#anyways this was supposed to be a quick write up. yet here I am three hours later. does this even read properly anymore. help.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

I'm probably going to do a terrible job of articulating myself here but every time I think about the worldbuilding in Hatoful Boyfriend, I think about the implications of having the birds simply have adopted the structure and policies of human society and go insane.

It's clearly originally just for the ridiculousness of it all for the players, but AGH it explains so much regarding the extremely rampant classism/racism/speciesism and how apparently normalized it is. It also, to me, adds a bit of moral nuance to the Dove - Hawk Party conflict.

(Long post under the cut. I'm so sorry I just kept going.)

First off, I'm obsessed with the concept of the birds becoming sapient and simply... taking over a society that was not structured for them. It leads to difficulties in universe! Bird wings are not made for doing tasks that human hands can do naturally - there's a couple instances where the characters ask for Hiyoko's assistance or express envy since she can just do the task more easily than they can. The birds are outright disadvantaged in certain areas of life, and yet, the society is in such turmoil due to the newness of it all that there still aren't really any workarounds for stuff like this.

Not that there haven't been any suggested solutions, such as the Labor 9 series, put forward initially by the Dove Party. Yeah, you know, that one throwaway line about how the party that up until this point have been the "good guys" wanted to take still semi-conscious human brains and make robotic slaves out of them Cyberman-style? What the hell. And what gets me is that Shuu was able to find the initial proposal, which he really only made tweaks to, which means that the project was at least close to being finished on the conceptual/planning/design phase before somebody went "hey this is a little fucked up actually".

The Dove Party wants peaceful coexistence with the humans, while the Hawk Party wants to eliminate humanity entirely. But we don't really go into how these two lines of thought evolved. I believe I have a suggestion for at least one part of the puzzle though.

Of all the birds in Hatoful, who enjoys the most privileges and the highest status? Fantails, it would seem. A breed of pigeon that is popular as a pet, considered beautiful and sought after, and achieve high accolades in shows and competitions - for clarity's sake, fantails were valuable in human society, and this status appears to have transferred when birds became sapient and took over. Conversely, which birds are ranked lower and often blocked from entering certain higher class places? Rock doves, who, in human society, are given an unfairly bad reputation, and considered anything from unclean and dirty, to nuisances, to pests. Again, this status transferred over when the birds took over.

So, while we don't know too many of the birds who make up the agents of the Dove and Hawk Party, let's take a look at who we do know of.

Fantails (Yuuya, Dove Party) are considered valuable over other doves and pigeons for being specially bred for their striking tail feathers

Cockatiels (Leone, Dove Party) are some of the most popular and beloved companion birds, kept as pets and considered very friendly

Rock doves (Ryuuji, Hawk Party) are considered unclean pests who receive a bad reputation, and are generally not treated with respect or appreciation <;- notable thing to mention here is that Ryuuji actually does like humans - I think he was only Hawk affiliated for the grant money and research facilities, which... fair enough man.

Chukar partridges (Shuu/Isa, Hawk Party) are game birds, specifically bred and released to be killed and eaten, and considered a delicacy

...do you... see what's going on here?

(I haven't mentioned Tohri as he's a special case. Give me a minute and I'll get to him!)

The birds we see in the Dove Party are those birds that were already viewed in a more favourable light by humans, a favourability that transferred over to their new society. Of course they are more likely to advocate for coexistence! They have less to lose, overall. And the Labor 9 series, and how that could've ever been suggested in the first place, suddenly makes a lot of sense. For many of these birds, society the way it exists now benefits them. Some of these high ranking Dove Party folks may be less about actual peace and justice (like Yuuya or Leone) and more about maintaining the current order of things - humans coexisting under their control, while they get to maintain their status... which is itself a product of human invention.

The birds we see in the Hawk Party, by contrast, are looked down on or hunted. Historically, even before bird sapience, they did not have a harmonious relation with humans - and it's likely this status carried over to their new society also, with many of these birds being more likely to have been disenfranchised. Their goal of elimination is therefore reactionary towards perceived threat. After all, the people who suffer when things go wrong aren't the ones at the top - it's all the people who sit at the bottom of the social rung; the vulnerable members of society who do not enjoy the same advantages as others.

Of course, the Hawk Party has built itself up into such a powerful group that they may have lost touch with this starting foundation - the only thing that remains is likely that reactionary fear. After all, people caught up in the actual conflict - Nageki, Hitori, Ryouta, and Hiyoko - see this kind of horrible bloodshed firsthand (firstwing?) and just want it to stop.

Again, it's not usually the people in these political factions who are the ones caught up in their conflict. It's the individuals who lack power or influence.

But that's just the political groups themselves. On an individual level, it's kind of interesting to look at and theorize where along the spectrum our core cast falls based on their species/breed.

Ryouta (rock dove) is actually rather indifferent towards humanity as a whole - he just likes Hiyoko. However, his witnessing of the Heartful House tragedy led him to abhor violence and unnecessary loss of life, and I'd imagine his mother's later illness solidified this. Ryouta doesn't seem overly interested in political struggles or the broader implications of a lot of things - he's actually a rather self-oriented character when it comes down to it (this is not a judgment, nor a bad thing! I love my boy!). Ryouta just doesn't want to lose people, really. A conflict would mean more loss, and rock doves seem to have to struggle enough as is.

Hiyoko (human) is the daughter of two diplomats, but interestingly, we don't get to see much of her political views on things - perhaps because even if she expressed them, it wouldn't really matter - she's not herself a diplomat, and humans are the lowest of the low - her going to a fancy school doesn't really change that. Social-wise, except with her friends, she is tolerated, not accepted. Yet, it's safe to say that Hiyoko strongly disapproves of people who flaunt their status - she's quick to not take crap from Sakuya, to get angry on behalf of Ryouta and herself over the gull clerk's assholery, and also to defend Miru and Kaku as living beings worthy of respect. Interestingly though, she also uses Okosan's status as a fantail to get Ryouta to let go of him and let him do whatever he wants so... it's kind of unclear what her firm beliefs are. Perhaps, as a human, she still values fantails more highly. I don't know honestly. Implicit bias?

Sakuya, Yuuya and Okosan (fantail pigeons) may share the same breed, but their experiences are highly different. Sakuya is largely separate from the human-bird conflict, as he is unlikely to be directly affected by it. As such, a lot of his story and development has to do with actually learning and un-learning about the world outside of the limitations of his "father's" classist views, which he simply mimics without understanding the larger implications. Yuuya and Okosan, on the other hand, may be fantails, but are also looked down on and often treated as inferior - Yuuya for being a "half-breed" and for his reputation, and Okosan for being closer to feral than a lot of other doves. Interestingly, these two show more interest and respect for the individual than Sakuya does, who often makes sweeping generalizations based on status - which makes sense to a degree, as they've been on the receiving end of this kind of treatment, whereas Sakuya hasn't. Okosan believes that each person has their own "wonderful names" (read: identity outside of breed or status), while Yuuya is a genuine fighter for justice who is able to get to the heart of people, especially in Holiday Star. However, even though they have experienced classism, they still have certain privileges with regards to species/race - take Okosan's shock when Hiyoko and Ryouta are barred entry from his favourite store. None of them are quite as out of place in everyday society as some of the other birds here, and it's notable that "diverse" St. Pigeonations still apparently has a significant fantail student population.

Shuu (chukar partridge) is really interesting, as he doesn't particularly care for the politics of the Hawk Party, and yet his role as a killer/hunter of both his fellow birds and humans is an interesting reversal of the chukar being a game bird. Shuu also has a disability (his semi-paralyzed right side) which hinders him in bird society even more than most. His extreme, yet coldly logical solution to kill all humans to stop the fighting between them, could be as much his rationality, as his joy in the sadistic, as a reactionary survivalism (remember he was caught up in a human terrorist attack as a child - while overall he considered this beneficial to him, he also did lose much of his colour vision and the use of his right side, so it did leave him weakened). Shuu attains control by "flipping the script" as it were.

Tohri (golden pheasant) starts out in the Hawk Party, but much like his colleagues, doesn't seem to care much for their politics. Golden pheasants are game birds whose eggs can be eaten, but are more often bred and kept for their plumage - they're not prey, but they're not exactly pets either. All this puts Tohri in this interesting position of being somewhat in the middle of this conflict, and indeed he goes on to be a part of (found?) the Crow Party - an opportunistic group that seeks to benefit from the overall conflict. Golden pheasants are birds intended to be admired for their beauty and intelligence more than anything else, benefitting in some ways from humans without a strong connection or a reliance, and Tohri's opportunism fits nicely with that. (As an aside, our sole crow character, Albert, is also something of an opportunist, being an assassin on the fringes of society.)

Hitori and Kazuaki (button quails) are somewhat interesting. It would be both expected and understandable if Hitori held hatred for humanity after the Heartful House incident, or even before then, considering they were all war orphans. Instead, he doesn't seem to harbour any particular ill-will - he seems totally fine around Hiyoko, and her being a human has nothing to do with his reticence with letting Nageki hang out with her in the shrine universe. Kazuaki, too, doesn't seem to mind Hiyoko being human and isn't afraid of her any more than he is anyone else. While quails are game birds, with both meat and eggs being eaten, button quails are too tiny for that and are mostly kept as pets - they are considered cute, silly, and entertaining, though a bit too jumpy to be outright companion birds. The quails don't seem to experience too much in the way of speciesism (except arguably with the whole mistaken identity of Kazuaki's corpse... there may be a bit of an "all quails look the same" thing going on perhaps). At the very least, they are able to occupy teaching positions at a renowned school as respected intellectuals, and did go to university. Still, it's kind of a known thing that you don't put button quails with bigger, more dominant birds, since larger birds will often pick on them or even outright try to kill them simply because they're small and shy - this may, in hindsight, explain some of Kazuaki's demeanour.

Nageki (mourning dove) and Anghel (luzon bleeding heart dove) are the two who are uncommon bird species in Japan. Nageki is another war orphan, who would be forgiven for harbouring resentment for humanity, but instead is appalled at the violence and made a huge sacrifice to get it to stop. It's kind of unclear how Nageki fits into this society, as mourning doves are not prey or pets - they're wild birds. They live on the outside of the human world, and while Nageki exists within current bird society, he likely doesn't have a designated status within it. Nageki is unfortunately also alienated from much of the action due to his illness and later his untimely death - this is why a lot of Nageki's thoughts are somewhat from an observer's perspective, with his most emotional moments being derived from his rare direct experiences - specifically the Heartful House tragedy and the human killings he was forced into, which solidified a really firm stance of not wanting anyone to suffer like that. Anghel is another outsider, this time genuinely a foreigner, as opposed to Nageki. Again, Luzons are wild birds, not prey or pets, and so it's a bit unclear what his status is. This might explain why Hiyoko repeats Sakuya's remarks towards him without apparently realizing they're actually insults - Anghel is removed enough from the conflict she is familiar with that it seems she doesn't quite... get it. Again, Anghel's role is as this strange kind of omniscient observer, whose perspective is closer to the player's than to the rest of the cast. He definitely frowns on the Hawk Party's overall goal - the Demon Spores are evil to him, and his main objective is to stop them from spreading, as they would cause damage to both birds and humans. I attribute his morals to his mother having raised him right lol. The lack of a clear status for both of them may be why they appear to take the stance of judgment based on individual actions, but are not heavily involved in the conflict itself - while humans tend to like mourning doves and luzons, there isn't much interaction that goes on between them. Nageki and Anghel are simply less embroiled in bird society's human-derived status conflict, which makes them both outsiders and observers.

As a bonus note, Azami, Rabu and Kenzaburou are all species of birds that can be kept as pets (java sparrow, budgie, parakeet), which may account for some of their friendliness towards Hiyoko, and Kenzaburou's willingness to hire her. Kenzaburou is even a bit old-fashioned it seems - he sleeps in a cage, which implies his ancestors were probably pet birds themselves. It's likely he, in particular, has more positive views on humans.

...Please tell me I'm not the only one who spent ages thinking about the implications and workings of a fictional post-apocalyptic bird society. Also I hope this made sense I kind of went off the rails here.

[jifloulette]

heads up . . ! not proofread.. 0.7k wrds!

you should be used to these midnight break-ins of shidou by now. he was your boyfriend after all and you didn't really tell him that he wasn't allowed to do it, you just gave him a reminder to text you if he were to do so. but him texting you meant giving you a heads up at least an hour before he was going to break in! though this attitude of your lover was something you were already familiar with..

now here he was, knocking on your bedroom window ever so quietly as to not wake up anyone else inside the house. you had just read the message he sent you three minutes ago and now he was already here, you knew he was fast in terms of running but to have walked that long from his place to yours in that small amount of time and without sweating seemed absolutely impossible??

"heyyyy baby!", shidou said in a low yet excited tone. he gives you a quick peck on the lip before going inside your bedroom. you looked obviously annoyed and he doesn't know why, he did give you a message before climbing up to the second floor of the house... "why'd you come here in such a short notice? you could've at least given me a bit of time to clean up and look good, you know!" you scold him to which he laughs and responds by giving you another quick peck on your forehead. "what were you doing here anyways? yer room's so messy..", he asks to which you just scoff and go back to your laptop, working on finishing this project of yours that was supposed to be due during christmas break, who even gives projects during christmas anyway??

it didn't even reach his usual three minute mark of bothering you before he pulled you out of your chair to a tight embrace on your bed, he seemed much more needy than last time but who you were to worry about that now? you were already working on something and here was your big baby of a boyfriend holding you in his arms as if it was a lifeline of his. "shidou! i'm literally working on the same project that i was doing when you barged here the last few times this week!", you remind him as you try to get off of him but really, your strength couldn't compare to his so it was useless. "okay okay, but do you reaaally need to be working on that now? ya could just do it the second i leave which would be in another hour or so!"

this was like a regular thing for him now, to give you a message five minutes before knocking on your window, then pulling you aside whatever you were working on after waiting at least three minutes, and then you'll just stay in his embrace the whole time he was there. that's how frequently these midnight break-ins occurred, you had memorized how long shidou took to send you a chat and to climb up to your bedroom. "how'd you even get here so quickly anyways.. it's at least a few kilometers from here to yours and you sent that message 3 minutes before already knocking at my window?" you ask, "well, i was already in front of your house when i sent it, just waited a bit before getting up here" he replied before giving you a kiss on your forehead. and before you knew it, you were already fast asleep on his chest, your project being long forgotten once again. even if shidou really wanted to hold you in his arms for as long as the night lasted, he was bound to be caught by your parents if he did. so once he knew that you were deep in your slumber, he laid you on your bed and put a blanket on top of you. but before he left, he needed to do one last thing.

when you woke up, you could've swore your bedroom did not look this.. clean? or unorganized? it looked like your boyfriend did a semi-good job of tidying it up, it still looked better than what it originally looked last night. you check your phone before seeing a message sent of 2:04 am — "heh.. cleaned ur room because im such a good boyfriend arent i??? make sure to gimme a kiss latr as a thank you gift ;)"

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Hi Bex! This is so exciting for me since this is my first time requesting something in the few years that I've been a follower! 😍TBABTO was a GAME-changer for me! So fucking good! 😭🫠 IDK how you are able to do it, honestly. As a slasher/horror fan, your blog is one of my all-time faves. On that note... For your Valentine's Day Ask Game I would like a snippet of Poly!Ghostface x AFAB! Reader. NSFW because let's be real, these freaks go 0 to 100 real quick 😘 The scenario: the boys are best friends with reader and she gets stood up by her boyfriend of two years on Valentine's Day for someone else! Reader is feeling humiliated and depressed...little does she know the boys aren't gunna take that sitting down (and are pretty grateful for the chance to show her just how much she means to them and to get rid of that tool she was dating) I trust you know what to do from there! No rush either! ❤️

Thanks for being awesome,

- T🌙

Okay, oh my God, T, hi! I love, adore, am obsessed with this ask and prompt! First off, thank you! TBABTO was really a huge deal, I still adore that fic and consider it one of my very best pieces of writing ever. The fact you have been around for years, and that fic is still getting love, warms my heart! I hope this meets your expectations and gives you exactly what you want. NFSW indeed, hope the gore is gory enough for you. I appreciate the patience, I took Sunday off and yesterday was the Canadian holiday of Family Day so I was busy, but I wrote this up at work today!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 1.8K. Poly!Ghostface X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Upset Reader. Crying Reader. Blood. Gore. Murder. Death. Obviously They Are Gonna Scoop You Up While You Are In The Process Of Grieving. 

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What Must We Do?

—

You feel like a complete idiot. Pouring hours into making and buying presents, into your appearance, Hell into the entire relationship for the love of fuck, for two years, and for what? A guy who is a totally pathetic coward.

Here is how it happened, you showed up to the agreed upon place, presents in tow, only to be left hanging for nearly an hour, a friend saw you waiting and told you that they saw your piece of shit, now obviously EX boyfriend, was on a very cozy and romantic looking date with someone else. He stood you up? Un-fucking-believable. 

What are you supposed to do with yourself now? The thought of renting a tape and dragging yourself home has appeal, get out of your nice date clothes, into something much more comfortable and concern yourself with snacks and losing yourself in the fictional events blaring from your TV screen until you are exhausted enough for sleep to claim you.

So you make your way, soon find yourself in the video rental store, trying to ignore anyone staring at you so dressed up. The romance section has been picked clean, not like you want that right now anyway, you beeline for the horror section which still has a surprising good few tapes left, you are debating on getting two or three when you hear a very familiar voice pipe up, “What are you doing dressed up like that in a dump like this?” 

Your head turns to see Stu Macher approaching you, a tape of his own in his left hand, he has that grin that is so classic him plastered on his face, you don’t answer him, but you do greet him, a heavy sigh, “Hey Stu.”

As soon as he was in front of you, he spots the bags by your feet. His smile falters, brow creases, and his original question is followed up with a different one, accompanied by a point to the items, “Wait. Aren’t you supposed to be on your Valentines date right now?”

Your head tips forward, shoulders slumping, “I was supposed to be yes.” 

The lack of explanation is all the explanation needed, he knew who was at fault, just didn’t have the information on what he did yet. You don’t need to see his face to know he is wearing a much harder expression, his voice further tells on how he must be looking, “What did he do?”

Raising your head you look sideways towards him and tell him, “Stood me up, took someone else out today instead of me, didn’t even have the balls to end it with me first.” 

“Oh so he is a cheating asshole now instead of just the garden verity kind, fantastic.” He leans against the shelves and asks, “Are you okay?” 

“Decidedly not. I just want to watch some movies, turn my brain off, you know?” 

“We can do that, pick what you want and meet me at the front.” Stu started digging into his pocket, and you ask, “Okay, but what do you mean by we?”

“Who do you think? I’m gonna go call him.” Stu had his phone in his hand now, he gives you a grin over his shoulder and starts walking away, typing in the number, and you think this is what you need, fuck being alone when you could be with your best friends instead. 

Billy picks up on the second ring, “Do you really need help deciding on what to watch? Thought you could handle that much on your own-” 

Stu cuts him off, “Shut up man, I’m calling for a different reason, you’ll never guess who I ran into at the video store, she just got stood up by her shithead boyfriend and is feeling lonely and vulnerable, AND she wants a movie night, do you understand?”

Billy had to bark out a laugh before responded, “Stop, really?! He fucked up THAT badly? God, she’s forgiven some shit, but no way is she gonna take him back after this.” 

“Exactly, she’s picking out some movies, meet at her place, it is up to us to cheer her up.” Stu unceremoniously hung up the phone now that Billy was on the same page and on board. 

After the movies had been rented, snacks bought, you went back to your place, finding Billy already waiting, comfortably seated on his usual chair on your front porch. He hopped up immediately on your approach, “Hey, Stu called me and I came over, he told me what happened, I’m sorry.” 

“I’m sorry too, honestly, sorry I wasted so much time on that fucking idiot.” You are pulling out your key, unlocking your door and letting you and them inside. There was much venting to be done, camp was going to be made in your bedroom for maximum comfort, bags hauled upstairs, the boys following behind and in agreement, Billy starting, “He is a fucking idiot, who the Hell would he rather be spending time with?”

Stu following with, “Seriously, dude screams brain-dead.” 

Once in your room, you drop your stuff and tell them, “Make yourselves at home, I am gonna pick out some more comfortable clothes and get changed.” 

You dig through your drawers and find what you were hoping for, leaving the boys behind on your bed, digging through bags and unpacking stuff. In your absence, the pair of them start talking quietly, “So how about that chucklefuck?”

“Jeeeeesus, right? We gotta do something about it.” Billy sighs and Stu responds, “I remember just where we stashed our stuff, wouldn’t be hard to get to it.”

A beat of silence before Billy asks, “So this is our chance, right? To get king clown is out of the picture.”

Stu looks over at his friend and confirms, “We gotta show some care with this, but I think so.”

By the time you were back in the room and the first movie was going, you felt a bit more comfortable, the extra amounts of blankets and pillows on the bed and floor making a really comfortable place to relax. You were doing your best to focus on the screen but it was hard, the sadness was creeping in, you felt rather pathetic, and so in a quieter moment you spoke up and asked, “Is there something wrong with me?”

That had Stu sitting up from his comfortably reclined position and Billy stopping the handful of popcorn that was midway to his mouth, “What?”

The course of that single word from the pair might have made you laugh if you weren’t seconds away from crying, “I know it’s fucking stupid, but I am just sitting here running over everything in my mind and all I can think is that it’s my fault, like the common denominator is me.”

“That is stupid.” Stu nods and Bill backs him up, “Very stupid, that you are doubting yourself for even a minute because of that jerk! You didn’t do shit, it is all him, he is an insecure bitch.”

Stu pipes up with, “He is the problem, and it isn’t YOUR loss, it’s his!”

You wipe under your eyes and sniff, “Whatever, you are both just saying that-”

Billy laughs and Stu says, “Yeah cuz in the entire time you have known us, we have been so sensitive to saving people’s feelings and lie about shit like that.”

“Mmhmm, that is us, alright. If it wasn’t true, we wouldn’t be saying it, we’d be honest, even if it was harsh and you? Are wayyyy out of his league.” Billy was leaning closer to you and Stu was getting up onto the bed, on the opposite side of you, he says, “You are funnier, smarter, seriously don’t cry over that piece of shit.”

Billy hands you a tissue, and you wipe your face, a sharp inhale, and you try to reign it in, trying to listen, joking, “You two ever think of becoming professional hype men?”

Stu snickers and Billy asks, “What do we have to do to get you to believe us?”

Strong hands rest on your shoulders, he starts to rub, and you immediately begin to melt into the touch, eyes falling closed as Stu speaks, “I think I know just what we should do, stop worrying about that asshole, something tells me he is gonna get what he deserves.”

Of course, you say yes to that. They stay with you, by the end of the three movies, the snacks all eaten, your mood is lifted, and you are asleep in bed. They turn off the TV and quietly let themselves out, both well aware of what needed to happen.

That night, they plan, excited and giddy to make this guys last night on Earth total Hell. He was going to die afraid and alone, in immense pain. 

The following night, they execute. 

They revel, do all they can to make it hurt, thankfully they had been planning this for a good long while.

Isolating him was frighteningly easy, and that is how they got into this current position, they had cut open his abdominal cavity and were making him hold his hands tight to hold his intestines in, a small cut to each Achilles tendon and an order to run. “If you make it far enough without spilling your guts or fully ripping your tendons, we might let you live.”

There was of course no intention of actually allowing him to survive, but watching him struggle was going to be fun.

The forest is cold, it’s dark as fuck, he has no sense of direction, the ground uneven and slick from the earlier rain on top of that. In their dark robes they can menuver around him easily, take swips and shallow stabs at him, disorienting him further.

He didn’t make it more than five minutes until he was on the ground, he started to slip, and one hand is thrown out to a tree to steady himself and the first few loops of intestines nearly shoot out, he can’t halt his forward momentum soon enough and well.

Have you ever stepped your full weight onto your own guts? He has, and it sends him careening to the ground, slick organs wrapped around his legs, his tendon tears audibly, right knee hitting a rock on the way down and the crunch and crack of bone is stomach turning.

He is collapsed, heaving and sobbing, the pair descend onto him, ready to finish the job. Stu steps on the blood and mud coated intestinal protrusion and your ex gags, another wave of pain making him cry out, he looks down at him and grins the heel of his boot down harder, “Fucking pathetic, am I right?”

“Beyond pathetic.” His masked compatriot agrees. 

There is a weak sound, a stupid as shit question, “Why?”

They share a look and a laugh, before an answer is given, “Cuz you don’t deserve to breathe, why else?”

The body can handle a lot before dying, they rip his blood soaked hands away and then tear from the inside out, once more of him was on the outside than in, a modicum of mercy is shown. His throat is slashed, and he is permitted to drown in his own blood. 

Your ex’s body is found in the woods a week later, and after a few more rains, when the news spread your two best friends simply tell you, one after the other, “Told you he’d get what was coming to him.”

“Yeah, clearly he just pissed off the wrong people.” 

You supposed he did.

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: none that i know

Writing in between messages!!

🪡Chapter Four: Leaf

Maki’s POV for these first 2!

Nobara sat against the park bench, staring at the lest message sent by Yuta. She looked up again to see Yuji waving his arm to the left, as Junpei stood behind a propped up camera. Although covered by the shade of the tree above her, the noon sun blaring onto her phone screen bothered her as she struggled to read what was displayed on it. Farther up she could see Megumi hiding in a group of bushes holding up a scarecrow, that had been DIY’d into a monster prop, and Todo who she guessed was supposed to be acting scared right now. It looked crazy to any on-lookers, but not like any of them really cared.

“Hey Yuji!” She called out, earning the boys head to whip back in reaction. “How much more is this gonna take? I need to be out of here before three.” Yuji looked back at her confused, “What? You said you were free all day?” Nobara simply shrugged in response, “I didn’t think it’d take this long,” granted, they had been there since 9 this morning but only because of Yuji’s indecisiveness on scenes.

“Can we just hurry up and get this over with?” With that Yuji turned back around to look at Megumi, who for the past thirty minutes had been shoved into plants while having to hold up the prop. Although Megumi played the main protagonist in Yuji and Junpei’s indie horror film, due to the limited amount of people they could find everyone had to double up on rolls. Just his luck that since he was the main role he didn’t have to do much than memorize his lines, but in the few scenes he wasn’t in, he had to do tedious tasks like this.

Nobara just sighed in defeat, regretting not taking Mai’s offer on going with her to the cafe across the street to grab a quick drink.

You walked next to Yuta down a concrete pathway, tracking Nobara’s location on your phone. “It says she’s-” you were cut off by a sudden force crashing into the side of your shoulder. You stumbled forward a bit hearing Yuta let out a gasp at your sudden push. You turned around to look at the aggressor only to find a familiar face.

“And what are you doing here?” asked none other than Ryomen Sukuna. Knowing him, this was probably his way of giving you a ‘polite hello’. “Walking, watch where you’re going next time,” you replied, only earning a huff of a laugh from him.

“Y/n! Yuta!” called Nobara, you looked to find her running up to you guys. “Hey Nobara!” greeted Yuta beside you. She turned towards you smiling, however it dropped once she saw Sukuna. “Ew.” In response, he only rolled his eyes. “Well let’s go guys, don’t wanna be around him any more than I need to.” She was about to start walking away, until yet another person called out, but this one with less enthusiasm. “Nobara, get your bag because I am not carrying this around.” You saw him walk up reaching out his arm with the purse you always saw your friend with. Yuta first to speak up greeted him with a ‘hi fushiguro’, followed by a ‘What’s up Megumi,” from Sukuna.

Once Nobara grabbed her purse, he looked passed her at the others, greeting a small ‘hey’ and immediately noticing you along the two. In response to his stare you gave him a small smile, “Hi, y/n l/n.” It took him a second but he managed out a second ‘hey’ except this one directed at you. “You’ve got something in your hair,” you pointed out.

Instinctively he tried to get it, yet missed. In a helpful manner you went to grab it, he was less than an arms reach away anyway, and took the small leaf out.

…

“Thanks.” “No problem.” “Okay, thanks Megumi, bye now.” Nobara said, turning to face you and Yuta once again. “Let’s go i’m hungry, have not eaten anything all day!” With that you three started walking off. “Bye Fushiguro nice seeing you!” Yuta added. You gave a simple wave back, watching Sukuna turn away, and Megumi reply with a small lift of his hand.

Author’s Note: more megumi very soon guys 🤗 also a little plot building ig, but I hope you enjoyed!

still having taglist problems trying to fix it the best I can but hope it’s working!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a

[seeingivy]

the sound of the applause

actor!eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: pain pre cursor.

an: songs mentioned - london boy by taylor swift, golden hour by jvke, girlfriend by avril lavigne. anyways. this chapter tame af. we are starting our demonic era. and no, you are not getting an eren pov until I say so. and I have covid so I am feeling extra evil and already writing the next one.

previous part linked here

--

You’re twelve years old the first time that you feel it. 

You have hippies to thank for the entire ordeal. In your small, small town in Canada, there’s very little tension or importance on the arts. Singing, dancing, acting - like many places around the world - fall short to the highs and lows that come with sports. 

Your middle school is no exception. A school that can barely spare money to fund a dying arts department, that begrudgingly offers one generalized art class that covers the basics of painting. Except when the hippy dippy parents in town petition, file a complaint with the mayor, they’re sequestered to include arts in all sectors that sports are included in. 

A law that opens doors insanely. And creates the opportunity that exposes you to it. The singer showcase at the football pep rally. 

And if you have to, you guess you have to thank food poisoning as well. Because Paulina, the original girl who was supposed to sing, was missing from first period that morning and you were all too quick to offer to take her spot. 

They give you that pitchy, old black microphone and let you sing your heart out to one of your favorite old songs, At Last by Etta James. And when you open your eyes, the recollection of the performance is wiped from your mind seconds after you finish, and there’s only one thing you remember. It rings so hard, the sound so loud in your eardrums that it’s all you feel. The rush of the blood, the eyes staring back at you, and your cheeks burning. 

When you think back, long and hard, that’s the first time it happens. The first time you feel it. It sits with you, that resounding pressure, that digs on you to give in. The need, the want, the infatuation with the rush you’re feeling. 

And the obsession with the sound of the applause.

--

“Y/N. Wake up.” 

You aggressively push your forehead into the plush of your pillow, creating a nice symphony of groaning songs in response to Danny, who is interrupting your beauty sleep. 

“How long has it been?” you murmur into the pillow, the stinging in your head and the fatigue sitting in your body telling you it couldn’t have even been an hour.

“An hour. But I just realized, the bridge didn’t come out right when I was mixing so you have to record it again.” 

“Can you come back in like three years? When I have the energy?” you groan. 

“Y/N. I’ll see you in five down there.” he definitively states, shuffling out of your room. 

Against every fiber of your being, you pull yourself out of the bed and drag yourself down to the studio, making it a point to glare at him as you re-record the bridge of the song you wrote yesterday. You give it a few tries, messing with the octaves and inflections, until you get a shining thumbs up, and wrap yourself into the blanket left on the couch. 

“You write anything new?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

You hold out your green book to Danny, opening it to the page marked, at which your producer is already wrinkling his nose. He hasn’t even read the lyrics yet, but you’re sure the title - Cry - is already setting him off. 

“You didn’t even read it yet.” you respond, frowning. 

“I don’t have to read it to know it’s brilliant. But you were there in that meeting last week and you know this isn’t what we can push out.” he responds, turning back to his soundboard, half-pulling his headphones back onto his ear. 

“Danny. I-I just haven’t been able to write songs like that lately. This is what’s coming out.” 

After nearly a year of writing music and touring, Danny and Sareen have leaned heavily into your Lover Girl branding. An affectionate term used by your fans, but now the entirety of the breadth that you work with. You’re widely known for the lovey dovey, sweet songs you write so when anything that falls outside of that mold, it isn’t stuff Danny and Sareen appreciate. 

But you haven’t been able to write any of that lately. Which only makes that resoundling, crackling, heavy pressure in your head worse. Like you’re defective.

He turns around in his swivel chair, taking the little bound book you’re holding out for him, as he starts flipping through the pages. The worn down book you were gifted on your birthday years ago is filled with every mess of lyrics you’ve written, though none of them are meeting the game plan that was set weeks ago. 

That announcement sent everyone on your team into a frenzy, which was so far from your initial reaction. 

First of all, it was a rumor. That you were one leg away from being a triple threat. Second, if it’s true, you’re ecstatic. Enthralled and honored and every feeling in between. That you were even in the consideration for being a triple threat, let alone a few feet away from it.  

No one else on your team saw it that way. Your producer, Danny, saw this as a sign that you need to be making more music and faster. The songs you make take you weeks to write at this point, no thanks to the perfectionism that comes with writing the lyrics and working out the sound. He’s set a goal for you - to write one song everyday. It makes it - that impending doom in your head - ten pounds heavier.

Your manager, Sareen, is no better. She only took this as a sign that you need to start being more vigilant. A hard-assed woman in her forties, Sareen is all about work ethic. That staying determined is the only way that you will get through this. And she’s extremely blunt when she tells you so. 

Stars don’t take breaks. If you want it that badly, you have to work harder. There’s six thousand things working against you, take it as a note that you need to be running faster. That you aren’t trying hard enough. Those are equivalent to dumbbells for that rock on your head, that you’re sure is responsible for pinching all your nerves. 

And it’s a matter of proving yourself. To Sareen, Danny, Eren, and everyone who watches you. 

You appreciate the push. It’s extremely draining, but worth it when your song releases are so anticipated that you’re selling millions of copies before the song comes out. Have sold out stadium tours, and are shortlisted for awards nearly every time you do something. 

You wake up. Get ready for the show. Memorize lines in between shows, film when you don’t have shows. Write songs on flights, produce through voice memos since you’re hardly in one place at a time. 

And when you think about it all, finally being a triple threat, finally getting to hear Eren say that he told you so like you said that first night on set together, it’ll all be worth it. It’ll be over. 

You can stop running. You can stroll, swim, make the music you like. So you oblige. This is part of the process, you just have to push through. There’s an end goal in sight. And being near Eren is a part of it. 

“Have you ever thought about writing a song about…Ricky James?” Danny asks, swinging around in his chair as he smiles at you. 

You wrinkle your nose as you throw the closest thing, an empty CD case, at Danny as he laughs back. 

“Ew, Danny. That’s so not a thing.” 

Ricky James, an infinite, insurmountable amount of talent, was your co-star on your last movie, Little Women. A British singer-songwriter, who virtually blew up over night. 

He was nice - definitely the charismatic, flirty type of co-star. You’re positive half of it is the accent. After the two of you started doing press for Little Women, everyone was swooning over the two of you together. At how you guys had a handshake, did your famous kiss scene in one take, and how in almost every interview, he made it a point to joke that he was in love with you. 

You get it. It works well for the press, gets people talking about the movie. But you could never like a guy like Ricky James. Or anyone who wasn’t Eren, for that matter. 

“I know it’s not a thing. You’re all goo goo ga ga over loverboy. But it’s the same thing that we did for Little Women. He used the fact that people like to speculate to his advantage. It wouldn’t hurt to do the same.” Danny responds, shrugging. 

“I already do use that to my advantage. It’s no secret that I earned my whole Lover Girl branding from writing love songs about Eren.” 

“Yeah, but you know how it’s been for Eren lately. Maybe it’s not the best thing that your name is attached to him anymore? For both of you?” Danny states. 

Eren’s had a rough go of it lately. After Satellite Port failed and the joke they made at the awards show last year, he’s all but resigned into what you call hiding. He said that he’s just busy, focusing on landing new roles and getting more credits under his belt. You know that he recently signed a deal with Scott Clarkson to film five movies with his studio, which is promising. 

But you know Eren too well. He’s retreating, hiding in all senses of the word. From you too. The texts he used to send you - good luck before every show, a good morning even though you were on different sides of the world - have ceased all together. And the few seconds you do catch him, he seems worlds away. 

And it’s not just you who has caught onto it. The last time you saw Historia, when she came to watch your show, she mentioned that she was concerned about him, that she thinks he’s being a little bit self destructive by working with Stone Studios. That Scott Clarkson is not a good idea. 

Granted, Scott Clarkson is buddy buddy with John. You know that’s a touchy subject for her and made it a point to bring it up to Eren. To see if he was okay. But you were flying out for a tour and forgot to. And then he started showing up in the press again, hanging out with the cast he’s been working with, so you figured it was fine. That he’s going out again, smiling in photos. 

“That-that’s not true. He’s on the come up - he’s going to be the lead in the Gatsby remake that Stone Studios is doing. I’m sure he’ll get an award for it.” 

“There’s no need to get defensive. I’m just saying it doesn’t hurt to expand your horizons. Triple threats are awarded for being versatile, not sticking with what’s easy. Maybe you just need to push the boundary of what you think you can do.” he says, giving your forehead a tap.  

“It kind of feels like cheating to write a song about someone that’s not him.” you murmur, looking down at the pages in your hand. Eren’s handwriting is scribbled onto the invisible string page. Hell was the journey but it brought me heaven. 

“You know, Sareen’s not too keen about this relationship. And I know that Eren’s team isn’t either.” Danny states. 

“Who are they to tell us who we can date?” 

“It’s not about who you can date. It-it’s about the image. Tying your name to his doesn’t exactly always work in your favor, Y/N. There’s no loyalty in an industry like this. And for Eren’s case, you’ve never really helped him in that sense. When you stand together, with the success you’ve had, all they see is a failure in Eren, when he’s really not even that bad.” 

“People’s comparisons aren’t my fault. And Eren’s doing fine, he-he’s okay.” 

“Now, he is. But a few months ago, it was your name next to his that was dragging him down. If it comes down to triple threats and it’s between you and him, are you telling me that you would really pick him over you?” 

Yes. One thousand times, yes. Though you know that’s not the answer Danny wants. 

“You have to be more selfish, Y/N. And maybe that’s selfless for Eren's sake too. There isn’t room for the both of you, right now. I know you love him, but Sareen has a point. Is working this hard worth it if you don’t get what you want out of it? You and Eren have all the time in the world to be together, just focus on your career before him.” 

You frown, staring at the wrinkles pressed up against his forehead. 

“You can have what you want - have your cake and eat it too, write all these corny love songs about him after you make it. Stop running when you’re actually there, kid.” 

You look down at the pages, the thoughts floating through your mind, as the lyrics start spilling out. For your first song that’s not about Eren. 

London Boy. 

--

You try to make a point to call Eren before releases. Key word, try. 

But it doesn’t happen that way. Because Eren’s in Los Angeles and you’re in Tokyo and the time difference messes the two of you up so bad that when they surprise drop London Boy, you don’t get to warn Eren beforehand. 

And when he texts you about it, you can feel the guilt creeping into your chest. Because you know he’s too nice to say what he actually thinks about it. If it were you, you’d wring Eren’s neck out for writing a song like this about his co-star he’s rumored to be dating. But Eren is Eren and he would never. 

eren: “he likes my american smile?” babe, you’re canadian. 

eren: i like the song. really. 

you: i have dual citizenship. 

you: eren. i’m so so sorry. i meant to tell you before but the time differences, we just kept missing each other. you know i don’t mean any of it, right? 

you: it’s just a marketing thing danny and sareen planned. the song will be a hit if people are speculating who it’s about and stuff. 

eren: i figured. you don’t have to explain yourself to me!!!! 

eren: you’re a pop princess <3

eren: and currently number one on the billboard hot 100 for the fourth time in a row!!! 

You nearly throw your phone across the room at the notifications, the frustration building so hard that it’s all pouring out of your head. You can see the stack of gifts at the front of the room - candies from Falco and Colt, as well as Marco, Historia, and Reiner - for the release.

And it’s moments like this, when you’ve been running so fast and pushing so hard, that you resort to one of your worst tendencies. Because the only thing that helps you when you feel like this is being a masochist. Feeling bad only makes you want to feel worse. Like you deserve it. 

So you inflict it on yourself. By reading what people say about you online. 

You reach back for your phone - ignoring the messages from Armin, Bertholdt, and Levi - as you scroll to Twitter, hiding the light of the phone under your sheets as you look through the app. 

You look at the trending tab. Y/N L/N, London Boy, Ricky James, Eren Jaeger, and love is dead are trending. 

You press your bolded name and swipe to the recents tab, scrolling through every tweet, each one categorizing, sticking in your mind as you scroll. A mix of the good, the bad, and the ugly. 

That you’re pretty. That you’re ugly. That you have no personality, that you write mediocre songs, that you’re the best actress from Attack on Titan. That you’re lucky for bagging Ricky James and Eren, that you’re too good for Eren, that you’re horrible for writing the song. 

You place the phone flat on the sheets, the absence of light making your eyes sting, as the tears string out of your eyes. 

You want to make your cake and eat it too. 

But is it even worth it if this is how you have to get there? 

--

You stick your hand out, swinging it in the air with Ricky as you do your handshake, and plop onto the couch. Danny and Sareen called a meeting with Ricky’s team before you guys went to the wrap party for The Proposal, which is the only thing on your calendar that you were actually looking forward to this month. 

Because Annie and Armin are the leads and because you know Levi and Hange are going to be there. 

“This is Michael and Nancy. They’re my talent managers.” Ricky states, pointing out the two people across from you. 

“Sareen and Danny. Sareen’s my manager and Danny’s my producer.” 

“Is he behind the genius of London Boy?” Ricky asks, smirking at you. 

“Shut up. London Boy isn’t about you, Ricky.” 

“Oh, shut up. I know I’m your muse.” 

The line sits in your stomach wrong, because all you can think about is Eren. Seventeen year old Eren, shimmering green eyes on that empty set when you wrote New Year’s Day. You shake your head as Danny turns to the two of you, a smile on his face. 

“We have an idea.” Danny states, a smile on his face. 

You and Ricky nod as Nancy and Sareen start laying out the plan, each consecutive word twisting horribly in your stomach. 

Surely they can’t be serious. 

“We think that the two of you should date, as a PR move.” Sareen states, handing over a folder to you. 

There’s dates listed out, public places where they want you and Ricky to meet at, and songs they want you to release about each other. All down to the slated releases, ideas for album covers, and interviews they want you to do. 

“This is part of Y/N’s triple threat campaign. I think putting in this whole ruse of a relationship and writing songs about it, especially if there’s some part of it that will be drama because of Eren and Lana, it’s even better.” 

“Lana?” you ask. 

“She’s Ricky’s old girlfriend. They aren’t dating anymore, which is something that we should capitalize on. For the both of you. This should get Ricky into the leagues for the Album of the Year award when he releases next year.” Nancy states, flipping through the pages. 

You look over at Ricky, ready to fully shut down the idea. But when you turn your head to him, he’s flipping through the pages, writing down his own ideas in the folder. 

“Ricky. You’re not actually considering this, are you?” you whisper. 

“You aren’t?” 

“I’m dating Eren. No, I’m not considering fake dating you for the press.” 

“Eren, who was seen on a date with Myka yesterday? Right.” he states bluntly, flipping through the pages. 

“That’s just tabloids, Ricky. Be serious.” 

“And so is this. Myka and Eren are in a movie together. You and I are musicians. You can do the same thing as him and I bet you he wouldn’t even care. And he shouldn’t, because your career comes first.” Ricky states, leaning forward on his knees to discuss more with Danny and Sareen. 

You flip through the folder again, each consecutive page filled with more and more details of how they want you and Ricky to pretend. And the last page has the words bolded, little stars around them. 

Y/N gets triple threat status! Ricky gets Album of the Year! 

“Y/N. Have your cake and eat it too.” Danny warns, a reminder of what you’re supposed to be prioritizing. 

“This is the time to run, Y/N. You’re almost there.” Sareen affirms, the two of them nodding as they look at you. 

And by the way five of them are staring at you, big eyes filled with anticipation as they wait for your response, you know you can’t say no. That insurmountable pressure - to please, to be successful, to be the best - wins out, every time.

Danny’s produced for three different hit pop stars. Sareen’s managed some of the biggest names in the industry. And you have no idea who Nancy and Michael even are, but if they’re working with Ricky, they’ve got to be in the big leagues. 

You put the folder down, giving all of them a nod, as they all erupt into cheers. Ricky leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek, which you tell him to save for the cameras, as you take the folder and walk out. 

And figure out how you’re going to tell Eren. 

--

You head to the wrap party three hours later and any excitement you had about the event is immediately drained when you know that Eren’s going to be there and you have to talk to him about it. Break up with him. 

“Y/N!” 

You turn around to find Armin and Annie, the two of them wrapping their arms around you as they press kisses to your cheeks. You try to stifle the literal tears that are making their way to your eyes at the sight of them, their blue eyes the same soft ones you’ve always known. 

“Annie. Armin. I’m so excited for the movie, I’m sure it’s going to be great.” you say, squeezing both of their hands. 

Two of your shyest friends still, they’re both blushing at the praise as Connie and Sasha walk up. You’re wrapping your arms around all of them, as everyone else - Reiner, Mikasa, and Jean - join you. 

“So Y/N. London Boy, huh?” Connie asks, smirking. 

“Did you guys know that Eren is from London?” Sasha says, sarcastically. 

“Oh, quit it. It’s just one of those PR things. The triple threat thing made them all go crazy.” you respond. 

“We respect the hustle, Y/N.” Connie states, mock saluting you with Jean. 

“There is no press better than you and Eren releasing Medicine and Dress on the same day.” Mikasa states, earning a bunch of laughter from the group. 

“Oh god. Don’t remind me. Whore move, from the both of you.” Reiner says, pinching your cheek. Connie mocks the ah ah ah, from Dress, which has you all laughing.

You smack his hand off as Marco slings his hand around your shoulders, squeezing hard and smiling at you so big, in earnest, that it makes your chest hurt. 

“Can you believe it? You’re so close to it, Y/N - I can feel it.” Marco says, leaning forward to press a kiss onto your cheek. 

You reach up to squish the plush of his cheek as Marco mimics your movements, the two of you smiling at each other. And then you feel two warm hands on your shoulder and turn around to see Eren, soft green eyes looking into yours. 

And it makes you burst into tears. Soft green eyes, albeit a little tired looking, and Eren’s hair all grown out. When did Eren grow his hair out to his Season Three length? The last time you saw him, it was so short. He looks the same. He feels far away. And that pressure in your head is resounding. 

“Yeesh.” Connie says at the sight of your spilling tears, earning quiet laughs from everyone. 

Eren brings his hand up to your cheek, swiping the wetness away, as he glares at Connie. 

“Connie.” Eren warns, the tone in his voice threatening. 

“Sorry. Just missed him, that’s all.” you respond, wiping the last of the wetness off your face as they all smile at you. 

“Man, every time I see one of you, you’re crying.” Hange says from behind you, the group of you turning your heads and immediately tackling them and Levi into hugs. Eren reaches for Hange first and you go for Levi, his stupid minty smell making your tears return. 

You look up at Levi, who's glaring at you, and can’t help but smile. 

“Levi. You could at least pretend you’re happy to see me.” 

“I am happy to see you. But not when you’re crying in public. You two are going to give me an ulcer.” he states, frowning as he glares at Eren at your side. 

You look over at Eren, the end of what Hange said catching up with you. 

“You cried in front of them? About what, Eren?” you ask, voice soft. 

“Ah. Nothing.” Eren responds, cheeks lightly pink as he runs his hand through his hair. 

You both let go of Hange and Levi as Armin and Annie take to the makeshift stage, giving a little speech about their time on the film and how grateful they are for everyone in the room for supporting them. And as they do, Eren jabs his elbow into your side. 

“Ow. What gives?” you whisper. 

Eren places hand on his chest, feigning shock. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot our secret hand signals already?” he whispers. 

Jab in the side. Meaning, you need a second to talk, away from everyone. 

“As if.” you respond, giving a nod to his sign. 

He gives you a smile as you both turn your heads back to Annie and Armin, who are playing the trailer on the screen now. And when they finish, the resounding noise of the claps are the last thing you and Eren hear when you go out to the balcony, the cold air surrounding you both. 

You wrap your hands around your arms, which Eren picks up on too fast and suddenly he’s taking his coat off and wrapping it around you. Making a point to pull your hair out of the collar, hands focused on fixing your hair around your face. 

“Eren.” 

“Yes?” 

“I-” 

The words die on your tongue. Because here he is, the perfect green eyes you fell in love with staring at you in the lamplight of the dark, and you can’t say it. You can’t shatter his heart into pieces or be the one to let him go. 

When he’s one of the only things you’ve wanted.

“I know how you feel, Y/N. You don’t have to say it.” he whispers, hands tucking your hair behind your ears before letting go. 

You can feel the tears spilling out of your eyes as you frown at him, the look on his face so pained that it hurts. 

“I’m guessing they don’t want you to see me, at least not for right now?” Eren asks. 

You nod, aggressively wiping away the wetness on your cheeks as you reach for his hands, squeezing three times. You hate that he knows. That Danny and Sareen think he isn’t good enough for you. When you’ve always been the one who was never in the same league as him. 

That Eren was the one who defended you when you were there, but no one’s letting you do it for him. 

“I still love you, Eren. You-you know that?” 

“I know that.” he whispers, nodding. His eyes are focused on your hands, interlocked with his. He reaches in for your bicep, fingers tracing over the fish tattoo right above your elbow. 

“Fishbowl, Y/N. We’ll come back to each other when it’s time. Just don’t be a stranger.” he says. 

You nod, reaching forward and wrapping your arms around him as you nearly sob into his chest, his voice soothing your hiccuping, even though you’re the one who just smashed him into pieces. And when Eren wraps his hands around your cheeks, giving you one last lingering kiss, before walking away, you can’t help but sit there in the cold, his jacket wrapped around you and letting the tears bite on your skin. 

--

You close your phone, giving Ricky a glowing smile, as you both settle into your seats at the Institute Music Awards. The two of you officially went public earlier today, though you’re both still denying any rumors that you’re dating. 

“How does Ricky compare to Eren?” 

You try to hide your scoff as you answer, trying your best to stay neutral in your response to avoid becoming a headline the next day. 

“I’ll always have so much love for Eren. We grew up together and really came into this hand in hand and no one could ever really take that away. And there’s no bad blood between us, we’ll always be best friends.” you respond, giving them a polite smile as you walk away and swallow hard. 

You can see Eren twenty feet down, in a specially designed suit that he looks wonderful in, smiling for the cameras. He’s standing in between Hyla and Myka, since their film is premiering in a few days. 

“You look green, doll.” 

You turn around to find Sukuna, who you fake punch in the shoulder and glare at, before pulling him in for a hug. 

“You sure you’re not talking about yourself? That’s your girl down there.” 

“Jesus, Y/N. Don’t ever associate me with her again.” Sukuna mutters, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh? Was it not you saying she wasn’t that bad when we were kids?” you tease, poking into the soft of his cheek. 

“Well, that was before I found everything out. I’d say a prayer for your boy over there, he’s about to get himself into a gnarly mess he won’t be able to get out of.” Sukuna responds, eyes focused on Eren and Hyla posing together a few feet down. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, linking your arm with his as the two of you walk down, past him. You make it a point to attempt to make eye contact with Eren, but he’s too focused on Hyla that he misses you all together. 

“I just mean…he’s about to get himself involved in things he shouldn’t. And you should stay far away.” Sukuna states, giving Ricky a polite smile as he joins you at your side. Sukuna gives you one last kiss on the cheek before Ricky links his arm with yours, dragging you to your seats. 

You both settle into the seats, giving Marco a big smile as he sits next to you. 

“Hey. Where’s Hisu? I saw her name card here earlier but it’s not here anymore.” you whisper, as the lights start dimming ahead. 

Marco winces, giving you an awkward smile as he puts his hand over yours and squeezes. 

“She doesn’t want to sit with Ricky. Or you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Just for today, Y/N. Because of the history and all that, you-you know that.” 

You shake your head, ignoring the stinging, as you give Marco a half-hearted smile, nodding. 

“No yeah. I get it. I’ll talk to her soon.” 

“Okay.” Marco responds, giving you a smile. 

You make it a point to do your best throughout the awards show, fake whispering in Ricky’s ears every time the camera is on you two, holding hands and comparing hand sizes, letting him tuck your hair behind your ear once and a while. 

And it’s all going great and peachy, until Hyla gets called on stage to perform. You crane your neck back to find Sukuna, giving him a warning glance as he rolls his eyes, making the motion that he’s choking himself. 

One of the most insane things about Hyla and Sukuna’s beef? The fact that they perform and write songs about each other, that are so insanely written, that they trend for weeks. 

You’re sure Hyla and Sukuna are what Danny and Sareen dream about in their free time. 

Hyla gets on stage, giving everyone a soft smile as a few of the girls join her on stage, adjusting their microphones. You can feel Ricky squeezing your hand hard, his jaw clenched. 

“You good?” 

“The lineup. Hyla, Myka, and Lana.” he responds, glaring at the three of them. 

You focus your eyes on the third girl, Lana, who is Ricky’s ex-girlfriend. The only reason he wants to fake date you. Apparently, the two of them broke up after you and Ricky started trending, her insecurities about the people’s words overruling any reassurance that Ricky could give her. 

“This is my new song, it’s called Girlfriend. I hope you all like it.” Hyla says, giving a smile as the upbeat music starts. 

Hey, hey, you, you  I don’t like your girlfriend  No way, no way I think you need a new one Hey, hey, you, you I could be your girlfriend

You lean back as you observe the visuals and the line of backup dancers supporting the three of them singing, their performance extremely upbeat and punk pop star that you can’t help but tap your feet to the beat of the song. 

That’s until they reach the bridge. When Hyla pulls one of the back-up dancers from the background to the front and Lana pulls Eren on stage, the two of them are seated on the makeshift chairs on the stage. Hyla’s singing around Eren, rolling her eyes at the back-up dancer. 

Who's wearing the exact outfit that you wear on your tour, a sparkly, billowing pink dress. And when you take her in properly, you realize that she’s supposed to be you. The same hairstyle, eye color, skin tone. You can feel your throat dry as you watch Eren’s cheeks tinted pink on stage as Hyla sings around him, the entire audience erupting into cheers. 

(Oh) In a second, you'll be wrapped around my finger  'Cause I can, 'cause I can do it better There's no other, so when's it gonna sink in? She's so stupid, what the hell were you thinkin'?

You feel Marco’s hand on yours, squeezing hard, as you focus in on the performance, trying to ignore the fact that the big, black camera is shining on your face and that everyone in the room is looking at you. And that millions of people must be talking about it at home. You turn back to give Levi a look and he shakes his head, mouthing don’t cry which you halfheartedly nod in response too. 

Jean and Armin have switched seats with the two girls behind you, their hands on your shoulders, squeezing, as Eren and Hyla walk off stage, hand in hand past the back up dancer who’s supposed to be you - who's crying fake buckets of tears now. 

And when it’s all done and over, you skip the afterparties and let Mikasa drive you home. She tucks you into your sheets, making it a point to help you wipe all your makeup off and leave a bottle of water by your bed, you sink into your sheets and do it again. Let that overwhelming, embarrassing, deep rooted hatred sink in. 

And pull up Twitter. Read about how everyone hates you. Relive the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you yet. Stare at pictures of Eren and Hyla and ignore the resounding sound of the applause the two of them received.

--

next part linked here

taglist:

@k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06  @bsenpai  @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasberr @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo

pls comment on this post or any of the chapters if you want to be added to the taglist <3

[iamamythologicalcreature]

Six Sentence Sunday/Creative Proof of Life

Thanks for the tags, @alexalexinii, @shrekgogurt, and @that-disabled-princess!

This WIP post is basically a proof of life statement. I can't believe it's been over a month since I posted Chapter 1 of the Haunting of Simon Snow. I'm so overdue for chapter 2, BUT... instead I finished writing the rough draft. I've been attempting to outline, because when I rough a draft, I really rough it up. Ahem.

So I have been working on it, even if there is zero evidence on AO3 as of yet.

How about some sentences? I haven't sliced up chapters yet, so not sure if this is from chapter two or three, but here's a snippet of Simon on the phone with Penny expressing some smooshy sentiments:

I curl up on the couch a bit more, maneuvering myself so my wings aren’t crushed. “I went flying last night,” I confess then, in quiet tones. Like someone might hear me. “You— Oh, but… You can’t! What if someone sees you?” I can actually hear her biting her lip. She wants to spell my problems away, and she can’t. “But I can,” I say, smiling a bit more. “There’s no one around for acres. No one will even willingly drive here on account of the house being haunted. It’s empty. And I’m flying at night.” I say flying in the present tense and realize I fully intend to fly again tonight.

Penny huffs. Her specialty. “I don’t like it.” “I do,” I say easily, warming up to explaining, hoping she’ll understand. “It’s so freeing, Pen. Like the weight of the world can’t hold me down, anymore. I feel… It’s like… It’s like I’m closer to the stars. Like I’m close to stirring up the milky way.” I let out a sigh, my eyes closing as I drop my head back, indulging in that recent memory. “I don’t hate it as much, when I’m up there. You know?” There’s a few seconds of silence, and I open my eyes again. “Pen?” “Hate what?” she asks quietly.

(just in case you were worried I wouldn't be including angst...)

Bit more info on my progress (maybe some whinging) and tags and hellos below the cut!

Fun facts about my ineffecient writing process:

I spent more than one or two hours clearing asterisks from my rough draft this morning. (Because discord has trained me to do *this* when I write instead of this.) Because I'm trying to listen to my draft via screen readers, but it keeps sounding like "asterisk-impossible-star-fuck me" (that's my favorite one honestly, it's supposed to read "Impossible. Fuck me.") which is really annoying (more often than amusing). ANYWAY… what this has revealed to me is that I use "Fuck" a lot, as well as "So good." Ahem. Take from that what you will.

BTW, I'm sure there's an easier way to do that than manually. Please don't tell me for at least a few days, or I might lose it. I am but a mortal being, with a tattered heart and patience worn thin. (Or something.)

OKAY. It's been awhile since I did one of these posts. Time really flies. Gonna give this list my best shot, but as always, open to any who want to participate! (Also adding some new names in for the new year so this is sort of my "Gee I hope this is cool with you" super long tag list. If you'd rather not be tagged, just drop me a missive to that effect!)

@leithillustration @prettygoododds @rimeswithpurple @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @hushed-chorus @nightimedreamersworld @best--dress @whatevertheweather @ileadacharmedlife @scribble-tier @imagineacoolusername @brilla-brilla-estrellita @alleycat0306 @angelsfalling16 @fatalfangirl @erzbethluna @tender-ministrations @anxious-m3ss @ebbpettier @bubble-gumhead @facewithoutheart @bazzybelle @theimpossibledemon @aristocratic-otter @mooncello @cutestkilla @annabellelux @ic3-que3n @j-nipper-95 @letraspal @messofthejess @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @supercutedinosaurs @theearlgreymage @thewholelemon @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @martsonmars @orange-peony @mostlymaudlin @stardustasincocaine @confused-bi-queer

Lastly, quick note/question. Tumblr seems to be remiss in informing me when I've been tagged in other posts. Is this a common issue?

[sorcharavenlock]

31. Big Ass Avenger.

The Winchesters settle in nicely with Kitty, who keeps me regularly updated. There is plenty to do for them, they certainly don't get the chance to be bored!

I continue with my writing, and Loki keeps himself busy with his hobbies: playing guitar, checking his social media, reading and taking Fenrir for walks.

Then I get a DM from Nea. Her friend 'Webhead' has contacted her, and wants to meet up! He warns her he's bringing a friend who can help.

"He's running late," I say to Nea.

"Who do you think the friend is?" Kitty asks.

"let me send him another DM, see what's taking so long," Nea whips out her phone.

"Maybe it's Thor himself, wouldn't that be exciting?" Kitty smiled.

"Oh yes, I'm practically beside myself, how will I ever contain my joy?" Loki replies sarcastically.

"Be nice," I murmur at him.

"My apologies. Either it is no one important and we're back to square one, or it is truly one of the Avengers, neither of whom I'm eager to get reacquainted with," Loki explains to Kitty.

None of us notices the young man who walks into the coffee shop.

He stands still and looks around, obviously looking for someone.

"Hey Nea, could that be your friend?" I ask.

"Peter?" Nea waves him over and he sits down with us.

"Hi! Yeah, so I'm 'Webhead', but my real name is Peter. Peter Parker. And you must be Nea, Kitty, Marianna... and... and Loki's ghost. Sure. Because life isn't already weird enough." Peter introduces himself.

"It's a temporary situation!" Loki is quick to point out.

"We are trying to help Loki get in touch with his brother, Thor," I explain. "We had hoped you might be able to help with that since you've been able to get up close with the Avengers a few times."

"Up close? Yeah, you could say that," Peter mutters.

"I don't know Thor very well. I met him once or twice, but I'm not exactly on his BFF list. I'm friends with someone who is though.

He'll be here soon, he's just parking the jeep. He wanted to see for himself whether this was for real or a prank. But seeing Loki is actually here, if not a bit see-through, I'm sure he'll help you."

Before the waitress can take our order, the door opens again.

"Oh, I should have probably warned you!" Peter realises. "I can assure you, he's nicer then he looks!"

Half of our group jumps out of their seat.

"WTF! Is that the Incredible Hulk!" Nea blurts out in surprise.

"It's alright, I know Bruce. He won't harm you." Loki reassured Kitty.

We all sit down again.

"WTF? WTF WTF WTF?" Nea thinks as Bruce sits down next to her.

"Do'nt worry, I've got the Big guy under control," Bruce reassures us. "I won't start smashing up the place."

"Loki," Bruce greets Loki wearily. "How are you these days?"

"I have been better," Loki admits.

"I can see that," Bruce agrees.

"So you are trying to contact Thor. I suppose I do'nt have to ask why. Thor left with Peter Quill and some of the others after the whole Thanos thing.

I have a way to contact them, but only in emergencies. I wanted to see what was going on with my own eyes first, it was hard to believe three random ladies would know anything about Loki. Especially since I last heard you were dead."

"this time, I am," Loki admits. "For now anyway.

I have spoken to our mother's spirit and she believes I can be restored to life. She also believes it is important I contact Thor.

Can you help us with that?"

"Yeah okay, this seems emergency enough. But it might take a while, he's not exactly nearby right now."

"How do you know the Hulk?" Nea asks Peter. "And how do you get all these amazing pictures?"

"Let's say I am in a unique position to take them," Peter winks. "it's as easy as taking selfies."

"Wait.... what???????" Nea nearly chokes on her coffee. Slowly the penny drops. "Hey, that's cheating, I'm sure of it!"

"You think you might be able to return to life? How?" Bruce asks curiously.

"I'm not sure yet," loki admits. "We're still trying to work that part out. Right now, I'm open to any suggestions."

Bruce hesitates for a moment.

"I own a beach house in Sulani, it's nice and quiet there. Local legend speaks of healing waters that are rumoured to cure anything, possibly even death."

"It's a good a lead as any," Loki shrugs.

"I'm not promising anything, I haven't been able to find it. But come to Sulani, and we'll look for it together!"

"Yay!" Peter and Kitty cheer at the same time. "beach holiday!"

[waitmyturtles]

This is VERY UNLIKE ME, but here's some incredibly fast, EXTREMELY late-night meta on two dramas (Dangerous Romance and I Feel You Linger in the Air) from this TIRED mama, all before Only Friends later today!

(Y'all. I've missed being around this week! Moving and unpacking... I'll tell ya. It gets harder as I get older. Mostly because I/we have more stuff, and the BRAINS I need to figure out where this stuff should go is like, as mentally draining as it is physically draining to open boxes, unpack 'em, go up and down stairs -- damn. I have been COLLAPSING at night. Friends have been sending me meta to read -- @ranchthoughts, I see you, boo! <3 <3 The little peeks and breaks I've been getting have been giving me energy. I'm a little back on my bullshit now, and I can't wait to give Only Friends the full treatment tomorrow. But for now, quick notes!)

1) Dangerous Romance, episode 4: Listen, the friends covered a lot (here, here, and here -- @neuroticbookworm, @lurkingshan, @wen-kexing-apologist, all clowning correctly). WKA also notes that this show was written by Pratchaya Thavornthummarut and Bee Pongsate, two of the three writers of some of the best BLs ever -- Bad Buddy, My School President, Dark Blue Kiss, etc. When Bee and Pratchaya write WITHOUT Au Kornprom, as they did in BBS, MSP, and DBK -- things go a touch awry (cc @chickenstrangers, as we've talked about this before). Bee and Pratchaya, for instance, wrote Vice Versa, which I haven't watched, but I know the fam is mid on. (Remember when Aof Noppharnach had to come in to save 2gether by making Still 2gether? 2gether was written by Bee and Pratchaya -- Aof and Au joined in on the Still 2gether correction.)

ANYWAY, ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY that I should have been smarter about this show when I started in on it. It's directed in part by Lit Phadung, formerly of SOTUS, which is a fine show by nostalgia's standards! But like, not the height of drahmah.

So there's a lot of mid kinda swirling around here, and god, honestly, I'm kicking myself, because I should have been more sus. I should have been more sus!

Perth and Chimon are too good for this show. Not that I hate it! I don't hate the show, per se. It's just -- the first episode was so intense, so very issues-based, as all the dear friends noted, that to swerve towards a SUCH a gloopy romance plot was just... man, even SOTUS was WAY more clear in its plot than DR. (Dudes, I was chatting with @neuroticbookworm while I was watching this, and I was like, LOVE SICK HAD A MORE CONVINCING ROMANCE PACE THAN THIS. LOVE SICK!!!) DR is moving WAY too quickly towards the cheesiest of tropes, without the beef to back it up.

Anyway, from the energy vibes that Perth and Chimon are giving off, they should either 1) be making out by now, and/or 2) doing it by now, because like, WHOA, lots of staring, boys! LOTS of staring. And lemme tell ya, someone's staring at me like that, like in the clurb or something, and I'm like, yep, make-out time, right?! RIGHT?!

I am now officially watching this show, as I noted to @neuroticbookworm, literally to watch all the dear GMMTV celebs in here try to avoid a dumpster fire. (Where the hell is June?!) (At least Marc and Pawin are funny for like, the 10 seconds we see them.)

OH, ALSO?! What's the difference in Sailom becoming a sex worker vs. being bought out as a live-in tutor? Were we supposed to judge Sailom becoming an escort? Are we intentionally ignoring bias in socioeconomic gaps, writers? TOO MUCH TO ASK, TEAM! Too. much. to. ask.

I luv you, Perth and Chimon, I LUV YOU, BUT WHY. ANYWAY. MOVING ON.

2) I haven't written anything about I Feel You Linger in the Air yet because of LIFE (see above), and I was very wibbly about it when I started it, because you, your mother, MY mother, and MY MOTHER'S MOTHER all know about how sus I am on Tee Bundit (but I finally watched Lovely Writer and LOVED IT, so I am a touch less sus).

ANYWAY, thanks to the convincing of @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm to look past the slow pace of the first episode as accurate for a historical drama, I kept at it with IFYLITA. And I'm glad I did.

Now this? THIS IS A BL, BABY!

We got sexy typewriter scenes! Drawings of cutie widdle pigwets! Drunk falls! Red cheeks! Reading out loud! POETRY! FLOWERS! ENEMIES AND INTRIGUE! (I'm not happy about the marital rape, but unfortunately, I am thinking that is accurate for the time being portrayed.)

Admittedly -- god, Tee, the episodes are still a little long, my homey. A little long. BUT.

This show, as so many have noted, is just beyond gorgeous. The plumerias. I LOVE Ming and Maey. I LOVE THAT WE MAY HAVE A SAPPHIC SUB-PLOT.

But I also appreciate that only four episodes in, we haven't forgotten that this is a time travel show, in the midst of the budding romance. My thinking on that out-of-body experience on Jom's part was Jom flirting with consciousness after the present-day car crash. But who knows.

I like that Jom is making the connections with those drawings he found in that chest -- and that, lol, he was asking Prik questions about the architecture. Even though Yai's dad seems like a bad dude, I have faith that Tee Bundit is going to keep Nu Surasak going as a good BL dad/dude -- fingers crossed.

I am just -- I am loving where this show is going to go. The house is worried about Yai. I like the way the scent about Yai's preferences is a lot more muted in 1920s Thailand than it would be as set in the present-day. I just think that's totally accurate for what I would call an "old-fashioned" Asian perspective now. I'm very intrigued to see how a historical drama like this will wrestle with homophobia, as this is my first period BL, and -- I'm just excited to see where it'll go.

The acting is GREAT, the pace of the romance is GREAT, the pace of the filming is still slow, but I can't believe I'm saying this -- I'll continue to forgive it for now. Tee, please, PLEASE don't fail us, because you have something GREAT going on here. Yai, head over HEEEELLLLSSS for Jom, is just -- it's a wonder to see, and I am fully on this roller coaster palanquin ride.

(Also, hey, TWO DRAMAS where dudes were PAID to live with their crushes. K!)

(Oh, also, definitely, next time I'm at a clurb, in like, 20 years, I am definitely ordering an URN of liquor with a ladle. Like a baijiu urn. Fuck yeah. What a LOOK.)

(Okay, that's it, good night, see you for Only Friends!)

[gallifreyanhotfive]

I am so, so insane about your watching the show fic. I have reread it like 4 times by now lol (I am such a sucker for doctor/master and their incredibly toxic dynamic <3). I'm assuming at some point we'll see The Parting of the Ways bc I think Jack is a pretty big source of guilt for this doctor, but would we see The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances? and if you haven't thought abt it, would you consider it? I'm very biased about Jack lol (and the 9th doctor in general), so I'm rly curious abt it!

also, idk how you've managed to write so much in such a short amount of time it is incredibly impressive and I wish I had your powers of. write

Hi hi hi!!!! Thank you so much!!! (Feeling very blessed with interaction rn. Much serotonin. :))

I am also rather biased towards Jack. :) My favorite Doctor changes on almost a daily basis (depending on who I watched/listened to last usually), but Nine is also quite amazing.

I definitely plan on doing all three titles you listed above at some point. The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances is basically my favorite Nine story. :)

I'm not sure when I'll get there quite yet though. I tend to plan out several chapters in advance, but even those are subject to change until the moment I start writing them lollll

But the way things are going so far is that after The Giggle we are having an interlude, going away from the new series for a chapter, back to the new series for two chapters, and then going to the audios for a little bit. I kind of have an absolutely crazy plan going on in the back of my head right now (like dear God y'all have no idea the horrors I'm planning on pulling out of my sleeve).

But after I subject them to the next round of horrors, I was thinking of using The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances in particular as a 'cool down,' just as they will be having a cool down period after The Giggle. And I always love a quick reference to the Doctor’s early life of course, which that story has.

Anyway, I'm not going to reveal too many cards yet because I'm cackling to myself about my evil plan rn, but this is sort of the plan as of rn (but as I said, until it is being written, the order is subject to change)

An interlude (and the possible addition of some of my favorite companions I desperately regret deleting from my first draft - seriously I have been kicking myself for months - which would involve quickly catching them up)

A regeneration story (funny as hell considering they're expecting a calm adventure, but the Doctor doesn't even think this one is that bad in comparison...)

Oh My God What Happened to Him (another regeneration story, but this one is Painful)

Poor Clara had to deal with THREE of you?

There's three of you again here too. Who's Vansell? Oh no you got shot. Now your leg is broken. God damn it now you're screaming your head off.

Did Shakespeare just roofie you with ginger?!?!?!?!

You might want to get off that airship. It's going to crash. Did you just save someone who was supposed to die? Oh fuck now you're emotionally invested in her. Oh no now she's your best friend.

Plastic Daffodils and a Doomsday Weapon - Sounds Like a Date To Me

And then the next round of Horrors commence, after which will likely be The Empty Child because yes.

And so on and so forth...

[nerdraging4point0]

My Own

So, I am reluctant-just a little-if I was completely you'd never see it, but back to the topic, I am a little reluctant to post this as it's not exactly a fic.

As some of you know I write as a hobby and have been talking about doing a story on the side. I finally came up with a plot base and a little bit of it written out already. I don't know where it is going yet, I don't know what I will do with it in the future, but I wanted to post it because I honestly think it's good and would appreciate feedback.

I am going to tag some of the people I both follow, read, and write for because as fellow writers and readers their opinion means something to me. Those that I am tagging are @synthetic-wasp-570 @throwingmetothelions @the-way-of-words @signs-of-ill-portent @kingdomof-omens @ladyveronikawrites @transmutethegold

Now remember, all of your feedback-regardless of if I tagged you or not is important, I only tagged a few of the blogs I knew off the top of my head.

The following is my own idea, my own creation of characters, and I would appreciate it that no one use them in anyway. Thank you. Without further ado, I give to you....this.

The air was clouded and heavy.

The various smells of weed, sweat, booze, and sex wafting around was enough to assault anyone's senses. Lennox leaned over the balcony of the lounge his brother Lux's club Luxuria was a popular choice tonight, as it should be, no club could compare to it-after all Lennox was co-owner, nothing he ever did was subpar.

Lennox's forearms leaned on the metal railing, steel blue eyes scanning the dance floor below. Bodies swayed to the music, their forms nothing but silhouettes under the violet neon lights. He could feel the pulse of every being in the room, their blood thrumming hard and loud, the sound carrying over the bass from the speakers.

"It's so alive, isn't it?" Lux came to greet his brother with a slap on the back, the open hand making contact between Lennox's shoulder blades. Lennox turned to see his own face, of sorts, looking back at him. Sapphire blue eyes standing out against the obsidian color of his sclera, pointed nose and clean-shaven round jaw being some of the similarities they shared. Short curly horns protruding from either temple on his head, clean cut dark black hair effortlessly combed back-Lennox had the thought that he should cut his after seeing his brother, but instead opted to keep his own level with his shoulders.

Lux wore his usual two-piece suit, slacks and a jacket only, always opting to be shirtless underneath to show off the intricate chest piece tattoo he'd been so proud of. One large white rose and two skulls emerging from an abyss of black, the tattoo reached his naval and cut into half of his throat, at the time Lennox thought it an extravagant purchase, but when you don't age, he supposed it was a decent choice; Lennox couldn't deny the art was good. His brother's wide pearly white smile on full display as he scanned his packed club.

"I am feeling it tonight, bro. I'm so charged." Lux took the railing in hand leaning back like he would pull the railing from the studs in the wall. His long black tail swished with a quick wag. Lennox's own tail stiffened up, the fur tip that reminded him of a lion swayed with the melody of the song playing, slow and seductive.

"It's a full moon. You always get this way." Lennox teased, not taking his eyes off the dancefloor. He was stalking, there must be something here to pass the time.

"So, what if I do." Lux jumped off his feet bouncing like a boxer pre-fight. "The pull of the moon goddess is strong; I'd fuck her into oblivion if I could."

"Didn't you do that three-hundred years ago?" Lennox felt the smirk pull up on his cheeks.

"It was just a quickie, at a party. And it wasn't the moon goddess herself, although she was close, just a witch who very closely resembled her." Lux corrected.

"So, all your tales are lies?"

Lux's pointed ears twitched but when he saw the small smile Lennox offered, he relaxed. Lennox turned back to the dance floor searching for what he knew they both needed. Down on the floor near the speaker was a girl in a short dress, her muscular thighs displayed for the whole club. She had ditched her heels, dancing on the floor barefoot. Her honey blond hair was all over the place, curtaining her face as she twisted and turned to the beat. She seemed like a fine specimen, a tight ass, chest was at least do-able, it certainly looked good in the dress. Maybe Lennox would make sure she kept it on tonight.

"What do you think of that one?" He jerked his chin in her direction, Lux turned following the gaze. "The one by the speakers." Lux's eyes caught sight of the girl, his wide grin turning from cheerful to sinister catching sight of his fangs in the neon's, a sparkle in those sapphire eyes.

"To share or to keep?" His tone dropping to a new low octave.

"Share first. You are not the only one charged."

Lux disappeared in a hurry to the dance floor, Lennox turned to head further into the lounge. He planted himself on the white couch kicking his feet up on the glass table in front of him, heeled boots making contact with the table caused his red wine to ripple in its glass. It would seem that a life like this would be tedious and repetitive after doing it for so many years, but the twins had only owned Luxuria for the last two years. Before that they'd been separate in their endeavors, Lennox owned various properties, had extensive hobbies, all successful. Lux had been a male escort for many years, it was a job he could be good at, charming, seductive and to the ladies he was handsome.

The horns, eyes and tail vanished among humans-the glamour of their demonic nature making their more obvious appendages invisible to the naked eye. But they couldn't hide from each other, witches, or their five younger brothers. Lennox was the eldest of the seven sons, being eldest meant a heavy burden and responsibility. But he didn't see it that way. He didn't care what his brothers did with themselves, they were their own people, he wasn't their babysitter.

[felixissterling]

Writing Challenge: Day One

Assassin x Pirate

Author's Note: Well, I guess this is what happens when I write during midnight? Sorry if this short story sounds sort of stupid, I was sleepy. (read the second note if you've finished the story or dni'd this lol)

Word Count: 5113 words

(Includes smut in the end)

★⋆⋆⋆——————⋆⋆⋆★⋆⋆⋆——————⋆⋆⋆★

★⋆★⋆★

A Mission Failed Yet Again

“Good morning, ma’am, how can I help you on this fine day?” James asked with a welcoming smile. The woman who had walked in did not return the same smile. Viola nudged James and whispered, “It’s the duchess, you idiot.” Viola and James both stood up immediately and bowed. Viola asked the duchess, “In what manner may we assist the duchess on this exquisite day, young duchess of Greencoast?” James snickered quietly and refrained from laughing.

The duchess looked unimpressed, she said to Viola: “You’re the best assassin on this continent.”

Viola nodded and she answered with the same exaggerated posh in her tone as she did before, “That is I, young duchess of Greencoast. I am the best on this side of the world, and it is not in any way self proclaimed.”

Duchess Josephine Irdina eyed Viola Amelia Comb from the tip of her hair and the tips of her feet. “I would like to employ you to assassinate a certain man who had wronged me.”

“Of course, young duchess or Greencast. Please state his name, the pay, and when you’d like him dead by.”

“Atlas Cruise Castor. Captain Atlas Cruise Castor of the Golden Pirates. He’s stolen from not only my possessions, but my heart as well. He;s run off with it and I want it back.”

“If he has your heart, then how are you…?” James asked with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ve fallen in love with him, you fool,” the duchess huffed, “He made me fall in love with him so that I wouldn’t mind him roaming around my mansions and staying the night. It was all a ploy and I am now broken-hearted. I want him dead because of that.”

“Ah, of course, young duchess of Greencoast. He shall be assassinated before…?”

“I want him dead in two days. He’ll be coming over to Greencoast just to set his homebase here.”

“That is much too quick of a deadline—”

“The pay is one million.”

“Accepted.”

★⋆★⋆★

“Pass the Spectra,” Viola ordered, her slender right hand expectantly held out and her left hand was coiled into a fist as she punched the man who had attacked her.

Placing the purple and black pistol into the hands of the strong woman, James did as he was told, he asked with a perplexed tone: “You’re going to blast them to their deaths? Wouldn’t it be a tad bit too loud?”

“I’m not a spy sent out on a stealth mission, James. I’m a notorious assassin known for her brutal killings,” Viola chuckled. She checked if the pistol was empty before adjusting the jacket she stole from a previous lover. “There’ll be more of them anyway, I wouldn’t want to shoot them all one by one — it’s too tedious.”

“I suppose so,” James replied with a slight bow, “Whatever you wish, mistress.” Viola snickered. It was typical of James to kiss her feet, so much so that she’d always wondered if it was because of him possibly being afraid of her shooting him to his death if he disobeyed.

With a burst of cackling from a large fellow, an army of toothy and mostly muscly pirates jumped onto the dock from deck. Overhead from atop the magnanimous ship’s crow’s nest stood a figure of exquisite clothing and large hat. “The captain,” Viola guessed with a murmur, squinting her eyes at the figure in hopes of seeing it clearer.

She was interrupted from a sword thrown to her by a pirate, only missing by an inch or so from her head. Viola rolled to a clear area of the dock after she shot the pirate with her pistol with a huff. The shot killed three other pirates around the target at once from the small explosion that erupted from the pistol’s metal bullet. Viola laughed from the silence that escaped from the other pirates, “Who’s ready to GET BLOWN UP!”

Short after shot, explosion after explosion, small groups of pirates fell at a time.  Their bodies fell with loud thuds that rocked the dock, sending small waves that sneaked atop the dock and wetting the shoes of Viola Comb. “Ugh, absolutely vile,” Viola groaned.

Blinded by her disgust from her wet shoes, her pistol was yanked from her with a brute force by a pirate twice as large as her. With a menacing glare that could’ve disintegrated Viola’s soul if she stared into his eyes for too long. Viola slowly stepped back as he slowly stomped towards her till only one step behind her was the water. “Hey, mate, look, I can’t swim, okay? So let’s figure something out. James— James! Do something.”

She groaned when she realised that James was pinned down and flirting with a female pirate who knocked him out cold. “Look, we can figure something out, okay? I’m sorry I killed all your good friends and comrades and colleagues or whatever. I truly apologise.”

The pirate snooped down till his face was inches from Viola’s face. “No one would accept an apology as bad as yours,” he chuckled. His smile curled into a sinister grin, his hands raised up to push her off, and—

“Enough.”

A sword’s blade separated Viola and the pirate, and a pistol pointed at the pirate’s head. Viola turned to face the sword-wielder and pistol-bearer, but all colour in Viola’s face drained when she saw who it was. The unmistakable face of Captain Atlas Castor stood before her. The man, although young in his mid-20s, was notorious for his killings and his thefts. It was he and his crew who slaughtered many others for power and treasure. It was he whose hand held magical artefacts known to be the cause of death of thousands of civilians. The larger his crew grew, the more his name spread as the most dangerous pirate alive.

“Retreat!” the captain ordered. The crew obliged with a synchronised bow that sent a shiver down Viola’s spine. The blade inched closer to Viola’s face, and he threatened “Don’t try a thing.” It was until the crew was aboard the ship when the captain opened his mouth once more:

“Comb. Viola Amelia Comb. The infamous assassin, I believe? Oh, I’ve heard of you,” he said quietly with a rasp in his soft voice. Viola had expected a much more strong-sounding voice to leave the mouth of a vicious pirate like him, but she supposed that genes wouldn’t always correspond with life. The man wasn’t haughty and vile-looking as she’d expected. He was a man with handsome features that Viola couldn’t help but feel a fiery feeling engulfing her heart when she saw him. “You dare lead half of my crew to their disappointing deaths?”

“What’s disappointing, hm?” Viola snickered, “The cause of death or how they fought back?”

“Both, but mostly how you killed them,” the captain stepped closer to Viola, he returned the sword to its place and handed the pistol to Viola — which was when Viola realised that the pistol had belonged to her. “It’s not everyday that my opponent is not defeated. Though I must say, you almost were defeated anyway. So I consider that another victory to my name. Say, as a reward, you will be a guest aboard the Golden Snake?” The captain nodded his head to his ship.

“Who’d want to be on the same boat as someone cocky as you?” Viola replied.

The captain only chuckled, “I’m not as cocky as you’d think.”

“You would definitely rub your ‘victory’ in my face.”

“Hm. I don’t think I would. Come on, just an hour or two? It’s rare for me to ever talk to anyone, anyway. And I’m quite interested in your little assassin thing going on.”

“Why?”

“Think of it as mere curiosity, my dear lady. Come, join me.”

I suppose it would be fine if I put up a friendly face to see how things could go, Viola thought.

★⋆★⋆★

“This is rather suspicious,” Viola commented. She was sitting on a comfortable armchair with a cup of tea in her hands. She eyed the captain curiously as she spoke. “What exactly is the point of this?”

“A little bonding session, obviously,” the captain answered, not taking his eyes off the newspaper. “Gerald, get a tray of biscuits, will you?”

“I can’t help but think that this puts me in a vulnerable position, hm? You could attack me at any second, maybe even poison my drink…” Viola felt the colour leave her face once again. She looked at her cup of tea with anguish when the realisation dawned over her.

“Have that thought just occurred to you? You have much more of a thick skull than I thought. How are you just thinking about the possible threats right this very second?!” the captain exclaimed, clearly surprised from Viola’s remark.

“I’m… sorry…?”

“You better be sorry, alright. Sorry for yourself. You’re glad I’m not the type to poison someone’s food or drink or play tricks. I prefer direct bloodshed to start a fight. You’re glad I don’t want to kill you.”

“You don’t?”

The man looked at her incredulously, “Seriously, woman. Relax. I want to know about your assassin thing.”

“I don’t get your obsession.”

The pirate named Gerald placed the tray of biscuits on the table, “Ever thought of a possibility that the captain li—”

“Gerald,” the captain warned, nostrils flaring and hand gripping his teacup. He cleared his throat before continuing, “Where-ever did your manners go? Don’t interrupt a conversation you are not a part of unless prompted to. ”

“Yessir,” then Gerald turned to Viola with a snicker before walking away, “You should see what he hangs on his bedroom walls and what and who he draws in his sketching books.”

“Gerald, expect no more but a week in the chambers after this,” the captain snapped.

“What did he mean?” Viola raised an eyebrow. The captain’s cheeks turned a tinge pink, “Nothing much, he just likes to embarrass me. Now, er, where were we? Ah yes, do tell me about yourself.”

“Er, okay. So you know that I’m a famous assassin and my name. Which is pretty much how you can sum me up. I grew up along the shores of Greencoast with my parents and one younger sister. At the age of 18, I was kicked out of home due to my partaking in robberies. My parents were disappointed. I then started taking up assassinations in order to survive, and because I enjoyed doing it, I continued to do it. Until now. That’s all, I suppose.”

“So you’ve been an assassin for seven years now.”

“Yes. Wait— you know my age?” Viola frowned.

The captain looked away awkwardly, he was not at all a subtle creature by any means, “Er… a lot— many know this, I believe. It’s a, er, common knowledge if you’re invested with the assassin trade.”

Viola felt a weird feeling rise up her chest, she drew a sharp breath before replying. “Oh. I see. So, captain, what about you?”

“Please — call me Atlas. So you know quite well that I’m the famous Atlas Castor known for his successful fights and thefts. I grew up near your town. It was the quiet town of Amenad. It was at the ripe young age of 15 when I ran from home in hopes to pursue my dreams of becoming the greatest pirate in the world. I guess the dream came true.”

Soon the awkwardness between the two washed off, and hours passed as they talked like old friends who hadn’t met for a long time. It was only until midnight when Viola noticed the time. “Oh god, has it really been five hours? I must go. I am so sorry for staying for so long.”

“No, no, I don’t mind at all. But surely you won’t leave at such a time. It’s dark outside.”

“I’m not scared of the dark, I’ll manage,” Viola shrugged.

“Maybe— maybe you could stay for longer?” Atlas asked sheepishly.

Viola stared at him, “I thank you for your hospitality but—”

“Please do.”

Viola bit her lip, but agreed in the end.

★⋆★⋆★

She was in the guest room. It was a cosy place — a comfortable bed slightly too big for her, an untouched wooden desk and chair, a corner dedicated to a small collection of books and a cushion to sit on, and a soft material carpeted the floor. She was still sceptical of this hospitality and kept her beloved Spectra tucked underneath her soft pillow.

What felt like an hour had passed, but Viola’s eyes didn’t ever shut for her to succumb into a sleep. With a groan she sat up and rubbed her eyes. She could feel the drowsiness trying to wrench her back into bed, but Viola knew that she wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon. It was typical of her to lay in bed for hours before finally sleeping no matter how sleepy she was.

Viola tied her hair into a bun as she looked for her boots by the doorframe in the dark. After a successful search, she reached for her jacket and made her way out onto the moonlight deck. The ship was spacious with only barrels, crates and nets to add any signs of inhabitant. She looked around — a large elaborately-detailed wheel was set at the wheelhouse, ropes hung about loosely that Viola nearly got tangled into them, in the crow's nest nestled a tall man that seemed to be staring into the distance.

Atlas, Viola realised. She grabbed a rope ladder that was rocking slowly but hesitated joining the captain. Perhaps he wants some alone time, Viola thought. She abandoned the thought of joining him and instead went over to the side of the deck and leaned against the wooden railing. She looked into the distance with a sigh. White and blue light made the small, cascading waves that barely rocked the ship glow an eerie light blue, contradicting the dock that seemed to rock up and down. Viola chuckled — the fight earlier that afternoon must’ve weakened the dock so much so that most of the pillars holding it up had broken. A thought occurred to Viola: would she fall off the rocking dock if she tried going back home? Viola shivered, she wouldn’t want to drown in the water.

“Are you cold?” a voice stinged the quiet air from behind her. Viola reached for the pistol attached to her belt as she turned with her heart nearly exploding from the sudden question. She immediately relaxed when she was met face to face with the charming captain. He giggled, “You should’ve seen your face — you looked as if you had seen a ghost.”

“Shut up,” Viola groaned whilst rolling her eyes and turning back to her original position. “You didn’t answer my question,” Atlas stood beside her as he stared at her expectantly.

“I am not cold,” she answered, “Well— maybe slightly.”

Atlas chuckled as he said quietly, “It is a rather cold night, is it not? I love it when it is so, it’s much easier for me to think clearly. I’m not wearing my usual jacket tonight, though, or I would’ve offered it to you to replace your flimsy one.”

“It is not flimsy! It’s made of a high quality material and it is not in any way a fragile piece of clothing.”

“Well then… I suppose it’s… thin?” Atlas grinned. “D’you want me to get my jacket for you? I’m used to the chill, but I don’t think you are.”

“Don’t bother, I don’t want to trouble you,” Viola huffed. Atlas smiled, “Mmhm, whatever you say. Are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Of course I am. I was a guest as a reward, no? I’m only staying for the night because you convinced me to. Why?”

“What?”

“Why did you let me stay the night? I’m a danger, I was just attacking you hours ago.”

“I dunno, just consider it as hospitality, I suppose.”

“Oh.”

The two stood in silence as they thought of how to continue the conversation. It took a few minutes for Viola to notice that Atlas had been staring at her. She felt something snap inside of her, was he expecting her to continue the conversation?

Viola finally said something to release the two from the prison known as awkward silence: “Y’know, I think I should leave now.”

“Leave where? The guest room, or…?”

“Home. I’m going home. There isn’t any use for me to stay here any longer, I’ve decided. This is rather silly. I’ll go get James.”

Atlas bit his lip, but respected her wishes, “If you say so… I’ll go get James for you.”

It didn’t take long for Atlas to come back with a sleepy James by his side. “Do you want me to accompany you?” Atlas asked.

Viola politely declined, “No, thank you for the offer, Atlas. I’ll see you soon, hopefully? I can’t wait to wipe out the rest of your crew.” She grinned widely.

Atlas returned the grin, “Don’t expect victory, Viola. I’ll be sure to maintain my streak of winning.”

Viola walked away with a laugh, and to her utmost relief she realised the dock hadn’t been rocking — it was all her imagination and the dock was as strong as ever. “Er, miss?” James started.

“Yes, James?”

“Weren’t we supposed to assassinate the captain and his crew?” James sheepishly asked.

Viola groaned, “Uuuuuuuuuuugh, you’re right. Does that mean we failed the mission?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“We’re not getting paid for this are we?”

“Even if we do, maybe a quarter of the pay for killing half the crew?”

“Well, I can work with that.”

“What about me?”

“You’ve been as useless as ever, James. But you will still receive some pay because you did do something anyway.”

“Oh.”

Viola walked with a burning feeling in her chest. For some reason, she couldn’t help but look back to the ship multiple times before getting her head to focus on possibly retrying the mission. She could try now, especially since Atlas could be in a vulnerable position, but she was just too tired.

★⋆★⋆★

“I WANT THE MAN DEAD!” Josephine roared. The slender woman huffed and pierced Viola with only her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay—” Viola attempted to apologise and calm the woman down, but it only made her more furious. “You had one job, ONE JOB!” Josephine stomped about and looked as if she could pull her hair out.

“Why’re you so pressed, anyway? We can just try again,” James said calmly.

“Atlas Cruise Castor stole treasure boxes upon treasure boxes full of gold and money from me. ME! The duchess of Greencoast! He’s got a lot of nerves coming back here. I want him to pay for his crimes—”

“Okay. relax, we’ll try again,” Viola shrugged, “Captain Atlas and his crew are unbeatable, they’ve only surrendered and retreated once, and that was years ago.”

“You’re the best assassin on this entire continent. You’ve defeated groups upon groups of bandits and crews upon crews of pirates by yourself and with the help of your friend here. You’re on the same level as Castor.”

“Give me another week, and I’ll bring you his head, trust me.”

Viola and James walked out with a quarter of what should have been their full pay if they had succeeded. “Do you think you can do it?” James asked.

“I dunno. I’m not as determined to kill him as I was then.”

“He’s stolen your heart as well?” James snickered. Viola snapped, “Shut up, James.”

★⋆★⋆★

“Are you sure about this, James?” Viola asked. She was sceptical about the location. “Of course I am,” James replied, “I got some information from the lands dealer that Mr Captain Atlas Castor is looking for a mansion to stay in to settle down in inbetween explorations. He’s making this town into his homebase, remember? That’s why we’re here. Don’t doubt me.”

“Uh-huh, like the time you made us go all the way to the Indian Subcontinent saying that our target was on a holiday there when in actuality—”

“That was probably the only mistake I’ve actually made.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Don’t be smug. You make more mistakes than I. The last time you tried killing the guy, you ended up having tea with him. You had the perfect chance to assassinate him but you were gushed by his talking about your near-victory and what-not. Don’t do it again this time.”

“And you were flirting with a pirate.”

“To try and get out of a situation! I was pinned down by pirates twice my size!”

“Okay, okay, whatever. Now shut up. Look,” Viola pointed to the ornate wooden double doors. Atlas Castor stepped in with an amazed face. He chuckled and said to who Viola suspected was his right-hand man, “Tarret, look at this! It looks bigger on the inside.”

“Well you did ask for a mansion the size of your ship, captain,” Tarret said. Tarret seemed to be the opposite of the charming and friendly Atlas. Atlas strided here and there, nodding and agreeing with the placements of the new furniture. “Exactly like I’d like it! Tarret, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Thank you, captain,” Tarret nodded slightly, following close behind his delighted captain. 

Viola and James decided it best to hide in a fragile-looking cupboard that was actually very sturdy. They planned that after Atlas and his pirates were out of sight, the two would climb outside onto the roof if an ambush seemed too risky.

“I think entering the mansion when we had the chance wasn’t the best idea. We could’ve just ambushed him and the rest from outside.”

“How do you plan to get in? The doors would be locked.”

“It’s an ambush, James, we don’t need to be stealthy.”

“Of course.”

Suddenly Atlas was walking in front of the cabinet. Viola and James didn’t dare to breathe. Soon after came pirate after pirate passing the cabinet a million times to explore the mansion.  “It’s going to be a long wait,” Viola sighed, “Let’s hope they don’t open the cabinet.”

It didn’t take long for the blue sunny day to turn into a cascading ombre of dark oranges, and faster for these oranges to turn into a dark blue that shadowed the quiet town of Greencoast. Viola and James stepped out of the cabinet after being sure that the pirates were all in their rooms. They had now decided that Viola should just assassinate the captain, and then assassinate the rest.

The two partners in crime sneaked through the hallways until they reached a room that they had determined to be Atlas’s room when they themselves had explored the mansion. Viola put an ear to the door and ordered James to go explore or hide. “I’ll go in, I think he’s asleep — it’s silent.”

“What if he’s actually awake?”

“I’ll just shoot him, he’s not ready for this.”

Viola opened the door, and to her relief it did not creak at all. Even through the darkness that was lit by a little bit of moonlight, Viola could make out a long lump on Atlas’s bed. She tiptoed to the lump and pointed the pistol at what she thought was Atlas’s head. She breathed in and her finger tapped on the trigger. She couldn’t bring herself to shooting the man — not after she had bonded with him after a five hour chat.

She’d never had a bond like that with any of her targets but she had to resist her hesitation. She took a deep breath, and—

“Pathetic,” a soft voice whispered from behind her. In a swift movement Viola was restrained from shooting with her gun by a large hand that grabbed her hand that was holding the gun, the other large hand found its way to Viola’s back as she was bent backwards, where she found herself reaching for the man’s waist as some form of support from falling. Ah, that was just a lump of fabric, wasn’t it? Viola thought.

“What are we, dancing?” Viola snickered. Atlas's white teeth shone in the moonlight as he grinned, “We could be.”

“You think I’d dance with you? You’re my target.”

“You’re going to fail this time anyway, relax.”

“Ouch.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Wait, what?” Atlas blinked in confusion.

Viola snickered and tried yanking the pistol back into her possession, only to be met with a bad result, “Agh, I thought I got you there.”

“You almost did,” Atlas laughed. He in turn yanked the pistol away from Violet and threw it away into a corner of the room. “So what’re you going to do now, Viola? Enlighten me with your wonderful assassin plans.”

“I don’t know, I’m in a powerless situation, aren’t I? I admit it,” Viola shrugged. Atlas chuckled, “One thing I’ve gathered from our chat three days ago: you don’t like to admit that you’ve lost.”

“I don’t, do I?” Viola giggled. Atlas grinned, “What are you planning, Viola Comb? Do enlighten me, I’d like to know.”

“I can call James for backup,” Viola shrugged again. What am I doing? Viola thought. She knew she couldn’t do anything now, and James would be mincemeat if he was to fight Atlas. Against anyone, really.

“Your friend James? I could crush him like mere paper,” James chuckled, sending a shiver down Viola’s spine. In silence James moved a hand down Viola’s waist and another through the back of her hair. His eyes shone a hint of desperation and longing and he wouldn’t look away. Viola froze, unsure of what to do. Should she act hostile or should she continue her friendly facade? Her instincts agreed with the latter. She inched her face closer to Atlas’s as her own hands made their way over his shoulders. “Whatever are you planning to do, Atlas Castor?”

“Things enemies shouldn’t be doing, Viola Comb.” Atlas pushed her softly onto his bed with a grunt. His lips pressed hard against hers. He’s desperate, Viola realised. One of his hands cupped Viola’s right cheek, and she felt as if flame was burning it. Strangely, Viola liked it. She liked the kiss. She parted her lips slightly, allowing Atlas to take an opportunity to reach for Viola’s tongue with his. Their tongues twisted and touched each other’s and Viola couldn’t help but press harder into Atlas’s lips, not letting him let go of the kiss.

“Desperate aren’t you, Viola?” Atlas finally broke the kiss by pinning Viola’s neck onto the mattress. “Say that for yourself,” Viola retorted as she tried getting up and reaching for Atlas’s lips again. “Say that for the both of us,” Atlas admitted. With his free hand he slowly unbuttoned Viola’s jacket and took it off her.

“Need help with the shirt?” Viola snickered. Atlas let go of her neck and in a split second she had him pinned down by sitting on him. She Took her shirt and undergarments off in a flash before once again going in for a kiss. “But this position is painful, darling,” Atlas whimpered.

“For you it is,” Viola chuckled, earning herself once again being pinned by the man and her pants and the rest of her undergarments forcefully taken off. Viola groaned, “Ugh, I had you then.”

“You think I’d let you sit on top of me like that?”

“Don’t mind that, how is it fair that I’m the only naked one?”

“It’s not my fault you’re easy.”

“Get those clothes off and pleasure me with all your might, I’ve had enough of this back and forth,” Viola ordered. I’m not supposed to be enjoying this, what am I doing? she thought.

“As you wish, darling.”

Viola couldn’t really see what the man was doing in the dark, but she soon realised he was undressed when she felt the tip of his dick grazing against her leg. “I don’t want this night to finish so quickly, y’know. You won’t mind if I delayed half your request, no?”

“Wha—” Viola started to ask, then stopped in surprise when she felt the cold tongue of Atlas Castor brush against her labia. She felt the fiery feeling return to her — it wasn’t the desperation she was feeling, so what was it? The feeling spiralled in her stomach and it even lingered around her vulva. It only started feeling like flames when Atlas started vigorously pressing and licking her clitoris. Viola let a soft moan escape her mouth — she grabbed Atlas’s head and she couldn’t help but tense her legs. Her head flicked up as she couldn’t help but increase the frequency of her moaning. Atlas quickened his pace until he was able to determine Viola’s sensitive spot based on how loud she would moan. She could feel herself excreting some sort of liquid while Atlas licked it all up.

“You know how to start exploring someone, don’t you?”

“I suppose I do,” Atlas stopped for a moment to answer, but he never resumed. Viola raised her head to look at him, and with a tinge of annoyance she said, “Why’d you stop? I was already starting to get wet.”

Her question was answered when Atlas moved up to insert the tip of his dick into an opening. With an overwhelmed feeling, Viola quickly said, “W-wait— Atlas—”

Atlas choked Viola from above her as he thrusted into her vagina roughly. The fiery feeling burst into fireworks and flames throughout her entire body and Viola couldn’t help but raise her legs in response and moan loudly.

“A-Atlas— that was way too sudden,” Viola muttered in-between moans. Atlas only grinned as he continued to thrust into her roughly over and over again, coaxing what seemed to be a million soft moans slipping out of Viola’s moans. “D’you think you could go faster or is that too hard for you?” Viola snickered.

“Is becoming a challenger your way of showing dominance? Make it your weakness, honestly,” Atlas groaned as he quickened his pace. His body moved against Viola’s, only making her fiery situation worse. She couldn’t even breathe from what she considered unnecessary choking, but she liked it. She was glad he did it, somehow. She groaned internally, she refused this was happening.

She was paid to assassinate the man who was pleasing her more than her past lovers, not whatever this is.

As if reading her mind, Atlas snickered as he tried teasing her in-between pants, “Still want to kill me, darling? Or do you want me to live so we could do this again tomorrow night?”

Viola scoffed as she moaned, “I want to kill you more than before.”

“Hm, sexy,” Atlas grinned as Viola felt a warm liquid being excreted into her.

★⋆⋆⋆——————⋆⋆⋆★⋆⋆⋆——————⋆⋆⋆★

Author's Note 2: Well I think that fucking sucked. I'll just consider this as a smut exercise lmao, I apologise to whoever actually read this thing. I think I should just stick to fluff with no smut, just some cheesy stuff idk

The lesson learnt and note to self: don't write while you're sleepy

Day One: Assassin x Pirate -- Completed!

Tomorrow, day two: Assassin x Civilian

Challenge list + writing progress

[zacksfairest]

Hi! I am the writing fairy! You should write! And then show me your writing! If you do, I’ll show you cats! Writing writing write write write!

I actually did wind up writing! This fic isn't done yet, but I suppose I'll put a litle snippet of what I managed to write over the last few days. It is not Unsounded related, unfortunately, (it's actually Star Wars/The Mandalorian. An old fic I started back in 2019) but hopefully I'll be writing an Unsounded fic for the fanworks contest <3

Anyway, here it is:

---------- Cassie inhaled slowly, a certain measure of calm coming over her as her finger rested against the trigger.  Her vision narrowed, years of training taking hold as the world fell away, leaving only herself and her prey.

Her lips parted. “Tra—”

The unmistakable sound of a discharged blaster cut her off, a single blaster bolt striking the Imperial in the shoulder.  The force of the shot knocked him off his feet and he fell to the ground with a dull thud, wailing all the while.

Out of pure reflex, she opened fire a bare second after that first shot made contact, squeezing the trigger of her blaster rifle in quick succession.  She barely felt the kickback through her armor, her gaze fixed on the Death Troopers, their attention momentarily diverted as chaos ensued.  Her target dropped after three shots: two to the chest, and one to the clavicle—the area nearest his unarmored neck.  Caedyc’s followed immediately after, though she couldn’t tell what had felled the trooper.

No, she was too busy trying to decipher the string of curses coming from Vys’kydir over the comms as the two remaining Death Troopers dove for cover.

“—di’kutla shabuir,” he spat, his frustration evident.  It was the first thing she could clearly make out.

“What?” Suriya demanded, whatever manner of confident composure she had managed utterly shattered.  “What happened?  Why in the manda’s name did you shoot, Vys?”

Cassie ducked down, the old windowsill exploding into small chunks of permacrete and stone as the Death Troopers began to spray the area with blaster fire, but she didn’t need to see out into the town square to know it wasn’t Vys’kydir who had fired prematurely.  The shot hadn’t come from the old bell tower; it had been too low, the angle of the blaster bolt parallel to the ground.

An angry snarl escaped her as she pressed herself against the wall.  She was so stupid.  She should have known better than to think the Mandalorian would go down without a fight—she sure as hell wouldn’t have.  She knew her people better than that.  She knew him better than that.

And now they’d lost the element of surprise, which meant she’d have to make a few adjustments.

“It wasn’t Vys, Suri!” Cassie yelled into the comms, the high pitched whine of Imperial issued blaster rifles making her ears ache.

“Sure wasn’t,” Caedyc added calmly, though he sounded a bit winded.  “Our friend’s one hell of a quickdraw, though.  I’ll give him that much.”

“Are you okay?” Suriya asked, her voice cracking slightly.  An acute guilt began to take root in Cassie’s chest.  “I can hear the blaster fire from here.”

“I’m fine,” Cassie reassured her, wincing slightly as a blaster bolt took out another chunk of the wall.  “Pinned down, though.  My cover’s not gonna last much longer.  Those rifles pack a nasty punch.”

“No kidding,” Caedyc said drily.  “I took one to the chest, knocked me flat on my shebs. I’m fine though, Suri.  Thanks for asking.”

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Caed’ika.”

“Ne'johaa, you two!” Cassie shouted as another round of fire rained more debris down on her.  “Vys, do you have eyes on our friend?”

“No,” he ground out, still clearly vexed.  “But if I had to guess, he’s pinned down across from you—against the wall of the building to your nine o’clock.”

“Osik,” she hissed, daring a glance out the window.  The two remaining Death Troopers had found cover in an alley across the way, concentrating their fire in the general direction Vys’kydir had indicated.  If she was going to get any kind of plan together, she was going to have to link up with their interloper—which, unfortunately, meant she was going to have to leave her quickly crumbling cover and brave enemy fire.

A long, resigned sigh left her.  It was stupid, but it was her fault they were in this mess in the first place.  And she’d be damned if she was going to leave one of their own to die at the hands of the Empire.  Much less him.

“Vys, I’m gonna need you to lay down some cover fire for me,” Cassie said, her hand coming up to grip the edge of the windowsill.  “You, too, Caed.  If you can manage.”

“For what?” Caedyc asked incredulously.

“Just do it,” Cassie replied, not bothering to curb her exasperation.  “On my mark.”

She felt the permacrete crumbling beneath her hand as her grip tightened, the stonework hot to the touch where blaster bolts had melted away the once sturdy architecture.  Her body grew tense, her thigh muscles pulled taut enough to snap as sweat began to bead along the flesh of her brow.

There was a brief pause in the deafening sound of blaster fire, and she made her move.

“Tracyn!”

With a strained grunt, Cassie vaulted over the windowsill and hit the ground running.  It took only a glance to see Vys’kydir’s summation had been right: the Mandalorian stood within the shallow entryway of a building across the way, his back pressed against the door, a small blaster in hand.

She ran full tilt toward him, a surge of blaster fire keeping her going—though it didn’t last long.  The sudden and unmistakable crack of a sniper rifle’s discharge brought the onslaught to an abrupt halt.  If she didn’t know any better, she thought she might have even heard a surprised yelp as Vys’kydir got off a second shot, followed by short bursts from what she assumed was Caedyc’s own rifle.

And while the Death Troopers attempted to regroup, Cassie made it to the other side of the gravel laden street, all but slamming into the door with a loud clang.

She looked up at the Mandalorian, breathless and shaking with the surge of adrenaline.  A featureless T-shaped visor stared back at her, though she could see the newfound rigidity in his stance, a range of emotions conveyed within that simple shift in demeanor.  Shock.  Disbelief.  Recognition.  A smug smile pulled at her lips, though it remained hidden beneath her own helmet.  “Copaani gaan, vod?”

[mariposa-writes]

Good Sleep - LaMelo Ball

Summary: hate writing these, so just read and find out.

A/N: This man is the love of my life (and his brothers).

It was hard, dating an NBA player. Not that it was Melo's fault. He tried to make things as easy as possible. He called whenever he could, making sure to at least check in on me once a day.

It wasn't like I made things any easier. I took a lot of pride in my job and it felt like a lot of the time when he was home, I was busy working.

Which is what I am currently doing. Its around midnight, when I hear the garage open, I know it's Melo. His team was supposed to get back earlier tonight, but their flight got delayed due to weather.

After a few minutes he enters our room. I moved in with him a 6 months ago, since I practically lived there full time anyways. We both also thought it would be a good way to spend more time together.

"Hey, babe." He says walking over to me and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. He heads into our bathroom, getting ready to shower. He hates how he feels after plane rides, always complaining about being dirty. "What are you working on?" He calls from the bathroom.

"Just work stuff." I respond, not having the time to explain. I have to have these reports ready by Monday. I'm a CFO for a major clothing company in the US. We are currently working on expanding to European countries.

Melo showers while I work and before I know it he's climbing into bed. "Babe," He whines, "when are you going to bed?"

"I don't know, soon." I answer, dismissively. He frowns, looking up at me from where he's laying.

"You work to hard. Your not even 22 and your the CFO for a major company. I worry you're gonna work yourself to death." Melo's always hated how hard I work. We've been dating since we were both 19.

I was getting ready to graduate college, when he was getting drafted into the NBA. Being born a genius helped me fast track my schooling and career.

I started interning with the company I currently work at when I was 17, the summer after my junior year. I started working with them when they were just a start up, but in the past four years they have rapidly grown and I've been a part of the process the whole way.

This company is like my baby and I'm the one that has to track everything to make sure we are achieving our goals. I never intended on working here this long, but I love the people I work with (the pay isn't bad either).

They promoted me to CFO when their old one left to work for a bigger company. What an idiot, they didn't have believe in the company and soon ours will be bigger than the one they are working for.

Three hours later and I'm still working, Melo's passed out. After he fell asleep I headed to the office he set up for me, not wanting to wake him.

I have a blanket wrapped around me, with my headphones in and a cup of hot chocolate sitting on the desk. Once I get this done, I'll be on Monday and present to our investors I will be on vacation for the next 9 days.

I haven't told Melo yet, wanting to surprise him since our schedules rarely line up.

I look up from my computer, when I see the hallway light turn on. I take my headphones out, knowing it's Melo. He walks into my office, frowning. "Babe, go to bed." He groans.

"Ok, just give me a few minutes."

"Nope, you always say that and then a few minutes turn into another hour or two and then you're only getting like 2 hours of sleep before you head into the office." He walks over and shuts my laptop, before pulling me out of the chair.

I whine and protest the whole way back to our bed, but he doesn't seem to care. He makes me lay down and tucks me in like I'm a little kid, before climbing in bed next to me.

Once he's in bed his, arm wraps around my waist as he pulls me closer resting his head on my stomach. "Finally, I can sleep now."

"You've been asleep this whole time." I argue.

"Yea, but now I'll get good sleep. I only get good sleep when you're with me." I smile, even though he can't see me. I continue playing with his hair, before we both drift of to sleep in each other's arms.

[selfishlove-tf]

5th Annual TF Story Exchange - for Jockifyme

G’day :) I wanted to challenge myself so I entered the TF Story Exchange to force myself to write something. The author I got for the exchange was @jockifyme​ so please enjoy. I hope I met your requirements @jockifyme​ .

***---***

I’m an accountant and sometimes we audit High Schools. We make sure that the donations or funds received go places they should be going to, we check payroll and budget; we call it “cash stuff” in the office because “expenses” and “finances” start confusing our smaller-minded Gen Z workers.

From that “defame our younger generation” comment alone, you should be able to tell that I am older – not too much but I feel myself reaching the other end of my thirties really quickly. Luckily, the stresses of older age haven’t touched me too much; I have my curly brown hair, though it is fading in colour just like my eyes which used to be emerald, now swamp. Got my height from my mum, she was six-three and she gave me my current six-one. Got my metabolism (or lack thereof) from my dad whose genes garunteed no weight would be gained – I was skinny, a measly one-forty pounds.

The lights in the schools office behind reception showed my touch-of-sunburn off more than I wanted to, my skin naturally pale like a ghost flared up with areas of red where I misapplied my sunscreen. I, however, didn’t feel the burn so the sun must’ve been somewhat lacklustre that day. Sunburn was the last thing on my mind anyway. Numbers, numbers, numbers. I enjoyed the numbers and I did well in maths back when I was in school some blah blah blah years ago – I’d rather not say how long – and was in the top ten of students in my school who graded highly during the final exams before graduation. The only part I hated was listening to the administration guy who lightly flirted with the teachers as they walked by. They couldn’t see it but the “that dress fits nice on you” and “did you forget your glasses because those eyes are shining today” commends he has said in the past ten minutes were dangerously close to the line of being fired should someone actually pay attention to him.

I continued my counts and record-checking and, soon enough, the admin guy was talking to me about football. I never got into that kind of thing, my focus was more on work and work and work. I didn’t need to watch a bunch of men running into each other, the idea was stupid to me. Yet, despite my disinterest in the topic, the admin guy continued to drone on about it.

I looked at my watch; I had only been here for an hour. All the kids were in their classes so, gladly, I decided to quickly take a break and get a drink. Stupidly, I forgot my water bottle and I didn’t want to deal with more dead conversation from the admin guy and, as I recalled, I remembered there being a bubbler/water fountains near the building facing the oval. With a quick “I’ll be back” to the admin guy, and a swift exit, I was out the door and headed towards the oval, a quick hello and hi to some teachers passing or students that were supposed to be in class. Reaching the bubbler, there was footsteps nearby and voices loudly talking. I leaned down, pulled the lever and started drinking, footsteps getting closer. The closer it got, the more I heard the topic of conversation.

‘I don’t know what we’re gonna do, man,’ one started. ‘Tyler’s out for the game tonight and we got no backup since Harry left.’

‘Cool it, Reid!’ another cut the first off. ‘We’ll find someone or deal with a short team no matter what coach says.’

‘Yeah, but where are we gonna find something so short notice, Jay?’ A third asked. I had become invested in the conversation that I didn’t realise that they were now walking behind me as I was still drinking from the bubbler until they stopped.

‘How about you?’ Jay asked.

It took me a minute to realise he was talking to me. I stopped drinking and turned around and was greeted by four teens in football gear. ‘You talking to me?’

‘We are looking at you,’ pointed the fourth.

‘Smart kid, though I don’t go here clearly.’ I gestured to my whole figure, hoping they weren’t dumb enough to think I was any younger than thirty-five.

‘Not a problem with us.’ Jay, who I assumed was the leader, stepped forward. ‘I’m Jay, and these are my bros Reid, Mikey and Kyle.’ He gestured to his friends as if I was interested in knowing them. Jay was short, wide and brunette; Reid was tall, thin and blonde; Mikey was tall, tan and built; Kyle was the shortest, brunette and athletic. The group did seem like the perfect popular boys of school, they just lacked more arrogance.

‘How would you expect to fix that?’ I questioned. ‘Compared to you guys, I’m weathered. Y’all haven’t even touched hard work yet.’ That comment seemed to irritate Reid, subtly puffing his chest up.

‘Hard work? Football is full time!’ Reid arched up.

‘Reid, not another word,’ Jay snapped. ‘You’ll only scare him away, and we’re already about to get scary.’

‘Oh, I’m shaking.’ I teased before rolling my eyes and started walking back to the office.

‘Take him,’ I heard Jay mutter.

Soon, three pairs of hands were on me and started to pull at me, dragging me in the opposite direction. I started shouting to let me go and, for a moment I thought why it was suddenly so quiet at the school; no students or teachers were walking by and no one seemed to look out the windows at the commotion I was causing. No matter how much I shouted and wriggled, the guys’ strong hands had firm grips. I looked behind me to where they were dragging me and found that they were taking me to the locker rooms. They barged in, pushed me to the bench and sat me down, Reid and Kyle holding me down while Mikey went off to grab something.

‘We’re gonna make sure you’re ready for the game tonight,’ Jay said matter-of-factly.

Mikey returned with football gear which I began to question myself about how stupid they really are. Jay motioned to Reid and Kyle as Mikey came to stand behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. Without warning, Reid and Kyle started to pull at my clothes, tearing my button up off and yanking my shoes off before pulling off my pinstripes. I tried to fight back with all of my strength but Mikey was stronger than he looks, making sure to hold me in place during the process. At the end of it, I was left in my briefs.

‘Let me go you freaks!’ I shouted. ‘I don’t know what you plan on doing but it needs to end now!’

Jay motioned to the football uniform and gear and Kyle and Reid moved almost immediately. Reid began with what looked like compression shorts, sliding them up my legs until they were on properly. I felt immediate embarrassment being dressed as if I couldn’t do it myself. When the compression shorts snapped into place, my legs felt like they were burning although bearable. No sooner did my legs start burning that Kyle had put on long socks and oversized football boots, and the burning spread down until it reached my feet. My whole lower half was on fire and, sure enough, when I looked down, I saw why. My thighs started to plump up, calves sharpening and I felt my toes touch the end of the boot. Soon as that began, Reid grabbed a compression singlet and slid it over my head and over my torso, Kyle soon following with the shoulder pads.

I was panicked, my whole body starting to feel like I’d worked out for hours, and my body was catching up. My torso bulked up, a bit of muscle showing as my chest puffed up and my biceps blew up. My flexed forearms had a roadmap of veins as my increasingly meaty hands gripped firmly on the bench. I was beginning to tire myself out through all the strain and flexing I was doing due to the pain of the growth. At some point, Jay told Mikey to let me go because he knew I wasn’t going anywhere, not that I could because of the amount of pain I was in.

Soon enough, as it had started to die down, I looked over myself while out of breath and saw how toned I got. I was in shock; something completely impossible just happened. When I looked up to the group, there was glee in their eyes, but mine saw red. I had no energy to do anything, though, exhausted from the growth.

‘What the fuck did you do?’ I gasped between breaths.

‘It’s not over,’ Jay said. ‘Look at me.’

He grabbed my chin and lifted my face to look at him directly in the eyes. He smiled before swiping some black paint onto my cheeks, and then he let go of my chin and stepped back. There was a brief moment where nothing happened, but it hit seconds later. I gripped my head and squeezed my eyes shut as images flashed across my vision of school, football, training, hanging out with the bros. Bros? No, I was an adult. I was here for an audit. No, that doesn’t sound right? I was on the oval with my bros talking about the game. No! The admin guy, we were talking about football while I was doing work… work? No, I was skipping class. My brain went back and forth and soon enough, the school-kid persona was taking over. All the games my bros and I played, the games we won and the after-parties we went to. My body, face, and mind were all getting younger. My hair turned a darker brown, keeping the curls, and my eyes had regained their shining emerald green. My sunburn cleared up and my skin looked tanned from spending weeks in the sun. Although keeping the muscle on, my body shrank a little and smoothed out. After all of a few minutes, my head cleared and my body no longer felt like it was burning. I felt completely painless, in fact, I had a lot of energy.

‘You good, Jack?’ asked Reid.

I looked up at the group, a brief pause before nodding my head. ‘Still mad Tyler can’t make it.’

‘Well, we gotchu at least,’ Mikey pointed out. ‘We’ll sure win tonight.’

‘We always win, bros!’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Jay cheered. ‘Now let’s get practicing! Don’t forget your jersey, Jack.’

I looked down at the bench where my jersey was. I grabbed it and slipped it on, unknowingly sealing the transformation. ‘Do we gotta wear the shoulder pads during training?’ I complained.

‘Shut up and get out there!’

[asshlyyyy]

On The Second Day of Christmas

Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x Fem!Reader

Day One | Day Three

Welcome to day two of twelve. So far it is going so good. I was supposed to also post part four of Fairytale... that will be tomorrow. Fairytale will be posted first and then The Third day will be posted later on in the day.

I love and appreciate all you guys that stick around for my writing it means a lot to me. Happy Holidays and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of sex, Spelling and Grammatical Errors Most Likely

Word Count: 1.3k

You woke up early the next day. Escaping from Elvis’ warm embrace, you made your way to the closet to get dressed into some warm clothing. Before you left for the store you made to write Elvis a quick note letting him know where you are going. Elvis had this fear that one day he would wake up and you would have up and left.

Of course, you would never in your right mind leave Elvis. Sure, he had some anger issues here and there, but everyone did at the end of the day. You got past it and usually, it ended up meaning you two had some angry sex at the end of the day. Which of course… you were not complaining about.

Anyways, back onto the task at hand. It was currently day two. You had to get some breakfast and supplies for the rest of the day. Day two was turtle doves. Sure, you could probably find some live doves, but where is the fun in that? You will happily turn turtle doves into the literal saying. Looks like you were going back to the toy store to find dove and turtle plushies.

You picked up your coat and wrapped it around yourself, and then picked up your purse. The keys were already in there, so all you had to do was head out to the card. One of which Elvis so graciously gifted to you. Even though you could’ve easily driven one of the many cars he owned. But, you loved him and you loved the car he got you.

As you got into the car you pulled out your little notepad. Day one was crossed off. Now you have eleven more days… Which are easier said than done. You just had to get creative, and that started today. You started the car and you were soon on your way. 

You arrived at the store and got all the supplies you needed for the rest of the day. Then you grabbed one last thing. One that could change your and Elvis’ lives forever. 

When you got home you noticed that Elvis was once again gone. It didn’t upset you, in fact, you were quite happy. Because once again he could walk in and be surprised. You brought all the bags inside, in one trip, and carefully placed them on the floor. First things first, you needed food in your belly, and then you can get to work.

As you reached the kitchen you spotted a note on the counter. You picked it up and felt your heart flutter. You loved when Elvis used notes. It may be a simple I love you, to know where he was. It was a simple gesture that meant the world. Good morning sweetheart, I am going into the studio again.  I’ll be home around five today. I made you some breakfast, it’s in the fridge. I love you < 3~ Elvis

You went into the fridge and found the breakfast that Elvis was talking about. It was so simple yet looked so delicious. It was two pancakes, with fruit cut up on them and a cup of syrup on the side. He knew you didn’t like soggy pancakes, hell no one did.

You pulled it out of the fridge and went to warm it up. As it was warming up you pour yourself a glass of water. By the time you were done with that, your food was done heating up. 

You finished your food quickly and you moved to the living room to get your project started. This time, you got into the Christmas mood. You lit the fireplace, and even put on a Christmas record. You were trying to inhale all the Christmas spirit you could get.

Now, you didn’t want to talk about what you did to those poor plushies… but you had people dying to know. So, to keep it simple… you cut off the turtle's heads and replaced them with the Dove’s heads. Yes, there was a lot of dismembering… and you’ve seen worse cursed items, but this was at the top. Still, in a weird twisted way, they were cute.

You set them up near your first day of the christmas project and smiled. You couldn’t wait for Elvis’ reaction to this. So, you went around and did some house chores. You knew Elvis had to be done soon on his work, in fact… you were going to make sure he wasn't working himself up to Christmas. Which he has before. 

The clock struck five and you felt as if you had done nothing. That wasn’t entirely true, but it definitely felt like it. You had moved all your craft supplies to a spare room, and tidied up every room. It looked clean and neat. That was what was important in the end. 

“Hi my love,” Elvis said gently and pulled you in a hug. You let out a hum and engulfed yourself in his scent. You wanted to spend more time with him, and you were going to make sure of that.

“Hi Elvis,” you responded back and looked up at him. He smiled down at you and leaned down to connect your lips together for a kiss. 

“Want to see day two?” You asked as you pulled away.

“Of course,” he nodded in response. You let out a little sinister laugh and brought him over to your setup. You turned for his reaction and just laughed.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?” He asked in shock. 

“Two turtle doves,” you replied like it was nothing.

“Darlin, those are not turtle doves. Those are fuckin’ mutated doves. What the hell did you do?” He looked at you with wide concerned eyes. 

“I made turtle doves.” You once again pointed out. They were indeed turtle doves and no one could change your mind from that. 

“You- It’s not literal babe. There are actual turtle doves.” He tried to educate you. Now, you were not stupid, of course, you knew there were doves called turtle doves. You weren’t a toddler. 

“Well, on the second day of Christmas… my true love gave to me, two turtle doves and a partridge in a pear tree~” You sang. Elvis let out a sigh and shook his head.

“‘M gonna have nightmares about those damn things.” He started to walk away.

“And we’re only starting!” You followed after him.

“Don’t remind me now,” He took off his coat. “They aren’t all gonna be cursed like that right?”

“I think this is the only real cursed one.” You chuckled and grabbed his arms and wrapped them around yourself.

“Good, because I don’t think I could take every day looking at cursed things. Which means we’re gonna put those in the way back.” He told you. 

“Oh my gosh yes! Because then it’ll be like a surprise on Christmas.” You gasped. It was honestly genius when you think about it. Your and Elvis’ families came in on Christmas and it would be a fun treat to show them. 

“Oh hell no,” Elvis shook his head, “‘m gonna throw them in the damn trash.”

“You can’t,” You said staring into his eyes. You gave him this look that screamed if you do that I will throw you in the trash. 

“Why not?” He asked idiotically. 

“Because you love me.” You said with a smile. He rolled his eyes playfully at you. 

“Mmm, that is true,” he leaned down and pressed your foreheads together. “I didn’t sign up for cursed turtle doves though.”

“But you didn’t expect them. I’m keeping this relationship fun.” You pointed out all so obvious. 

“You’re keeping it cursed.” He plainly said. It was not your turn to playfully roll your eyes. 

“Oh shut the fuck up.” You giggled and closed the distance between the both of you. Lips perfectly sculpted together made you never want to pull away. He was so perfect in every possible way, and you could feel the love he had for you in a single kiss. 

Tomorrow was day three, and you had the best idea for it.

Artwork made by the wonderful @nora-nexus-34

Want to join my taglist? // Let me know If I spelt any wrong! I have updated my form for my taglist. You will be tagged under everything now in that selected fandom/person. Just makes my life easier.

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[snootsrottmntcollection]

HC for Donnie Helping Reader Out with Astronomy Stuff (platonic)

Author’s Note: An indulgent little snippet. I’m rather interested in astronomy, and over the break I was given the privilege of taking the school telescope home with me to try out. I have no clue what I was thinking, since I’ve never operated a telescope before and I’m a total amateur. Last night, I spent hours trying to figure the thing out with a friend, however the instructions were worthless, and the Internet wasn’t helpful either. So, instead of wallowing in my terrible mood, I shall write!

Keep in mind that I live in the middle of nowhere, and seeing the stars is easy where I am because there is so little light pollution. I’ve also lived right next to a big city before, and the stars were essentially non-existent. If you want to look at the stars through a telescope, do your research! And because it’s very important, NEVER LOOK AT THE SUN THROUGH A TELESCOPE. Permanent eye damage will ensue.

Before he arrived, you already set everything up the way you thought it was supposed to be. The instructions told you to let the telescope cool down to the outside temperature, so you did.

It wasn’t just cold though; you were shivering from head to toe. Hot beverages have been made. And coffee, especially coffee. Stargazing is best done in the early hours of the morning after all.

The instruction manuals were all unorganized and open on the table. Preparation was a nightmare within a nightmare. Reading through everything was difficult, to say the least.

The filters and other attachments were still packed in their boxes. You have no idea when or how to use them, since nothing about color filters had been mentioned before.

The only thing keeping you away from a crime is your music taste.

He begged you to let him try out the telescope. Saying yes was the obviously correct choice.

Bouncing off the walls, absolutely insane, buzzing with excitement-

You had to pull yourself together and hush up about his bad boy image. So, so much self-control.

Donnie is so happy that he doesn’t have to wait for the telescope to cool down. He’s very appreciative of the drinks as well.

However,…

“I should have brought my heat lamp with me…”

“That would’ve defeated the whole idea of me putting it outside to cool off.”

“Dramatic sigh. Correct.”

This dude entirely disregards the manuals.

Walks away like they mean nothing to him. Which they don’t.

“Are you sure you don’t want to look through those?”

“Trash! It’s more like advertisement than instruction anyways.”

“Amen to that. I spent three hours looking up the terms they used.”

“That’s just a skill issue, and one that I do not have!”

Despite your apparent skill issue, he’s surprisingly patient when it comes to explaining what each little piece does and why it’s built in. His expertise was sadly not enough, as few pieces made him scrunch up his face in confusion.

The look of disappointment on his face as you finally convince him to look at the instruction manuals is comedy gold. It took you several minutes to stop laughing.

He didn’t want to look at the manuals anymore.

Donnie was quick to find decent explanations online, hidden in some wacky corner of the web that you were mildly suspicious of.

Whatever he read apparently did the trick.

You can actually see things now. And the filters are used for something important! You honestly just played around with them a bit, and took pictures on your phone. A totally violet Donnie wasn’t something you thought you needed, yet here you were.

You can confidently say you’ve seen Venus and Mars through a telescope.

Donnie even helped you find some constellations in the vast night sky. In a very meticulous and mathematical way, but hey, at least Gemini was fun to find.

You get to talking about the Andromeda galaxy for so long that your drinks partially froze over.

Taking everything back inside was so much easier with a helping hand.

Donnie decided to stay the night, meaning musicals and intense debates over miniscule junk.

You appreciate his company, even if astronomy wasn’t involved.

The two of you start getting ready for bed after the neighbors complained about your karaoke session.

“Regrets are for the weak.”

“I’m so weak dude, I can’t even.”

“Then cower.”

Best goodnight words in the history of goodnight words.

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it!