#little snippet for a fic idea I had…

[pinecavity]

“Because you don’t trust me.”

That gets a reaction.

A sharp breath. A flicker of something in his expression, gone too fast for you to catch.

“You think this is about trust?” Caleb asks.

The question lands like a slap.

Because no—of course, it’s not about trust.

It’s about the way he’s always been like this.

Always the one to stand in front of you. Always the one to take the hit first. Always the one to decide, without your permission, what you need to be protected from.

Caleb, who remembers what you don’t.

Caleb, who was there when you weren’t.

Caleb, who carries the weight of something you can’t even name.

It’s never been about trust.

It’s about him.

What he thinks he owes you.

What he’s willing to become for you.

[kakushigotofanclub]

Sanemi and Obanai have the most important character dynamic in KnY to me right now and I so badly want to write queerplatonic saneoba fic but I feel like my writing style depends so strongly on dialogue that I just can't do it because it would 100% be an unsaid thing. Like I envision their relationship would be something like...

'I hate everyone, but I can tolerate being around you. I might even. I might even LIKE being around you, actually. But there's no way in hell I'm gonna admit that, so we're just gonna pretend it's a coincidence we spend so much time together. We just happen to be in the same place all the time. But I'm not attached to you and I don't get worried about you or anything like that. At all. Ever. That would be stupid, so don't get any wrong ideas (but god just please be careful I don't know what I would do if I lost you.)'

You know. Like cats.

[catzy88]

Butchlander Hanahaki Disease AU with Homelander who has always craved love, looking for it in all the wrong places, falling in love with his nemesis Billy Butcher who hates him and wants him dead. All the emotional hurt and angst in the world with Homelander's already unstable mental health declining further into deep depression and self-hatred. His physical health deteriorating slowly as well, because even the strongest supe alive isn't immune to the deadly flowers blooming inside him.

Butcher finds out and is gleeful, rubbing it in Homelander's face when they meet. Saying, that it's no wonder the supe has fallen victim to the sickness caused by one-sided love, because who could love a monster like him?

At this point Homelander is already quite far gone with the disease, and hearing the object of his love telling him that he's "an unlovable cunt" causes Homelander to start violently coughing and vomiting a blooming Trillium recurvatum. Looking up at Butcher with wide and terrified eyes, Homelander takes wobbly flight.

Naturally, Butcher doesn't recognize the crimson flower, coated with more crimson of Homelander's blood. But he takes a photo of the mess, and when he shows it to the Boys, they make a reverse image search.

Trillium recurvatum. Bloody Butcher.

And when all heads turn to look at Butcher, there's not much else to say than, "Fuck me", paired with a diabolical grin. Because Butcher just found a way to finally kill the worst supe cunt on Earth. And what a poetic way, too. Homelander destroyed the love of Butcher's life. Now Butcher's going to do the same to Homelander with his mere existence.

But a supe of Homelander's caliber doesn't succumb to any illness or ailment nearly as fast as a regular human would. So, there's a lot of time for Butcher to find more dirt about Vought, since getting rid of Homelander is only one part of dismantling the megacorporation.

So, one day searching an abandoded facility that looks like it had been a lab of some sort at one point, Butcher stumbles on a box with old VHS tapes simply named "John #001", "John #002", "John #003", and so on.

Butcher begins watching the first tape, where there's a small blond, blue-eyed baby that makes Butcher feel at unease. The feeling increases with every video as the child grows and is subjected to absolutely inhumane conditions and torture. And when the child finally gains blood red eyes, shooting lasers from them, there's no doubt about the child's identity anymore. John is Homelander.

Butcher's conflicted. Very conflicted. Because he has this image of Homelander as a ruthless and sick psychopath set in stone. But these videos have made his conviction waver.

So, after all the emotional hurt and angst (not depicted here, because I fail), there's a happy ending with Butcher having snatched Vought's crown jewel right under their nose, slowly warming up to the man known as John, finally returning his feelings, and becoming a real family with their son Ryan.

[pencildragons]

Thinking forever about my au where padmé is very happily married to both anakin and sabé, and, possibly due to his subsequent critical proximity to sabé (who imo would take EXTREMELY limited amounts of his shit and anyway She Was There First) + the aggressively healthy polyamory negotiations that ensue after a LOT of couples therapy with the 3 of them, narrowly avoids but does avoid Falling during the events of RoTS. instead, in a Series Of Circumstances that involve obi-wan being kidnapped by the seperatists/dooku/grievous and cody being presumed dead a month or so prior, anakin: is argued off the mental ledge by sabé, kills palpatine with her, rescues his master from being tortured, gives up his vow as a member of the knight corps (but not necessarily the Jedi order), and promptly has a mental breakdown that has been thirteen years in the making.

Simultaneously and in the immediate aftermath of this, padmé is blowing shit the fuck up in the senate (only just metaphorically) as the republic threatens to crumble and collapse under the weight of its own corruption—everything is in absolute chaos, peace has been reached and the GAR has been dissolved, so the war is KIND of over mostly??? This however results in the two new bereaucratic nightmares of: a) the Confederacy of Independent Systems is still very very much a thing and b) of what the fuck do you do with two billion super soldiers who although being sentient very much still do not yet have full sentient rights, and where the fuck do you put them without collapsing planetary economic infrastructures???

this is all very very fine and a great distraction from the fact that her husband, her wife, and her friend-slash-brother-in-law are all to lesser and greater extents both physically and mentally fucked up beyond belief rn—except then she’s the target of an assassination attempt, maybe by one of former-chancellor-palpatine’s supporters (because let’s be real, anakin killed him on the basis that he was The Sith Lord who also happened to be an extremely corrupt galactic leader; however much he sucked hugely, he was above all playing a very very long game and remarkably good at hiding his tracks, so there are of course many who believe the Sith thing is somewhere between a hoax and a political conspiracy). Her spine is badly injured during this, and she ends up having an emergency c-section a month premature.

it is at this point that padmé naberrie thule amidala decides ‘fuck this actually’, retires early, and rounds up her wife, her husband, her friend-slash-brother-in-law, her two newborn children, her droid, her husband’s droid, and a nurse droid, and moves back to seceded Naboo to live on her family’s estate, and then to the mountainous belt that her mother is from, which is when my fic vaguely planned around this idea actually begins.

[tk5reader]

I don’t know if anyone’s thought of this, but it came to mind as I was playing SWTOR and remembered playing GW2.

What if the Jedi Order had been more about following the flows of the force? Like, they could have been a nomadic group (split into tribes maybe? I’d use clans, but I want some distinction between the Jedi groups and Mandalorian clans & coverts. I don’t know another word to use so let me know if there is a better one to use!) that followed the will of the force wherever it took them. Which often had them literally going on quests (hence the SWTOR and GW2).

They would still uphold the peace and justice in the galaxy and especially protect the vulnerable, but they weren’t really hindered by the republic? If someone needed help then they would go in and help regardless of if the planet was an ally of the republic; their goal is to help people not follow the republics orders. I imagine it’s kind of like the gaang (ATLA my beloved) when they just show up, complete a side quest with some chaos, and then move on 😂

And about the tribe thing, they would all be part of the order, but in order to travel well, be surrounded by the people they get along with best, and who understand them, they split into tribes. So the Jedi would have temporary settlements or small groups temporarily staying in places where people need help. Perhaps with a few permanent temples around the galaxy for the less free spirited Jedi who wish to stay put and help that sector of the galaxy. The tribes could be fluid in that they would regularly meet up (1:1 tribe meetings, several tribes meeting up, and/or mass gatherings during celebrations) where the groups mingle, bond, update each other in person rather than over holo, hear news, and can change which tribe they wish to travel with so the tribes are ever changing.

What about finding padawans? Perhaps the force guides them to force sensitives that need to be trained. And in this nomadic Jedi universe, they could take Luke’s approach with Grogu in that the force sensitive can choose whether to continue training to become a Jedi and follow the flow of the force or they can stop their training once it’s controllable and stay at their home.

Anyway I’ve been thinking about this for a while and I finally had to just info dump the idea lol

[amoremagnificentbastard]

WIP Whenever

@honeybee-bard tagged me today.

Which means: WOE, THE LONGFIC BE UPON YE

No-pressure tagging @deadly-diminuendo, @yennefer-of-vengerbergs, @mutualcombat, and @atsadi-shenanigans!

[novelconcepts]

🖤 taivan :)

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

She won't beg, she tells herself when it becomes clear what's happening. She won't fucking beg. It's a disservice to everything they've gone through, to beg.

Still, when the moment comes, she finds she isn't half as strong as she needs to be. She isn't on her knees, but all the same: she knows Van can see it in her eyes. How she can't stomach this. How she doesn't want it.

"You're going," she says thinly. "Where?"

Van shrugs. She looks profoundly uncomfortable, as if she woke this morning and carved a facsimile of herself from raw granite. Maybe this isn't the real Van at all. Maybe she'll blink, and the real Van will materialize from their bedroom, easy as always.

"You're going," Tai repeats. "Really?"

Van nods. She looks miserable. Her backpack is sliding off her shoulder. Her hair is so long. Even after the rescue, she never cut it. Even after the rescue, she kept it just as it was. Long, and tangled, braided only when Tai's fingers delved deep and coaxed it into shape.

Her hair's the same, and Van is, too. The same as she was out there. Wild-eyed and flat smile. Not the way she was ever meant to be.

"You'll come back," Taissa tells her, trying to hold firm. She won't add please. Won't make demands. She says it like a truth of nature. Clouds spill rain. Summer gives way to fall. Van Palmer comes back to her.

Van doesn't move. Doesn't smile, or laugh, or say nah, probably not. Van just grips the strap of her pack, standing there in a checkered jacket and hole-ridden blue jeans, her hair falling into her face.

"Van, I can't--" Can't do this. Can't understand it. After all this time? After everything? Van is the one walking away? "Van, we should talk. We have to."

Van almost twitches at this. Her scuffed Converse sneakers didn't belong to her, at the start. Whose were they? Travis'? Natalie's? Shauna's? They're the color of blood, faded and worn. Taissa can't look at them. Can't look at anything except Van's face.

"Van, we should--"

She moves, then, with startling speed. Moves in, her hands still gripping her backpack, and her mouth closes over Taissa's. It hurts, being kissed this way. Not because it's hard, or rough, or violent, but because it's gentle. Because it's a feather brush compared to what she's used to, what they both need, and because it's gone before Taissa can fully process it in the first place.

"Bye, Tai," Van says, and then she's just...gone. Out the door. Down the stairs. A flash of red beyond the clean glass of the window behind their couch.

Tai's couch, now. Tai's couch, in Tai's living room. Tai's apartment.

Van's keys are still on the table. That's what tears her open. The keys, on a ring with a peeling rainbow pendant and a lucky rabbit's foot. Van put them there this morning. Last night. Whenever she decided she had to answer some call Taissa can't hear.

She doesn't beg. She never would. No part of her would allow it, not even for this. Maybe Van knew that. Maybe it's why Van went.

She sinks to the floor, eyes on the door. Waiting. Certain, somehow, that Van will slink back up those stairs. Back through the door. Rewind the tape.

She's waiting a long, long time.

[seventh-district]

tfw you're trying to write a Genshin fic but ur memory is shit so u have to leave urself [REMINDERS] to come back and correct your spelling/figure out NPC names/scour the wiki to double-check character and story lore, because if u even so much as glance away from the google doc in the moment you'll lose all of your writing momentum

coughs [link to some other (better) excerpts from the fic since the post didn't make it into the tags and i'm too lazy to remake it]

[yujeong]

kpanniversary2024, prompt 9: Trust

Kim realized pretty quickly why he had been attacked. Curiosity killed the cat had given it away but even without it, it was clear the reason had been to stop his investigation from advancing. The investigation about one of the most earth-shattering events that had happened in his life. Tankhun’s kidnapping. Right now, he was at a dead end. He needed a lead, anything to move his investigation forward. He had been working alone all this time but a tiny voice in his head was giving him ideas. Pete had skills. Pete was loyal, not only to his family - to Korn - but to him as well. He had proven that by becoming a human shield for him. Kim would be a fool to deny that. And Pete liked Tankhun. He had never complained like the others had, begging Korn to transfer them to him or Kinn. He was good to his brother, a fact Kim was thankful for. So maybe, it was worth a try. He knew it was a risk, such a huge risk, so many things could go wrong and yet- “Pete,” he said, his voice wavering. Kim made a decision. He made it by saying something he had been certain he would go through his entire life without uttering. “I need your help.”

(Snippet from The Knight's Pawn because I love that fic to death ❤️)

[iwonderwh0]

One more scene for this out-of-body fic idea. This one is (almost) directly following the one started here

It was decided that when it comes to Hank going to sleep, a phone with Connor will be left in the garage, right next to the washing machine set for the longest cycle of two and a half hours. Additionally Hank promised to leave a working fan to maintain the noise present once the washing machine finished its job.

That was the plan.

What it didn't account for was the fact that Hank would need to actually do the laundry and all the laundry-related tasks, and to his own regret, he decided that it was a great occasion to finally wash all the bedding - a chore consisting of (as he realised a little too late) the most tedious tasks. Tasks such as: unbuttoning and removing all the pillowcases, sheets, duvet cover and replacing them all with new ones by going through the miserable process of searching for the replacement bedding in a closet, fitting all the pillows into according pillowcases, buttoning them back on and the worst of it all – fitting the comforter into a new duvet cover. This was too much work. He could have simply loaded the washing machine with the content of laundry basket and call it a day. That's what he should have done. Now it was too late.

He lay down on a bare bed and stared at the ceiling as the pile of removed bedding frowned at him from the corner of his eye. He tried to pretend it wasn't there, ignore it, but he could still feel it taking up space -- both mental and physical -- even with his eyes closed. This knowledge alone filled him with the kind of dread only the tedious unfinished tasks could induce. Tasks like making an appointment at the doctor's office or cancelling a subscription he didn't remember having, reminded him of it only by a weekly junk-mail. Tasks that are easy to do, but much more tempting to just ignore. Let them pile up and rot.

"I forgot how much I fucking hate laundry," Hank grumbled, cutting through the silence of the last couple of minutes.

"I thought you hate doing the dishes," Connor said.

"I hate doing laundry and the dishes. But if I had to choose, I'd rather do the dishes."

"I'm sorry. I would help you if I could."

Something about sincerely apologetic tone of android's voice annoyed Hank and he scoffed.

"Sure you fucking would."

"Is something wrong?"

"No. Yes. It doesn't fucking matter."

Hank pressed his palms against his face and sighed.

"Fuck...This is embarrassing," he said and instantly winced from realisation of saying it out loud - something he didn't intend to do.

"Laundry?"

Hank huffed and applied more pressure to his palms, seeing colourful spots appearing at his fake vision of closed eyes.

"Yeah. Laundry."

"Is the process of laundry embarrassing in itself or is it-"

"-Connor. Just stop, okay?"

Connor got quiet, but only for a moment.

"You know, you don't have to do it today," he said.

"That's what I told myself yesterday. And...Shit, I don't even remember when was the last time I did it. And now I already took the sheets and covers out..."

"So you're already half way there, much closer than yesterday, right? You can do it tomorrow morning."

Hank didn't feel like arguing and insisting on doing something he already subconsciously decided not to do, so he agreed. He abruptly thought if android tried to use reverse-psychology on him to make him finish making the bed now, but if that was the case -- Hank thought -- he should have known better than to do it like this.

"Tomorrow it is, then. I'm not doing it."

He took his hands off his face and stared at the pile of removed bedding. The sight of it was nauseous. He turned to his side and looked at the phone laying on the other side of the bed instead.

"What about you? What are you doing exactly? I'm sure you're not only here talking to me."

"Correct. But I try to focus on my audio input the most, so what I'm doing on the background is not so important."

"You can still tell me about it," Hank turned to his back.

"You want me to talk about what I'm doing?"

"Couldn't be more clear than that."

Connor made a noise - something between a surprise and content.

"It's not much, there isn't enough computing power for me to use, so mostly I'm just surfing through text articles. For example, when you mentioned hating laundry, I tried to find something that might change your perspective on it. I found that there's a music album named 'Laundry Service' released on November 13, 2001 - the same day the President of the United States signed an executive order allowing military tribunals against foreigners suspected of terrorist acts as part of the war on terror following the September 11 attacks."

"Wow," Hank elongated the word and shook his head, "I must admit, it does indeed change my whole perspective on laundry."

He chuckled at his own joke reaching the phone to move it closer.

"Is it something you only do now or..," Hank started.

"No, I've been also doing it before."

"Ah, I get it. Can't be entertained by a conversation only. Can't blame ya. I'd probably do the same if I had a computer for a brain to do this kind of shit unnoticed."

"It's not about my level of entertainment and more about not being familiar with some of the cultural references I may encounter. I can't know it all, Hank."

"Right. I keep forgetting how little you've been around. Of course you'd search things up... didn't come out of the box with all this nonsense installed."

"Technically I've never been in a box."

"Yet."

"I'm not sure what's that supposed to mean. Is this a joke about coffin?"

Hank laughed.

"What? No. Actually, I don't know what I was thinking. Probably just imagined you in a big cardboard box or something."

"Why would I be in a cardboard box?"

"I don't know, why would you be in a coffin?"

"I don't know, you said my body looks like a corpse in your living room."

"Connor, fuck...Do me a favour and shut the fuck up!"

The awkward silence filled the room. Once again Hank got painfully aware of the pile of sheets, but this time it looked more like an excuse than anything else. He rose from the bed and grabbed the pile on his way to the door. He was halfway through the threshold when he got stopped by the sound of his name. He froze.

"I won't say anything. Please, don't leave me alone in silence."

Hank felt a heavy knot forming in his stomach. He swallowed and turned back around.

"Of course not. Wasn't going to."

He returned to the bed to pick up the phone, then walked to the garage, loaded the washing machine, closed the door, and stared at it blankly. It seemed like he had forgotten something, but the silence-induced noise was too loud in his ears to remember whatever it was. He started the washing machine, gave it another glance, and returned to the bedroom where he collapsed onto the bed. After a few moments he realised that he had returned with his phone in his hand. He was squeezing it tightly, still. It had been quiet the entire time, and for a moment, Hank wondered if he could accidentally turn it off without even noticing. The thought sent a surge of panic down his spine, and he swiped his finger to unlock the phone. The screen lit up with CyberLife program still up and running. Thank god. He let out a sigh of relief and sank into the matress, setting the phone aside.

"Connor?"

There was no response.

Hank burried his face deeper into the pillow. He felt sick. Without meaning to, he accidentally remembered what it was he had forgotten -- aside from leaving the phone in the garage with a fan, which had been a rather conscious decision-- washing detergent. He hadn't used it at all.

"Connor," he tried again.

After a few seconds phone buzzed in response.

"Listen, you can talk if you want."

The room remained silent.

Hank turned to his side and unlocked the phone. He wasn't sure why, probably just to see CyberLife screen again, to make sure it was still there. He looked at it for a few seconds, then locked the phone back.

"I'm sorry" was what he meant to say. What he wanted to say. What he said instead was "Say something, damn it!"

It came out wrong. Agressive. Not the way he intended it, again.

"Goodnight, Hank," Connor said.

It was something. Sharp and short. Hank let another sigh out - both from frustration and relief.

"Goodnight, Connor."

[pyrriax]

hey tumblr i got completely distracted by something i will likely never think about again but i'm discovering things so it counts for. something?

obsidian vault stuff is a lot more work than you think it'll be when you're trying to work in things using css alone and all of the usual caption displaying methods don't play nicely with inline images </3

[its-always-nightshift]

This is the official design of Sun for my Theater AU!! I love him so much and I honestly need to draw him more. He’s so character.

Click for more information about the AU:

What is the Theater AU?

A fic currently in the works which takes canon Sun & Moon and plays with the concept of them being theater bots before being transferred (unwillingly) to the daycare! Half of the story revolves around when they were theater bots, and the other half is about the daycare. The drawing above is Sun when he was a theater bot! Sun in the daycare looks very close to canon in design with a few different details. And by theater, I mean they had some very cool acts. Moon has my favorite performance in the story so far.

Is there a y/n for the Theater AU?

No, you follow along the story of a nonbinary oc named Roy who dabbles in software engineering. You can, however, imagine that Roy is the pizzaplex’s nickname for y/n and pretend as such! Either way is fine by me, but the fic will be tagged as oc insert.

Have you written any chapters/made any art for the Theater AU yet?

Very few, but that’s only because I have to wait until summer to flesh it out properly. I do, however, have many bullet points for the storyline written down already as well as a couple of snippets and have a very good idea of how I want the fic to play out.

What kind of personality does Roy have?

Roy is a very down-to-earth, analytical, logic-oriented type of person. Roy has a lot of patience and I think Sun sometimes needs that kind of patience because of his jitteriness and overall bouncy personality. They’ve known the boys for a while and always took an interest in the way they work. They might even be the reason Roy went into software development and specialized in AI.

Can I use your art/writing for AI?

Absolutely not. That is not what AI should be used for. Thank you for your cooperation.

How technical will the fic be?

I want to mix my own experience as a computer scientist into the story a little while also making the explanations easy enough for anyone to enjoy and maybe find their own technical passion out of it. I will still mention some fun comp sci technical jargon for the purpose of enunciating Roy’s professionalism. On the robotics side, my own experience lacks, but I will try my best to get as accurate as I can by studying the canon boys.

Does Roy get to smooch the boys?

I’m still debating this, honestly! Maybe in some sequel story or side-comics, but the main fic is meant to focus on the characterization of Sun & Moon, so we’ll see. The boys can’t move their faces similarly to canon, but they would happily accept a smooch on the cheek.

Who do you like more, Sun or Moon?

Oh boy, I love them both! Moon is very scary and I’d never go back to that level in security breach if I can avoid it, but he makes for such a funky character full of potential storytelling. Sun is definitely my favorite of the two though. When I tell friends about a fic I’ve recently read from any of the fantastic DCA stories, I always ramble about how Sun’s character was written whether it was sunhinged, emotionally haunting, or absolutely sweet! When I played Help Wanted 2 I was overjoyed by his character. He deserves to be a little sassy sometimes, as a treat. It is no different in the Theater AU; he has his sassy and sweet moments.

Moon’s design I am still working on, so keep an eye out for him!! Also let me know if you take an interest in my boys by asking questions about them! It helps me find their personalities better and inspires me to do more. Thanks for reading!

[v1sexual]

dive | vi, arcane

drummer & hockey player! vi x reader

based on this request

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, loser lesbians, and author having no hockey knowledge

preface: a quick little blurb (its actually not quick and little) on how you and vi met.

note: okay omg i loved this idea sm thank u anon for this request! i do apologize if this is ass LMAO like all of my fics this was written at around 3am-7am 😔 anyways, should i make this into like a little series or smth also could not think of a title but i was listening to “dive” by ed sheeran while writing this so here we are.

you first met drummer and hockey player vi! during a year-end party on your freshman year of college. it was at a pub called “the last drop” that the student’s from zaun university claimed as theirs. hosting parties, celebrations, wins, and every little victory that they had during the school year at the said pub.

the last dropped was packed. a sea of sweaty bodies, filled every nook and cranny of the place.

you were getting antsy, tucked away in the corner of the booth you and your friends were sitting. as the night dragged on, one by one your friends left the table. some went to go get drinks, some went to socialize, and some went to go dance.

taking that as a sign to leave, you fished your phone from the back pocket of your jeans to text the group chat that you were heading home. but then the loud music stopped, and someone spoke into a mic.

you looked up from your phone, your gaze snapping to the massive stage at the other side of the dance floor. powder, another freshman whom you knew from one of your classes, spoke into the mic. she introduced their band, arcane, and that’s when you saw her.

dark pink hair cut short, she was rocking a black tank top showing her arms as the muscle flexed as she gripped her drumsticks.

“— and lastly we have my older sister vi playing the drums! you probably already knew her she’s pretty popular with the ladies, AND she’s single! but she’s pretty fucking gay though sorry boys.”

you zoned out after that, watching as the band started to play their rendition of a popular song that you couldn’t care less about. the sea of people blended in the background, you kept your eyes on vi watching her every movement in awe. the way she played kept you captivated you swore you could feel every beat of her drums, and then her eyes meets yours.

then she winked at you, her lips stretching into a smile as your heart stuttered against your chest. just as you were about to smile back your best-friend crashed next to you, her body slumping down against your side as she begged you to take her home. sighing, you obliged. you walked out the door supporting your friend’s body weight as much as you can and never looked back.

˚⁎⁺˳ . ⊹ ⋆ﾟ

weeks have passed and you’re back home, you still think about her though. you think about her a lot. you followed arcane’s official instagram account but never followed the members officially, except for powder of course since you two exchanged accounts when paired up for a project.

having nothing better to do, you decided to stalk the band’s instagram. watching reels of them doing song covers, playing pranks on each other, snippets of their original songs, etc.

just as you were about to doze off your door slammed open.

“(name)!!” your five year old sister, andie, shouts. “can you pleaseeee take me to hockey camp?”

you laughed, taking in the younger girl’s appearance. she was wearing full-on hockey gear, her hair in two braid, and she was clutching a duffel bag twice her size in one hand while the other held a hockey stick (that was seconds away from slipping and falling).

you stood up, taking the duffel bag from her, “i thought mom was taking you.”

“she was but i wanted you to go with me,” she shrugged and used her free hand to hold yours. “please?”

you swore your heart melted on sight. you loved your younger sister more than everything in the world, she’s got you wrapped around her little finger from the moment she was born. at first your parents were actually worried at the fifteen year age gap that you and andie had, but fortunately they were worried for nothing when you and your sister became attached to the hip.

“let me know how it goes okay?” your mom says as she kissed the two of you goodbye.

the drive to the rink was fast, only fifteen minutes. it honestly would have been only ten but andie pleaded for you to stop by your favorite café for a pastry and some strawberry lemonade, she was all pouty and batting her eyelashes so who were you to say no. when you arrived, you carried her duffel bag and hockey stick as she held on to the almost empty cup of strawberry lemonade.

andie led you to the locker rooms when she met up with her friends, they were such a cute bunch and you couldn’t help but snap a picture to send to your mom.

“can you help me put my skates on please?” andie asks, her small fingers tugging on your sweatshirt.

“of course you little gremlin,” you grinned and picked her up, setting her down on one of the benches. when you finished, andie hopped down the bench and waddled as she grabbed her hockey stick.

before you let her walk off, you grabbed her helmet and secured it onto her head. she thanked you with a hug then proceeds to hold your hand, dragging you out the locker room and into the rink.

“can you come with me (name)? im really nervous,” she whispered.

you nodded. “of course i will bub, plus i have to talk to your coaches.” andie cheers and hugs your leg as the two of you walked to the rink.

the rink was smaller than you remembered, you swore that it was at least two times bigger two years ago during your last figure skating competition. a smile forms on your lips as old memories began to resurface, if only you didn’t injure yourself then you would have probably still be skating.

“(name)! oh my god what’re you doing here?”

powder’s familiar voice brings you back to the present as she stood up from one of the seats.

“hey pow,” you greeted as she pulled you in for a hug. andie looks away shyly, her small frame hugged your leg as she hid behind you.

“aww, who’s this?” powder asked as she crouched down to andie’s height. your sister peeked at her then buries her face on your leg.

“this is andie, my younger sister.” you said. “say hi to powder ands.” andie detaches herself from your leg and whispered a small “hey”, before running off (more like waddling) when one of her friends called out to her.

you watched as your sister and her friend goes inside the rink with the help of one of her teammate’s parents. once she’s happily skating across the rink, you turned back to powder who dragged you to one of the seats.

the two of you engaged in small talk, asking how each other’s summer were going, the band, etc.

“so,” you started. “why are you here?”

“my sister vi is here! she’s helping coach the kids as a summer job.”

you short-circuited then turned your head to the side of the rink were the coaches are, then lo and behold there she is. violet lanes. she wore a black long sleeve compression shirt, white breezers, and her hair was in a low-bun. she held a clipboard, occasionally writing on it as she talked to the huddle of parents surrounding her.

while you were busy staring at vi, you don’t notice powder as her lips turn up into a shit-eating grin clearly noticing that you’re focus was on something else entirely.

“you should talk to her,” she says casually pulling you away from your thoughts.

“uhm what? no? why would i?” you rambled.

powder laughs at you, clearly entertained as you mutter under your breath. “well for starters she’ll need to talk you about practice schedules, you or your parent’s contact info,”

you let out a small “oh” before sinking back into your chair, holding your head in your hands embarrassed. this only makes powder laugh harder, the blue haired girl clutching her stomach and wiping away an invisible tear.

“oh god you have a crush on my sister!” she exclaims, you only groaned in response.

powder teases you for a good couple of minutes before settling down next to you.

“you know,” she starts. “you’re gonna have to actually talk to her right?”

“yeah i know,” you nodded.

powder hums. “want me to go with you? i can introduce you first, help break the ice?”

“huh, that’s actually not a bad idea.” you tell her. she then stands and pulled you up with her, powder link her arm with yours as she lead you to where vi was.

violet lets out a sigh of relief as the last parent walks off, practice hasn’t even started yet and she was already this tired from just talking to a whole crowd of anxious parents. she checks her clipboard again, eyes flicking through the names of the kids she’ll be coaching today.

“heyyy,” she heard powder call out. vi chose to ignore her sister and continued to check her clipboard, she then stumbles upon a name.

andie (last name).

vi knew that the kid was here, one of the other parent’s mentioned how sweet andie’s older sister was for always showing up to her extracurriculars especially when she was away for university and how she’d always drive the kid around no matter what.

“yo vi?” powder says but this time vi’s younger sister flicks the clipboard she held.

she groans, annoyed at her sister’s antics. “can you not? im busy pow, there’s this kid and i haven’t talked to her guardian yet and i can’t start without—“ your eyes meet and vi stopped talking, from that moment forward she knew she was a goner. she knew you, not personally of course, but she remembered that night from a couple of weeks ago when she first saw you at the last drop.

from the moment you entered her father’s pub, vi could not take her eyes off of you. she debated on wether or not to approach you but her nerves got the best of her so she stayed glued to her seat, pretending to listen to whatever her sister was saying.

“she doesn’t bite you know,” powder said pointing to your direction. “we were paired up for a project and she’s literally the sweetest person to ever exist, talk to her.”

“i don’t know,” vi shrugs and looked at her half empty glass, suddenly finding the half drunken liquor interesting. powder rolls her eyes and decided to talk to their other bandmates, leaving vi alone with her thoughts.

vi downs the rest of her liquor and decided to talk to you, but just as she was about to walk to where you were seated powder grabs her arm. “it’s showtime.” her sister says and violet tries her hardest not to pout as they walked backstage. she drowns the noise out as powder began talking into the mic, to introduce the band. during the time that they were playing she mostly kept her eyes closed or just looking at her drum set, focusing on hitting the right beats.

but then she looked at the crowd, eyes scanning the crowd for you. she wondered if you went home already or if you’ve left with someone or if you’re watching them perform, watching her perform. when vi finally spots you she felt her heart stutter when she found that you were already looking at her, then she winked at you. with a new found energy she played harder, eyes never leaving yours until she saw your friend (who was also powder’s friend) throw herself against you probably drunk out of her mind. vi didn’t take her eyes off you even when you helped steady your friend as the two of you attempted to leave the last drop.

vi thought about that night a lot, she wished she wasn’t such a pussy and approached you. but now you’re here, standing in front of her arms linked with her sister’s. vi opened her mouth and closed it, she didn’t know what to say.

“oh brother,” powder murmured under her breath. “vi this is (name), andie’s older sister.”

“huh?” vi responds which made powder roll her eyes for the millionth time.

“christ on a cracker, remember the kid whose guardian hasn’t talk to you yet? the one you were ranting about two minutes ago? well this is her. (name)’s her older sister and her guardian.”

vi let’s out a small “oh” which made you laugh a bit. “shit im sorry,” she tells you. “i’m just a bit distracted— nervous, i haven’t coached before.”

“oh don’t worry about it,” you smiled. “i’d be nervous too, kids are terrifying.”

as you and vi engaged in small talk, powder took that as a sign and quietly slipped away. she walked towards the side of the rink where ekko was rounding the kids up, she tapped on the glass and pointed to where you and vi were. ekko followed the direction where powder was pointing, he sent her a knowing smile and laughed.

“i didn’t know you play hockey?” you tell her, vi’s eyebrow twitched in amusement. “yeah im actually team captain of our uni’s hockey team.”

you looked at her, surprise and awe evident on your eyes. holy shit not only is she hot, ripped, tattooed, and a drummer, but she’s also the ding dang captain of your university’s hockey team? if you didn’t know you were gay you’d definitely know now.

“guess i’ll have to watch one of your games,” you shrugged. vi grins at you and nodded “guess you should.”

as the two of you talked the more comfortable you became with vi, “how do you manage that though? hockey, school, and the band?” you asked her to which she replied with a shrug.

“i don’t know either,”

you hummed in response as she glanced at her clipboard again. vi cleared her throat and began to discuss your sister’s practice schedule, safety concerns, gear, etc. you happily listened, nodding along and taking mental notes of important stuff you need to let your mom know when you get home.

vi finally looked up from her clipboard and smiled, “so yeah that’s pretty much it.” you replied with a nod.”

“will you be staying?” she asks you. “i mean uhm, are you going to wait for your sister?”

“yeah, im pretty much her chaperone so…” you replied with a smile, your gaze finding andie’s. your little sister waived at you, smiling from ear to ear as you waived back.

if vi wasn’t already smitten with you she definitely would be now as she watched the small exchange between you and your sister. vi has always been a family oriented person, she and her family were close (especially her and powder), and knowing that you were pretty much the same? you just got promoted from being a small crush to her literal ideal woman.

“so does that mean you’ll be dropping her off every practice?” she asks excitedly, which made you chuckle in response. “yeah,” you nodded. “our parents are pretty much swamped with work and my shifts are usually in the mornings sooo, yeah. i’ll be dropping her off and picking her up from practice.”

vi nodded, trying to act as normal as she can when in reality she’s mentally cheering. just as she was about to say something, ekko called out for her. and just like that vi remembered that she was actually supposed to be coaching and teaching the kids hockey.

“i need to help ekko out,” she says. “but uh— can i grab your number?”

“is this you shooting your shot at me or?” you joked. you swore vi’s cheeks became the same hue as her hair, she playfully rolled her eyes at you.

she huffed, “it’s for your sister’s contact information you dummy.”

“sure,” you replied, taking her pen and writing your number down next to your sister’s name in her clipboard.

vi smiles at you and began to head towards the rink, but just before she skated towards ekko and the kids she called out to you. “i lied, that was just me shooting your shot.”

you smiled at her, cheeks heating up. you watched as vi effortlessly skated, her posture and aura changing. watching her demonstrate how to play (with ekko’s help), sent butterflies to your stomach.

oh boy, you can’t wait to actually get to see her play.

note: this is literal ass im so sorry😔 i still hoped ya’ll enjoyed it though.

[fuckoffbard]

Sneak Peek: Remmick Fic

Y'all I haven't written in a long ass time, so this feels very unsteady, like trying to get the hang of riding a bike after a really long time. But I know some folks liked the Remmick x Reader idea I had. I'm starting out with a oneshot and this is just a little snippet from it as my way of offering up a down payment that shows y'all I'm good for the rest. I've always had a hard time writing 2nd person, but I love writing 3rd person where the 'she' could be anyone, so that's what I'm doing.

If you think Remmick's too soft, don't worry, this is just a snippet. I promise he gets much harder later on. I think I'm going to call this one shot "Last of the whiskey" once it's completed because I really vibed with the song of the same title by James Arthur (You can listen to it here). If you'd like to get a sense of where I'm going with the rest of the story. Okay. I'm going to stop rambling now, hope you guys like this little taste. 👅

“Darlin’....” He pushed himself off the doorframe he had been leaning against and knelt down beside her where she sat with her head in her hands. “Look at me,” he murmured, bending down further so he could angle his face upward to meet hers looking down.  She turned to meet his gaze, not bothering to hide the steady stream of tears. “Please,” she begged. “I’ve never asked you for anything.” He took her hand in his and placed a firm, but gentle, kiss on the back. He couldn’t help but smile. “Well that’s a lie if I ever heard one,” he chuckled. “I seem to recall you asking me to do that ‘thing’ with my tongue again just last night.” He managed to give the back of her hand one more quick kiss before she turned to smack his shoulder with her free hand. There she is, he thought. There’s my girl. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Now that he had broken the tension with a bit of levity a comfortable silence bloomed between them. Still holding her hand, he adjusted his body so he was nearly able to lay his head in her lap. After a few minutes of listening to her breathing even out and her heart rate return to a steady, calm rhythm he finally spoke, “When it comes time, I’ll do it.” Her body tensed and then relaxed with relief at his declaration. “But only when I say it’s time, do you understand?”  “Yes,” she breathed, what would have been barely audible to anyone else. “Can you trust me when I say I’ll know when the time is right?” He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across her hand, relishing in her softness. “Yes, Remmick. I trust you. You’ve never given me a reason not to.”  “Alrighty then, we’re agreed. Now stand up and let me carry my woman to bed, so I can do that ‘thing’ she asked for last night again.”  They moved to stand and before he could scoop her up in his arms he took one good hard look at her sly grin that told him for now, she was still the same fiery girl he broke all of his rules to fall in love with.

[acourtofchaos]

CRUEL SUMMER | camp counsellor!Sirius Black x F!Reader

summary: blue skies, summer sun, and your camp leader dropping one hell of a bomb on you before the gates have even opened. That boy you hate with every fibre of your being? You now have to spend the entire summer with him whilst he teaches you how to swim. Good luck!

CW: both reader and sirius are mean as fuck to each other, mild slutshaming, slightly jealous sirius, total enemies vibes for this part though they're clearly in denial about wanting to fuck each other. Word count: 2.3K

A/N: i plan on making this a full long fic bc i love the idea so much so this is basically just a little snippet for week one of the festivalofaus event 🖤

“Over my dead body.”

“Believe it or not, that is exactly what we're trying to avoid, hence the swimming lessons.” The look that camp co-leader Minerva Mcgonagall gave you at your petulant response was nothing short of terrifyingly stern. Bordering on withering and even, ever so slightly worse, disappointed.

You hated it.

The middle-aged woman had the kind of presence that demanded respect, the kind of sharp eyed, no nonsense look that made some of the younger kids a little scared to approach her and could rein in even the unruliest of her mismatched band of counsellors.

But she was a sweetheart deep down, protective of each and every one of the kids that passed through the camp entrance and just as fiercely proud of them whether they managed to swim the length of the lake and back or simply put together a s'more without setting the entire woods on fire.

In short, you adored her. This tight lipped woman who had been more of a maternal figure to you in your two seasons of camp than your mother had your entire life, and so that small glint of disappointment had made you instantly want to take the words back. To snatch them from existence with a chastised grimace and slightly warmed cheeks.

To say sorry faster than you ever had before.

And maybe you would have, if it wasn't for the boy slouched in the chair beside you.

Sirius Black was as much the bane of your existence as he was beautiful, dressed in light jeans and heavy boots, a black band shirt that had been cut up at the neck and the sleeves to show off more pale skin and the dark sprawl of his numerous tattoos. Silver chains glinting prettily from his neck and ornate rings adorning his slim fingers.

His hair had been thrown up into a bun that did nothing to diminish the wild look of him, instead the strands that had slipped free to frame his face made him look sharper. The contrast to them and his startling grey eyes enough to make him look ethereal, like he'd waltzed straight out of a fantasy book instead of the richest, most straight-laced part of the country.

He didn't look like the music tutor or senior lifeguard of a summer camp, he looked like a villain, a threat, and to make it worse he was fucking smirking behind the loose fist he had pressed to his mouth. Gaze bright with mirth as it flickered between your camp leader and the side of your face.

Looking far too much like he was enjoying your discomfort despite the fact that it meant he was also being forced into lessons with someone he couldn't stand.

So maybe that was why instead of apologising like you should have, you jabbed a thumb in his direction, refusing to look at the boy incase you lost your head completely, and scoffed. “Are you kidding me? He's more likely to be the one that kills me.”

Sirurs let out a huff at that, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, I would never.” He tsked, his voice a smooth drawl that made something crackle beneath your skin, taunting. “You're not worth the jail time, doll.”

You glared at him, lips parting with a fresh insult when he had the audacity to wink at you.

“You know what, Black–”

“Enough, both of you.” Mcgonagall interrupted sharply, levelling you both with another displeased stare over her glasses whilst she tapped the pen in her hand once, twice, against the clipboard before pointing it at you. “We're missing a lifeguard this year and you did put in your application that you were willing to fulfil any duty needed. That you would learn if need be.”

Shit, she had you there.

Still, you argued weakly. A little desperate though you would never admit it. “I did, and I will, I swear, but can't it be someone else who teaches me? Like Lily or even Barty.”

Mcgonagall shook her head.“Miss Evans’ schedule is busy enough as it is and Mr Crouch is far too easily distracted, you'll be learning how to turn the lake purple or how to cover it with foam again before you can float.” She muttered, a touch fond despite the antics of your chaotic friend. “Sirius is the senior lifeguard and the best option to train you quickly. We'll just have to make some adjustments to the schedules until then.”

“But–”

“Christ, just accept that we're stuck together so we can leave.” Sirius grumbled and you hated the way his eyes flashed when you turned to him, like he'd won the argument before it started just by capturing your attention after you'd tried so hard to ignore him. “What's the matter, scared we’ll spend a little time together and you'll fall in love with me?”

“In your dreams, Black.” You snarled, face hot and frustration churning in your chest as he laughed lowly, condescending, full of the kind of mischief you wanted absolutely no part of.

"How did you know?” He gasped, all faux scandalised horror, fingers pressed to his parted mouth before it widened into a slow, sharp grin. “Wanna know what else I've dreamt about? I'd tell you but Minnie here might have a heart attack.”

“You're a pig, I'd rather be eaten by a lake monst–”

“Enough!” Mcgonagall slammed the clipboard down on the desk with enough force to make both you and Sirius jump, guilty faces snapping towards her as she let out a too long sigh. Like camp had only just started and she was already done with the pair of you.

“Lesson's will be every morning at seven sharp until eight. They'll take place until you're ready to complete lifeguard training and will not end a moment sooner. No ifs or buts, now get out before I assign you to toilet cleaning duties for the entire summer."

And well, that was that.

****

Camp Marauder at seven am was almost mystical, definitely charming in a way that stirred something behind your ribs and warmed it up a little. It was all pale blue skies still tinged with the pink flush of dawn, hazy and soft, peaceful, whilst the world around it had yet to fully wake.

It had a soothing effect on your frazzled state from your lack of sleep, the anxiety clutching at your chest over how this morning would go, and you were quietly thankful to how it steadily made all the muscles in your body untense.

The grumpy frown pinching at your brow, softening just a little when you inhaled the forest air slowly and closed your eyes to the sounds of birds chirping, trees rustling in the wind. The gentle lull of the lake lapping against the shoreline.

There was the scent of the damp earth beneath your feet and woodsmoke clinging to the air despite the fire having died hours ago, the smell of warm pancakes and sizzling bacon floating from the open door of the food hall and when you took another breath, this one a little easier, it gave you that sense of home you craved enough to make that final bit of tension in your shoulders release.

You were still, however, utterly unimpressed with the ungodly hour.

The coffee in your hand didn't help matters, no matter how carefully it had been delivered by a sleepy-looking Evan, nor did the warm pastry placed softly into the other for good measure by Regulus, or the oversized shirt you were wrestled into by a too fretful Barty when he caught sight of the way you were shivering in the morning breeze in just your swimsuit as you joined them for a sneaky early breakfast.

Not that you didn't appreciate all of it, christ of course you did, it was just that nothing could stop your mood from souring whenever you remembered you'd be spending an hour alone with Sirius Black.

The dark-haired boy was already there by the time you eventually dragged your feet down to the lake. Gliding effortlessly through the water like it was second nature, strong arms propelling him with the kind of grace that had you stopping in your tracks and just watching, a little awed.

And then it was like the boy could sense there were eyes on him.

He stopped mid lap and turned, staring back at you just long enough for it to be painfully obvious that you had been caught admiring him, and then he was swimming back towards you with a speed that felt intimidating. Hair dripping lake water and pale skin glittering with the droplets that fell from the curling ends when he stood and made his way over.

He wore only a pair of black shorts, soaked and clinging to the lean muscles of his thighs, hanging low on his hips and– oh fuck, shit, jesus christ why were you staring? Look somewhere else.

Despite the nausea that you felt over whatever temporary insanity was clearly wreaking havoc with you, it felt harder than it should have.

Because as much as you hated it, Sirius wasn't exactly unattractive, pretty far from it if you were being begrudgingly honest. And if that wasn’t distracting enough, then the way his tattoos moved with the flex of his arms, his chest and his elegant hands, as he pushed his wet hair back certainly was.

God, what kind of nightmare was this.

You couldn't look away now, not when Sirius was staring right back at you, eyes boring into yours like he could see straight into your head and pluck out those insane thoughts to read at his leisure.

It would be a weakness, an admission of guilt, and like hell would you give him the delight of knowing he'd gotten to you in any capacity. Let alone that you'd been checking him out.

He'd be unbearable, more than he already was, and quite frankly, you would rather die.

So instead you muttered a quiet 'morning' that sounded more strangled than you would have liked, counting on his assumption that the tightness in your voice was just a terrible attempt at politeness, and then you promptly attempted to drown yourself early by knocking back your half-full coffee in one go.

Praying that afterwards, if your cheeks appeared as flushed as they felt then you could simply blame it on the hot liquid and the steam making you too warm.

But if Sirius noticed anything when you placed the cup down he didn't say anything.

Instead, his gaze lingered on the shirt that you were wearing when you straightened, the way the hem was only long enough to touch just above mid thigh and made it seem like you were wearing nothing else despite the fact he knew, rationally, there was a swimsuit beneath.

The way it made you look too different compared to the girl he teased constantly for not knowing how to be anything but an uptight priss, too wild with your mussed hair and bare legs and bare feet, the way it made you look too much like you belonged to the boy you called your best friend and something unusual twisted in Sirius’ stomach at the thought.

You arched a brow at his silence. The lack of response whilst the frown on his face grew, deepening until he was practically glaring and when he caught the slight squaring of your shoulders, like you were preparing for a fight, he unashamedly leapt on it like it was a lifeline.

“You're late.” He bit out, sounding petty even to his own ears but he stubbornly ignored it, aiming a sharp nod towards Barty's shirt. “Seven am sharp means you're in the water at seven, dollface, not the time that you drag yourself away from violating camp property with your boyfriend at.”

You made a noise in the back of your throat, a scathing, disbelieving thing that made Sirius bristle, but where he expected outrage and an argument, instead you narrowed your eyes at him. A vicious smile tugging at your lips.

“You sound bitter, what's the matter, Black? Everyone finally figured out what an insufferable git you are and now no one wants you?” You tutted mockingly, all faux sympathy and concern. “Maybe you could ask your brother for tips on how to not physically repulse people, you know, since it was him as well as Barty I was with this morning.”

Was it a low blow? Undoubtedly.

But it had the desired effect, and you would apologise later to Reg for drawing him into the line of fire.

For now though, you relished the way Sirius’ eyes flared, the way his jaw clenched, a muscle fluttering beneath his skin at the mention of your closeness to his brother, and god, the victory singing in your chest was exquisite when he tore his stare away to glare across the lake and grumbled something unintelligible.

“What was that?” You asked innocently. “Oh you wanted to know that Evan was there too? Wow, what a busy morning I've had already, no wonder I was la–”

“I said, just get in the fucking water.”

You stifled a laugh and made your way to the lake’s edge, only wincing slightly when a couple of small twigs dug into your feet. But then it was Sirius’ turn to be smug when you seemingly stopped out of nowhere, toes just barely touching the water and going no further as you hesitated.

“What's the matter?” He called out as he passed, pressing a little too close so his chilly skin brushed against yours just to rile you up. He stepped into the lake before you could swat at him, wading in waist deep then turning to you with a crude, wolfish grin. “Scared of getting wet?”

Your eyes flickered up from the water, cold and cutting. “Never had to worry about that around you before, rockstar wannabe, never will.”

Sirius glowered at you, a sneer curling at his lips like he was about to argue, like he was gathering venom to hurl back at you, but then it all morphed. Grey eyes full of challenge and his tongue pressed to his cheek to wrestle back a grin.

“Yeah? Well c'mon then, doll, I don't bite.”

Call it self-preservation, or more than reasonable paranoia, but you didn't believe that was true for a second.

[pmpmyread]

Okay. I can’t hold back anymore, I must share this FANTASTIC commission crafted by the amazing @aliasnnmknt!!

A couple of weeks ago, I reached out to Teri to see if she could help me bring an idea to life. This was the first time I’d ever commissioned an idea including an original character/MC, and watching Teri turn my scattered descriptions and references into the EXACT vision I had for this character was like witnessing magic. And we all know Teri’s depictions of Nanami are always A1 (and if you don’t know, you must check out her page, yesterday lol).

The level of detail she managed to incorporate in this is truly incredible, from the braids and the charms, to the sheet music, to the specific vinyl LPs! The mood captured here, in the facial expressions, in the posture and overall body language is immaculate and so true to what I wanted to convey.

I feel so blessed to have been able to collaborate with such a talented artist and to add such a wonderful illustration to this little idea that has been trotting in my mind for a while. I keep staring at it in awe and I am using it as fuel as I put the finishing touches to this story.

Working on this was such a delight, Teri is so kind, patient and incredibly quick! Thank you @aliasnnmknt, for taking my request and for crafting such a lovely piece! Anyone reading this, run, don’t walk to her blog — she delivers banger after banger after banger!

This concept is based on an upcoming Nanami x Reader fic of mine titled Syncopation. It’s a story that tackles themes that are so meaningful to me, such as combatting stifled creativity, finding purpose in life, and learning to accept love, and it’s all set against a backdrop of modal jazz music as a genre.

I’ll be posting it in the upcoming days, in the meantime, I’ve put a snippet below, if you’d like a sneak peek:

If you made it this far, thanks for reading and I hope that you'll enjoy the full story! Now go follow the wonderful @aliasnnmknt!