#so nothing is finalized and the handwriting is atrocious

[tulikettuun]

I’ve been working on an LoZ/LU comic based on some music lyrics and with zero other context besides that I’m going to post tonight’s very messy page thumbnail sketch that I’m pretty proud of.

[byte-your-tongue]

How They Wrap Your Presents Pt. 1 (Obey Me! SWD Brothers)

(Platonic, GN Reader)

AN: Recently got access to my old obswd account after over two years of not being able to play!! ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ im excited about that + the holidays so here yall go take some sill lil hcs. these are pretty christmas focused but if anyone wants an edited version where i remove that and make it more generic what holiday is being talked about just let me know! part two with the other characters will hopefully be up soon!

Lucifer:

His presents look neat but maybe a little bit boring compared to some of the others on this list

They are tastefully wrapped in a simple solid color metallic wrapping paper with no ribbon.

He wouldn't pick out a wrapping paper with a pattern because he thinks it looks sort of silly or childish or "too much"

He doesn't use sticker labels, instead attaching a small piece of paper or card with his elegant cursive handwriting on it addressing it to you from him.

He will leave your present under the tree in the HOL and look on with pride when you open it christmas day.

He may get onto you if you try to shake it to figure out what it is early, telling you to be patient and that it will be worth the wait.

Mammon:

He could have taken the easy way out and put your presents in a bag but he wants to wrap them himself.

This of course leads to a disaster with wrapping paper scraps everywhere and him covered in tape. He probably also somehow manages to cut himself with the scissors at one point.

Your present may look like a disaster but it's wrapped with love.

Sure he could have asked someone like Asmo to help him out but he selfishly wanted the present to be only from him alone, with no one else helping him.

He would probably pick out a very basic pattern like snowflakes or something.

He doesn't put a tag on it (which is probably for the best, his handwriting is atrocious)

He's sort of embarrassed of how it turned out and doesn't put it under the tree before christmas, choosing instead to hand it to you directly on christmas morning.

If you tell him you like the wrapping despite how it looks he will be over the moon and blushing like a tomato.

Mammon is overjoyed to see you so happy because of him, and commits this moment to memory forever.

Leviathan:

I don't think he would be very confident in his wrapping skills, instead choosing to give you a gift bag instead.

Plus it's just easier that way! No fiddling with wrapping paper and tape.

It's not like a gift bag is an any way less good than a wrapped present, but after seeing Asmo's gorgeous gift to you sitting under the tree he gets worried you won't like his.

So he decides to customize the bag for you, drawing your favorite character on it.

He puts your gift inside, adds some simple tissue paper, and adds it to the small pile of gifts already under the tree.

On christmas day when you finally open his gift he's anxious you won't like it. When you beam at him and tell him you love it and compliment the drawing on the bag he feels like he could pass out from joy.

Satan:

Satan for sure is going to make your gift look good.

He is careful and meticulous with the wrapping, not an inch out of place with perfect folds.

He might pick out a simple pattern that just has holiday colors on it. Nothing too intense but still festive.

He is the first one i've talked about so far who would add a ribbon. Something thin and shiny wrapped across both axis of the present and tied up with perfect curls.

He adds a simple tag that has your and his names on it in neat print.

He will add his present to the pile, admiring the other ones already there.

When you finally get his present you almost don't want to open it, admiring how it looks.

He will be happy if you like his gift, smiling warmly at you.

Asmodeus:

You KNOW Asmo is going all out on wrapping your presents.

Your present is wrapped in the most adorable sparkly paper he could find and topped with a big bow and ribbons.

Your presents from him are very cute without being over the top.

He is very excited for the holidays, picking out your presents and wrapping them before anyone else had even found anything for you.

He spends a lot of time wrapping your presents perfectly and making sure not a single piece of ribbon is out of place.

Beelzebub:

He doesn't really know what do so he goes to Asmo for help. Beel is one of the only people here who doesn't mind asking for help, and he knows Asmo would be perfect for this.

Beel picks out the paper and gets Asmo to help him wrap it so of course it comes out cute looking.

The first paper Beel wanted to use had a cute little pattern with gingerbread men on it, but he did in fact eat some of the paper while Asmo was trying to wrap.

After that the two of them decided another choice of wrapping paper might be better if they want your gift to survive.

Beel adds a sticker to it that addresses the gift to you from him and places it under the tree.

Belphegor:

Belphie is NOT wrapping your present.

He's not even putting in in a gift bag.

The bare minimum he would do is slap a simple bow on it and calls it done.

Since your present isn't wrapped he doesn't put it under the tree, instead waiting till christmas and giving it to you directly.

He may not have put a lot of thought into the wrapping, but he did put a lot of time and effort into picking out your present so he really hopes you like it.

[ushsblog]

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

I wanted to write something about Cedlock for this day, but I didn't finish it lol. Anyway, I'm leaving this abstract of what I've written.

One of your admirers

[...]

Unfortunately, the hallways were more of the same, crowds of students moving between classrooms, chattering about their plans. Cedric was fed up. It was just another Wednesday, in just another week, leading up to just another simple Friday. What was the big deal? Not one he was willing to acknowledge out loud. The thought made him grumble as he quickened his pace down the corridor.

Alone amidst the crowd, he made his way to the lockers, muttering his password begrudgingly and stepping back as the door magically opened at his command. Before he could fully react, a book slipped out from the mess of his belongings, landing clumsily in his hands in a poor attempt to catch it.

Cedric furrowed his brows in confusion as he stopped to look at the book in question. It was one he had lost days ago, one he had searched for endlessly in his room, in the classrooms where he thought he might have left it, only to find no trace of it. He was almost sure he had checked his locker multiple times without seeing it there either. And yet, here it was. A slip of bright paper peeked out from its pages, one he didn’t recognize.

As he pulled the paper free, he realized it was actually an envelope. The only indication on it was a "For Cedric" written in black ink with an atrocious handwriting on the front. No sender, no other clues. The young man stared at the envelope for a moment, perplexed.

It wasn’t the first time a surprise had awaited him in his locker, though usually, those surprises involved some sort of explosion or unpleasant trick meant to annoy him. Receiving a letter was… new.

For a moment, Cedric considered ignoring it and tossing it away immediately, well aware of the endless ways an envelope could be enchanted. However, he couldn’t shake the odd curiosity that tugged at him, even if he was certain it was some kind of trick. At the very least, he had to admit that an envelope was a more creative choice than a simple hex.

Leaving the book in his locker, he took the letter in his hands and prepared to open it. He stretched his arms out, holding it as far from his body as possible, turned the envelope away from himself, and carefully lifted the flap. His teeth clenched, and his eyes squinted slightly in anticipation.

Nothing happened. No ink explosion, no other disaster his mind had conjured in the brief seconds it took to open it. That was good. With that concern ruled out, he pulled out the letter inside and read:

I’ve been watching you for a while now. You probably haven’t noticed.

The words pulled him out of himself for a second, leaving him with a creeping paranoia that made him lift his gaze from the paper and glance around cautiously. There were just some girls at the lockers beside him, retrieving their own things and a group of friends passing by. None of them, as usual, even spared him a glance. The strange sense of unease in his chest did not fade. Restless, he continued reading.

No, in fact, I know for sure that you haven’t noticed. You’re quite cluless, to be honest. You leave your things behind without even realizing it. I hope you’re relived to finally have your book back. You left it in the library, mixing it with the others books without noticing. You’re so oblivius that you didn’t even realize all the times I tried to aproach you.

After rolling his eyes at the spelling mistakes, Cedric frowned. Right. He hadn’t checked the library. That made him feel stupid, and he almost felt annoyed by the scolding tone of the writer, until, as he read the chilling words, he realized something unsettling. Someone had opened his locker. A letter could be slipped through the vents of a locker door, but a book? Unless this person was a master of advanced teleportation spells, that meant they had somehow gotten inside his locker.

Sometimes you seem so detached from the world around you, walking around without truly noticing others. You don’t realize there’s someone there, watching you, waiting.

The alertness in his chest tightened into something heavier. What kind of joke was this? Or was it some kind of threat? At the bottom of the letter, in smaller handwriting, it was signed:

Sincerly, one of your admirers.

He might have laughed if he weren’t so alarmed. Was this supposed to be a joke? Admirers. Sure. He had so many he couldn’t even count them. He thought bitterly.

Looking over it again, he confirmed that neither the envelope nor the letter bore any clue as to its author, aside from the strangely familiar handwriting covering the page.

Not knowing what else to do with it, Cedric grabbed his book and left the letter inside the locker, taking a few more things he needed. Dismissing it as some kind of joke he didn’t quite understand, he decided he could deal with it later, once he figured out what exactly the words were meant to say.

—

Hshshsh, I hope to finish it soon

[blondiest]

The year is 2009. The month? August. The day...? I'm so glad you asked. It's the 24th. Birthday of the specialest boy in the whole world (Near. Obviously.)

Near HIMSELF doesn't actually do anything for it, sadly. He's on that grind working with the SPK. No time. Although maybe he makes Rester go pick up a fancy lego set he's had his eyes on for a while. Still, he doesn't actually celebrate — no one there knows it's his birthday, and that's how he would prefer it. He doesn't want anyone to fuss.

HOWEVER. Across the country. In the state of California. In the city of Los Angeles. Sitting on a zebra-print couch inside a highly secret mafia base. Mello is acutely aware that it's Near's birthday. And he's annoyed as all fuck that he's acutely aware of it. Near probably doesn't remember when it's HIS birthday, and he doesn't WANT to remember that it's Near's birthday, but here he is, remembering that it's Near's goddamn birthday.

Still, he's busy, too. All his mafia shit. Collecting evidence (and stealing it from Near through Ratt). Et cetera et cetera. So he manages to keep his mind off of it. For the most part, anyway. But then eventually it gets kinda late, and he's done the things that he can do for the day, so he's about to head back to his apartment. But one of the mafia guys invites him to drink with them.

Normally he says no. Mostly because he doesn't really want to be intoxicated / compromised in front of people that he doesn't really want to have info on him. However. Going back to his apartment alone sounds kind of wretched. So this time he joins them. Except Mello has an absolutely terrible understanding of his own limits / tolerance level so he gets completely blackout drunk :/

I'm imagining he has, like, a place he sleeps in the mafia base sometimes when he doesn't feel like driving back to his apartment (like if he stays late enough that there's not a point). So he wakes up. Horrible hangover. Wretched. He tries to remember the events of the night before; nothing past his third drink (<- a lightweight). He checks his cell phone; he made three calls to Ratt, two of which lasted less than ten seconds and the third of which lasted two minutes. This immediately sets off alarm bells in his head. He's panicking.

So Mello gets dressed and drags himself out of his shitty little makeshift bedroom and starts subtly asking around for what happened the night before. Several of the men are super evasive about it, but after a few well-placed threats, someone finally reveals that he disappeared for thirty minutes and came back with a box that he INSISTED needed to go to the post office first thing in the morning.

Huge wave of cold dread. He asks if the box has already been mailed. The guy is like. Well. Yeah. It's one in the afternoon. You told us to ship it first thing. So it's gone.

Mello is in shambles over this. He starts frantically searching his little makeshift bedroom for clues of what the hell he might have sent Near. In the garbage can he finds a crumpled-up and half-legible lovehate letter. He can't read all of it— some of the handwriting is atrociously messy, other parts a bit smeared— but what he can make out is damning. There are, like, three full sentences about Near's eyes. One of the sentences describes them as "bug-like," which isn't so embarrassing for him, but the other two use words like "captivating" and "enigmatic" and, bafflingly, "celestial."

((a bit ns // fw [not explicit, just suggestive] under the cut))

In addition to waxing poetic about Near's appearance, there's an entire paragraph of him speculating on what Near would be like in bed (the words "clumsy" and "squeaky" and "lousy" all make appearances). That's not great— he doesn't really want to sexually harass / insult his lifelong rival via snail mail, regardless of how celestial his eyes are— but the next paragraph is worse.

Paragraph is a generous description— it's just one very long run on sentence. Don't worry though it's okay you're a weird awkward virgin who would give really bad head I still love you think you're cute and youcould probably learn because I could teach you stuff and as long as you listen to me you'll be fine <- only HALF of the sentence from hell.

Anyways. For a second he's like well, it's here in the trash, so I guess I didn't send it, but it pretty much immediately occurs to him that the one in the trash was a draft, because notably something still did get sent to Near. It's weird that he used a box, but then, he was pretty fucking drunk, and he probably just used whatever was lying around. He goes through the five stages of grief plus three secret additional stages (which are all just him screaming into a pillow, but with varying degrees of anguish / rage / mortification) and then just. Hopes that the letter gets lost in the mail. Tries to forget about the whole thing. Moves on with his life.

A week later, in New York City, Rester brings a package to Near. They don't get packages— anything they receive from the US Government is hand-delivered by someone with clearance, and they always have a heads-up that someone's coming. The box has already been opened— Rester had someone screen it first, had it scanned via x-ray and then opened by someone dressed in head-to-toe biohazard gear in case there was anthrax inside. There wasn't. Rester tells him there's no return address and no name of the sender. Inside the box is a single disposable camera.

Near immediately knows that there is no one it could be from but Mello— no one else who could have figured out where he was. It looks like Mello's handwriting on the box, too, though it's honestly pretty messy, even for him. He doesn't know what could be on the camera, but he presumes it's got to be sensitive information.

He tells Rester he needs the film developed. Emphasizes how important the contents of the camera are to him. It's essential that not a single photo is lost. Rester nods, disappears. Comes back like five hours later with an expression of subdued bemusement. Hands Near an envelope with the photos in it. Looks like he's going to say something, but doesn't. Leaves.

Near opens the envelope. Inside are 30 separate photos of Mello. Most of them don't show any of his face. All of them were taken with flash on. All in front of a mirror.

All shirtless.

He puts the photos back in the envelope and tucks the envelope into his shirt and goes back to work. His face feels hot for a long time after. Distantly he feels disappointed that he can't ask Mello why he went to all the trouble of tracking Near down just to send something like that, but he can't ask his employees to spend their time trying to track Mello down in return for such a trivial personal matter.

Things proceed more or less as they do in canon. Mello kidnaps the NPA director, then Sayu, gets the notebook, kills Ratt and several more members of the SPK, loses the notebook, blows up the mafia base, drags his burnt-to-a-crisp ass to New York, finds Halle. He wants to ask her if Near got a letter a few months back, but he decides against it, because he doesn't want to show his hand. After all, there's a chance it got lost in the mail, or a chance he didn't sign it (though Near would undoubtedly recognize the sender as Mello just by the contents of the letter, and the fact that the letter reached him at all). He's trying to hold onto the possibility that he did not, in fact, send a deranged, multi-page, sexually explicit and obsessive letter to Near. He has to hold onto that hope.

Except when he goes to get the photo he left at the orphanage from Near, there's a weird vibe. A vibe that he can't help but feel is unrelated to him holding Halle at gunpoint and also pointing his gun at Near. The blonde guy that works for Near is giving him an especially judgmental look. Mello gets his photo and gives Near a bit of info and gets the fuck out, but he's haunted for the rest of the day by the knowledge that yes, Near totally got that fucking letter.

So he writes another letter. Makes it EXTREMELY clear that all of the things he said about Near's eyes being captivating and celestial were JOKES, and that he DOESN'T want to fuck Near and is not in love with him. Gives the letter to Halle to give to Near with express instructions not to open it herself. She agrees, takes it to Near.

Near opens the letter from Mello. Right off the bat, he's confused, because this letter mentions a previous letter, and Near never got a previous letter. The box only had the disposable camera in it. That was it. As he continues reading, the bafflement only increases.

By the end of the letter, Near's mind is scrambled, but he has little doubt what he needs to do.

He asks Halle to call Mello and ask him to come back to headquarters. They have some things to talk about.

sorry this is left open ended i simply don't feel like finishing it. please just assume they work things out and fuck nasty. thanks 🥰

[ikemenfanfiction]

Sasuke: Mini Story

1 of 3 “You’re Irresistible” Mini-Stories (Feb 2020) Masterlist Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Featuring: You (MC) & Sasuke (fluff). Based in a Sengoku AU where you are already dating one of the featured characters. Synopsis: When your day goes wrong how will your lover help you remember that he will always find you irresistible? Disclaimer: All Ikemen Sengoku Characters are the rightful property of Cybird and I do not claim them as my own. WARNINGS: none

INTRODUCTION: You couldn’t help sighing as once again war council finished and you felt you had nothing to contribute. Why did Nobunaga even ask you to be here? As Chatelaine you were supposed to assist the residents of Azuchi Castle as best you could. Yet outside of delivering the mail you sometimes felt completely useless. Sure, Mitsunari was helping you with your reading and you were attempting to write in a manner closer to “Sengoku Style.” Still, that was taking much longer than you had hoped and most of your efforts to make notes of what happened in war council were still more humorous than helpful. Masamune and Mitsuhide had nearly laughed their heads off the last time they snatched your proffered notes out of Ranmaru’s hands before he could make suggestions. Nobunaga’s page had been quite speechless when he thought it was a shopping list not “The council minutes” from the meeting you’d just been in. With the discouragement weighing you down you gathered your things and headed for the door—not expecting a certain someone to intervene. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (Continue with Nobunaga) (Continue with Masamune)

Sasuke: “Are you feeling all right?” Hideyoshi’s voice broke through your concentration and you looked up to find his concerned golden eyes on you. “S-sure. Why wouldn’t I be all right?” You ask trying to sound convincing. “You don’t seem quite yourself today. I was wondering if you were feeling unwell?”

“No, I promise I’m just fine Hideyoshi. There is just a lot for everyone to do and I should probably go get started.” “Were you still going into the market today?” He asked before you manage to get very far. “I was. I just received another sewing commission yesterday and I don’t quite have everything I need for it.” You admit hesitantly. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to pick up a few things for me then? I don’t quite have time to get to it but—” He handed you a short list which you glanced over. Was this just a ruse to make you feel helpful? Everything on the list were items you could find easily enough but Hideyoshi usually kept most of these things on hand. At your cynical look Hideyoshi’s expression turns a little sheepish. Finally he admitted, “Okay… you see I asked Mitsunari to go shopping for me earlier this week and it ended up being a bit of a disaster. I’m too busy to go myself just now but frankly the tea he selected is especially atrocious. Could you please pick some up for me so I can stand to get through tea ceremony today? It would mean a great deal to me.” You almost burst out laughing at his pleading expression but somehow manage not to. “Of course. I’d be glad to pick these up for you Hideyoshi. Are you certain there isn’t anything you need to add?” “I think that will do for now but thank you!” The relief on Hideyoshi’s face was almost comical but you manage to hold back your amusement as you head back to your room to get your things. As you recheck the sewing items you will need to purchase you notice something unusual in your basket. It seems to be a… an invitation of some kind? You open it to find a short note from your favorite person in the entire Sengoku Period. “I miss you. If you can get away a certain ceiling ninja would like to have lunch with you.” It wasn’t signed but you easily recognize Sasuke’s handwriting. Yet you couldn’t help wondering when exactly he had left it among your things. With extra enthusiasm you hurry to finish getting ready to leave for the market. You turn onto the street where Yuki usually has his booth thinking that is the most likely place to discover your ninja-boyfriend. Yet suddenly the bag you were carrying seems to have disappeared and you pause to look around in confusion. Behind you is a rather suave looking civilian leaning casually against a wall as he cleans his glasses.

“Sasuke?” You say as you realize your bag is slung casually over his shoulder. “Your bag looked a little heavy this morning. I figured I’d help you out.” He said replacing his glasses making them flash in the afternoon light as he tilted them just so. Did he have to make your heart jump like that? “Thank you! I got your note! I was a little sad I wasn’t there when you dropped it off.” “Oh, you were there. You just happened to be sound asleep by the time I dropped in.” He brushed a wayward strand of hair behind your ear while his beautiful brown eyes seemed to be taking in every detail of your face. How long had he been away? Three days? It somehow felt like a month! “Why didn’t you wake me?” You ask feeling extra disappointed that he would simply let you sleep. “It was closer to morning than my normal visits. Work kept me out quite a bit longer than usual.” The regret in his voice made you reach for his hand. As he laced his fingers with yours the remorse in your heart faded to a happy warmth. “Promise next time to wake me? I don’t like finding out I was so close to being able to see you then I didn’t get to.” He suddenly leaned in close and brushed a quick kiss against your cheek. “The problem isn’t with you seeing me. The problem is I won’t want to leave the moment you do.” “Sasuke.” You breath his name softly. “Come one there’s a tea shop I really want you to try.” Once you had your tea—and the sweets Sasuke inevitably ordered for you along with it—he began asking how things were going with work. You explained how you needed to pick up a few things for your latest commission in the market. Once you mention Hideyoshi’s list, however, Sasuke’s enthusiastic questions began to overtake the conversation. You find yourself laughing as you share what tea Hideyoshi asked for and how entertaining it was to hear him complain about the tea he’d been forced to use lately due to Mitsunari’s unfortunate shopping adventure. “Sometimes I get so envious of you (YN).” Sasuke confides. “You get to hear them discuss things in war council and see them interact. It’s so amazing I can hardly stand it sometimes.” It didn’t take long for you to discover that your boyfriend was the ultimate Sengoku Period fanboy. All personal information about the Oda warlords was considered absolutely fascinating. “Nah it’s not really amazing. You being a more than moderately awesome ninja is way more amazing than anything I do as Azuchi’s Chatelaine.” You shrug trying not to allow the gloom that hung over you that morning ruin your time with your boyfriend. “I’m sure you make such a difference Sasuke. If anyone should be jealous it should be me.” His hand captures yours and in an instant he draws it to his lips. He presses a tender kiss to your palm before closing your fingers around it then enclosing your hand in both of his. “Sasuke?”

“I don’t like that sad look in your eyes. So I wanted you to keep this with you in case you need a reminder that I love you.” You blink at him as you find your eyes burning with emotion. “I… thank you Sasuke. I know you love me, but thank you.” You offer him a smile that’s as warm as you can summon. “Why do you feel that way about being Chatelaine?” He asks gently. He allows you to extract your hand so you can finish your tea. You take a quick sip before trying to explain, “I think I was just feeling a bit discouraged this morning. I feel like I don’t really contribute anything to the council. I’ve been trying to take notes but the last time I showed those to anyone was completely embarrassing.” You go on to tell him about Mitsuhide and Masamune’s comments and how useless you feel. He listens attentively as you explain your struggle to feel like you are making any difference at all as Chatelain. “When Hideyoshi gave me that list today I almost thought it was just… well… It felt like he was just trying to cheer me up by asking me to do something for him. I almost said as much before he admitted what happened with Mitsunari.” “(YN) do you have any idea how much of a disaster it would be if I tried to finish that sewing commission for you?” Sasuke asked capturing your hand and placing it palm down on the table. He then began tracing his finger over the sensitive skin at your wrist then up each finger and back again as though studying every contour. “I don’t know. You seem pretty great at adapting to whatever the situation demands, Sasuke. Are you trying to steal away my seamstress mojo?” “Trust me, no. In fact while I might manage to sew something together—emphasizing the ambiguity of that term—the result would be far from fashionable in any sense of the word.” You can’t help laughing a little. “What do you think Masamune would say to Mitsunari if he decided to become Azuchi’s head cook?” Sasuke asked continuing to stroke your hand affectionately. “Oh! He wouldn’t even make it to the kitchen before Masamune would intervene!” You laugh. “Right, because that isn’t Mitsunari’s strength. Just like sewing isn’t mine.” You hesitantly meet his eyes. You understood what he was trying to say yet you still couldn’t quite banish the disappointed feeling. You wanted to do more to help out yet everything you tried had been far from effective. “So what is your strength?” Sasuke asked finally wrapping the warmth of his hand around the one of yours he had been thoroughly teasing. “I don’t know.” You admit softly. “Sewing I guess? Managing to deliver mail to the right person?” You shrug.

“What about some of my favorites? Your ability to brighten a room with that smile for example?” “Sasuke.” You whisper as embarrassment makes your ears burn. “Or there’s the ability you have to care about other people. That’s one of the things that most qualifies you to be Azuchi’s Chatelaine… at least in your boyfriend’s opinion.” Suddenly you pull his hand toward you, and imitating his earlier actions place a heated kiss into his palm before curling his fingers around it. “What was that for?” You’d never heard his voice waver quite like that before and somehow you couldn’t quite bring yourself to meet his gaze. “I wanted you to have it. So, no matter where you are you remember you’re the person I love the most in this entire world.” Suddenly Sasuke was gone. You blinked for a minute and looked around the shop only to find him urgently paying the bill. He came back and without a word took your hand and let you out of the shop. “Sasuke?” You ask hurrying to keep up with his pace. You barely register that you’ve reached the shadows of a building before he pulls you into his arms and kisses you fiercely. “Sasuke—” You gasp in between kisses as he holds you tenderly in his arms. “You were right.” He murmurs stealing another kiss. “I should have woke you this morning. You’re too irresistible to take out into public like this. I needed to be alone with you first.” Eventually his kisses slow and he leans his forehead against yours. “Let’s discuss this further in private.” He suggests as his breathing eases to a normal rhythm, “But right now I think you have some shopping to do?” You nod smiling up at him brightly as he leads you back into the marketplace.

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: screenshots of reblogs on this post.

Images in the first reblog:

moregaythanyourealized: i was at an antique store in Austria once and when I went to check out they guy was like "Oh, that was my wife's. Oh well, she'll be okay without it!" I felt a little guilty]

[takk: #bought a ceramic seal at an antique store and the woman at the counter said 'do you know what this is?' and i said 'a seal?' and she said #nothing else]

[vintagegarf: #this has happened to me multiple times #I tried to buy a lamp they were using for light that got unplugged #they let me buy it but i had to haggle for a bit]

[tackyflamingosarah: I was in a local used bookstore once and they had an original finalized script for The Breakfast Club. That was pretty cool to see. Still have no idea where they got it from]

[shakespearerants: #ahahaha throwback to the one time I went into THEE most expensive antique store in the city to ask about a ring that was haunting me #and the about 90 year old sales lady a. didn't recognize the peice b. immediately told me if she'd have seen it earlier she would've kept i #for herself c. turned the tag around and was surprised to find a price in her own handwriting d. deduced I don't have a job by my manicured #for-once hands e. offered me a 100€ discount because she liked my vibes f. immediately invited me to come to her property and meet her #horses after I expressed the slightest interest. when I say property I mean castle with grounds. when I say horses I mean own private stud. #OH YEAH and this whole interaction started with her wanting to throw me out of the store as soon as I walked through the door bc she had a #private client coming in 10 minutes. #vladi speaks]

[cosmic-courtroom: #me when i find radioactive glass in some random persons booth and it's just labelled 'green glass $2.50' like. #stares. girl. and the owners of the store see my blacklight in hand and go 'oh so is it [uranium/depression] glass??' and i flash it with #light and sometimes it's the brightest shit they've seen like. Hey That's a Really High U Concentration Actually.]

[agdab: #this was how i got a cursed ring #i had to bury it in a graveyard to get rid of it]

[chikinan: #still thinking about the cow fetus]

[horneboy: #omfg no i got a 60s soviet union biscuit tin from a vintage shop #and the guy was like wtf whats this never seen it before #and i was like it's your shop blud]

[thirdchoiceurl: #love when they ask why I picked something out and I get to tell them about all the uranium they have]

[Images in the second reblog:

abyssalterrors: #me w my collectible nsync marionnete puppets #jt i WILL find you]

[therebloger22: #the employee going i don't think we have postcards cause postcard lady hasn't been in lately and then here i come with postcards]

[ghostphy: #i once tried to buy a little Pikachu figure from a thrift store #and they would NOT sell it to me #because they were convinced it wasn't from the store #so they just took it and kept it #like. ok]

[phi-says-bullshit: One was at an antique store, he asked "where did you find this?" I said, in a bucket marked a dollar? And he gave me a handful of things from the bucket for free. What a score]

[tinygreenbug: #one time i bought an atrocious lamp because it was only $4 and i thought it was funny and she went 'oh thank god']

[chrono-of-june: #me: waltzes up to the counter with a pink frilly parasol and a gruff also plush #*gruffalo #the lady there: ?????]

[mothmanns: #one time i found a little ceramic piggie at the antique store #not my first but one of the early ones #and i fell in love with him instabtly even though he is missing an ear #and i took him up to the counter and said 'i know hes broken but i love him so much' and the owner smiled at me #and she said 'he was broken when he got here but i kept him because i knew someone special would want to take him home' #and she gave him to me for free and also i cried #im looking at him rn !!!]

[speakingofdoorknobs: #I once found an autographed photo of the Professor from Gilligan's Island at an antique store #yes of course I bought it how could I not?]

[bubsu: #i went to an antique store with a basement and nothing had price tags #also you could only access stuff on the perimeter of the absolute pile of stuff #i took a pic of chairs i wanted and the guy was like oh yeah i remember those i sold them and then bought them back #couldnt buy them lest i find him in my apartment taking his chairs back in the middle of the night #also they were $400]

[stan-pines-mullet: contrary to mom n pop thrift stores, where you can go to the deepest corner of the shop, find a tunnel created by chairs and dressers, crawl into it, be meeted by diverging paths but eventually picking the path less trodded, and at the end you'll find like a cute lamp or something and bring it to the desk and shes like "ahhh yes the lamp" and probably tell you exactly when she got it and who gave her it".]

[Images in the third reblog:

fairyundead: #Or the store is owned and staffed by just one dude who knows exactly when and where he got each and every item #And while he's ringing you up he tells the story of how he found the item and how he had planned to do XYZ with it #He seems almost sad to let it go but when you're like "you don't have to sell it to me?” He's like no no it's yours now #And it makes the item just a bit more special to you whenever you see it]

[idyllic-idioms: #bought a hat at the charity shop yesterday and the guy at the checkout was like #is this hat yours #and i was like ????? #and he was like did you find it in this building or bring it in yourself #and i was like oh yeah it was in that bin over there #and he was like hmm interesting]

[sleepysuccubi: #either that or they have extensive knowledge about the random Pyrex bowl you found in the basement]

[ereborne: #when I got my cuteass little teapot I wanted a little trivet to keep on the floor in the corner of my room for my teapot to perch on #and the first of the little antique/consignment shops we went to didn't have any trivets we could find #the second one I found a trivet in the first main room and I was much encouraged! I marked its position in my mind and kept looking #and by that point my family had gone farther in (an acknowledged fact that I am always the slowest and should be left) #and the lady behind the little desk asked if she could help me with anything so I told her I was looking for a trivet #but also we were all just there to poke around no worries and she was like 'oh well I don't think we have any trivets but enjoy!' #and I was like 'ah well you do have at least one. right here. on this shelf maybe two yards from where you spend all your time' #very funny to scoot a milkjug aside and lift a bunch of plates to show a little cast-iron maple leaf trivet and see her be like oh!!!!!! #that is the trivet I ended up buying but they did have at least four in the shop. maybe more hidden where I didn't see them #and also actually we never went to the other floor so who knows how many there! but yeah at least four and the first in that front room

mariedemedicis: #quoth queue quoth i]

[dreamshappytrail: #this happened when i bought a clown once #cashier had. never seen it before ???? #so they let me have him for free :3]

[roominthishell: #this happens in normal shops too if the customers are insane enough #ive had people come up to me with our wall decorations that we like nailed onto the wall trying to buy it #and i have to be like 'where did you get this from????']

[uncivilliberties: I bought an eight inch tall cast iron Michelin Man coin bank the other day and the cashier looked at it blankly for a full thirty seconds and then just whispered "what"]

[everlastingrandom: #me every time I find a new lead crystal piece #that guy at the counter is like 'we had that in the store???' #and I'm like yeah man #:3 treasure hunting]

[wierdrocks: #bought a framed cross stitch when i moved #and the guy at the antique store squinted at it and was like #i... sold this #were there two?? #guess there were two]

[lachlame: #bought a sword at a thrift store one time #had a price tag and everything #but that cashier swore on a stack of bibles that theyd never seen it before]

[Images in the fourth reblog:

lichensings: #a friend of mine when she found a doll that looks exactly like her in the back #(they let her have it for free)]

[fisherkings: #once someone semi accusingly asked if i got my sweater there and i said no and she said hm. well i wish we sold it. okay?]

[ivytwines: #the walk of shame to show them the rando booth you picked it up at]

[aquilathefighter: #the awkward description of which booth and what dusty corner of said booth #listen gertrude i like to DIG through all the musty crap]

[obfuscatingintelligence: #i found what i think was a Christmas tree topper from the Soviet Union #hammer and sickle and everything #still no idea how it showed up in small town lowa]

[turtledactyl: #my friend once found a large jar of various stones and jewelry and the person working was like idk where you found that but its uhhh $20 #there was like hundreds of dollars worth of stones and cabachons in there]

[pumpkabitch: #i know ive reblogged and tagged this before about this #but i wanted to look at this little gold frog in a case and the guy opened it took the frog out and said Ive never seen this thing before]

[goosefeathered: #one time it was a rat #the only thing worse than being a customer is being the customer that finds that rat #she put it in a jar and gave it to me? #i let it go in a creek #weird day]

[berry-femme: #me like hello I want those three musical ceramic wall masks please #and they're like #the what now.]

[comradecrab: #that one lamp shaped like a ship i bought with little sails and an anchor #at least five older ladies crowded around me to watch me see if it turned on and cheered when it did #cashier was like i swear i have never seen this in my life anyway that'll be $15]

[Images in the fifth reblog:

ectogasm: #found this absolutely fucking DELIGHTFUL antique store in keyport the other day #just packed to the gills #some of the strangest shit just piled onto shelves #religious pamphlets from 1895 thrown into a bin stacked next to a shelf that had uranium glass plates and an old box of antiseptic dressing #nixon political pins and a BOTTLE OF MERCURY and antique rolls of film #i wanted to move in #anyway i bought a pair of earrings and had this exact exchange w the shop owner]

[thesunshookwithjoy: #shout out to the lady at the antique store who said 'what the hell is a gyroscope' while we were buying said gyroscope #and then I think just guessed at the price #it's really cool though it's from an old boat]

[midnight-herald: #LITERALLY #there was this antique store in boston i would go to after moving #because there was so much good kitchen stuff in the basement that the owners forgot about #so they'd cut me a crazy deal #i'd be trying to add up how much for everything i had grabbed based on what the signs downstairs said #and the guy working the counter would just look at this shit and me with my calcualtor (not even joking) and say '$35' #ever september we would do this song and dance #got a rlly nice cast iron skillet from him this way]

[shower-man: #everytime i come up to check out with the dustiest crustiest doll that looks like it no longer believes in light]

[bohello: #"oh yeah theres a mannequin in the bathroom btw" after getting jumpscared by the mannequin]

[tyronetoastertime: #me when I got my hand caught in a bear trap at an antique store]

[ghxsttowns: #i love tiny cutlery. like tiny tiny. and whenever i find any in antique stores and go 'hi how much will it be for this' theyre like damn #those are minuscule where were they ??? u can just take them Imao dont worry]

[songsfordustmites: #usually they dont comment on my purchases but last time they did #yes there are captain kangaroo records out there. yes i did get a great deal on that bag of colorful thread. #yes the little toy that i bought is so cute. thats why i bought him.]

[cookinguptales: #I also love the opposite #when you bring some little tchotchke up to the front desk and they're like oooh do you know what this is #and you're like yes it's a little kitty with a pumpkin and I love him #and they're like THIS is a FIGURINE that came packaged in TEA and people COLLECTED them #and you're like fascinating thank you I've named him timothy]

[maximum-snoot: I briefly worked at an antique mall in highschool, the kind where they rent out spaces to different vendors and whatnot... Well one day a customer brings this skull up to the register and like, that's fine, a lot of vendors have the occasional animal skull, but we had to be like UHHHH WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS because it was a fucking PORPOISE skull, which is EXTREMELY illegal to own and even MORE illegal to sell and I guess the vendor who was trying to sell it somehow didn't know this??? So we had to be like "Sorry, you can't buy this. Nobody can buy this. We shouldn't even have this. Please don't tell the authorities."]

[Images in the sixth and final reblog:

zooophagous: #"i got it from the booth full of santa claus decor" #i also love the random booths that are selling clearly brand new items and handmade soap #like girl youre lost this place is for mildew covered magazines and racist salt and pepper shakers]

[autisticmisabel: #my favourite thing is when they're so confused about you wanting whatever useless knick knack #that they just give it to you because they can't think of a reasonable price #it's happened to me twice now i think]

[goomygoomygoomy: #me at river market all the time #'where did you even get this' in a dark corner of the basement floor dw about it]

[quillkippsisalilbitchandilovehim: #one time i asked the guy behind the cash desk about something and he tried to walk over before realising he was literally trapped behind the #desk because of all the stuff piled up around him. had to help this dude climb out lol]

[catskincass: #when I bought a pair of vintage rare binoculars for pennies because they put the decimal in the wrong place]

[siixxeyes: there's an antique store across the street from my house. i collect vintage poodle related things (i show poodles) and i found a really gorgeous poodle brooch from the 60's. the owner looked at me and said "where the fuck was this?" and proceeded to write down my name and put the word POODLES next to it. i get a phone call every few weeks when they either find something or get something new.]

[asstrainmcfucktruck: #'who let you into the forbidden relics section' 'fred??' 'NOBODY NAMED FRED WORKS HERE']

[carneflower13: #not even the creators of the labyrinth are truly aware of what lurks within it #memes]

[zzazu: #once found a 300 year old history book and the store owner was like #where did you find this? weve been looking for this for 8 years]

[night-creeps: #the best and only time I went to an antique store #i was like 3/4 years old #i dont remember if i was with my mom or my aunt #but near the counter they had their small/ easily steal-able things in a glass case #and i saw this set if two wooden cats that are vaguely reminiscent of lucky cats #but they were painted black and with slight floral detailing #and i was obsessed with cats as a kid #and in my brain i was like convinced they were super valuable because they were in a glass case #and the lady who owned the place thought i was adorable and let me hold them #and i was begging to get them but was told we couldnt #but the lady gave them to me anyway #now that im older im p sure they arent that valuable #and i only have one becayse i gave tge other to my best friend in elementary school #but I was so wowed as a kid that the lady let me have something i was convinced was extremely valuable]

/End ID

i love antique stores you go to check out & theyre like “where the hell did you get this”

[sanccharine]

03 | getting away with cheating

hogwarts au

pairing: hufflepuff!tzuyu x slytherin!reader genre: fluff, slice of life word count: 2.3k

warnings: implied bad parents

summary: whether on the field or during class, you never shied away from trouble. and in your sixth year, trouble seemed to follow you like a shadow, though you couldn’t complain. especially when that series of misfortunes led you to the transfiguration prodigy, chou tzuyu. includes: red velvet’s yeri, ateez’s san, viviz’s sinb, loona's olivia and txt's yeonjun

status: ongoing a/n: i know this short, especially for the wait but,,,,yeah i have nothing RIP

masterlist | chapter 2 | chapter 4

Never in your school life—no, in your life—have you woken up this early for anything. But at Eunbi’s request, both you and Yeri were there for breakfast. Despite the grogginess, there was a great advantage, early access! Yeri was scraping every dish as it appeared on her plate. You were not better with your mouth too full to even breathe. The pair of you ate as if you’d been neglecting meals for the past week, as if you hadn’t gorged yourselves the night before. 

A loud thump to your right made you jump a meter into the air. Your knees knocked into the table and you let out a muffled whine as silence fell over the hall. Students as well as teachers peered over their meals. 

“Nothing to see,” Eunbi grumbled, waving her hand. As if ordered, the commotion began again.

Where there should be plates, there was a huge pile of books. Some of them you recognized. Of course, you did. They were the required materials that you couldn’t buy. Some of them were notebooks on the precipice of falling apart due to the number of sheets sticking out of them. Why these books were here was a mystery to you, as per usual, you shot a confused glance at Yeri. But instead of meeting your look, she was gazing at her plate but not eating. 

“I have the textbooks for Transfiguration, Dark Arts and Charms,” Eunbi huffed. She thumbed through the pages of the top book. “They have my notes, so they should be extra helpful. I don’t care if you mess it up, I'm pretty confident with it. For Potions, I’m transferring my notes. There are so many new ingredients with ridiculous instructions. You’ll have to be textbookless for a few weeks,” she sent you a strange look before continuing. “I’m sure you were going to manage that anyway seeing as you have no books, but I will get it to you soon!”

Eunbi stopped. Completely.

After unloading all that information in one go, she froze. Her eyes fixated on the greens out the window, searching for something, before she snapped her fingers. 

“Care of Magical Creatures! Right!” she said, finally turning to you. “I didn't take that subject, so I’ve asked my friend to lend his textbook and any materials, so that's settled. Anything else you should probably find in the library or borrow from some other sixth years. But that is all, I think.” 

Eunbi nodded, proud of herself, she patted her books.

“You didn’t have to—”

“And if I didn’t, who would? Your parents?” Eunbi scoffed, as she scanned your plate for something. “Your parents suck, that's what I wanted to say last night. They suck. Now, I'll take this as payment, this is breakfast!”

Eunbi stole a chocolate muffin and waved it about as she walked away. 

That had to be the most confusing interaction you’ve had with her this year, and it was only the second day. You opened the first book and you scanned her notes. Her handwriting is atrocious, absolutely illegible, but were great notes nonetheless. She was at the top of the class for a reason. On the train, you’d put aside your worries about having zero materials. You couldn’t buy them beforehand and your grades would be horrendous either way, you’d given up. The library and used copies were your best bet for the next two years. But now, you have your textbooks. 

Yeri. 

She was smiling sheepishly when you turned away from the pile. Before you could start, she held up her spoon to allow her to go first. 

“Listen, I only have money to buy you candy and treat you to a meal or two,” Yeri said. “I’m not made of money like San or your parents,” she said the last bit under her breath. She didn’t care to hide her distaste but did it just to make you feel better. “So I had to get creative! Because as Eunbi said, your parents suck.”

With that, she returned to her meal as if she told you what day of the week it was. Matter of factly, unbothered. You didn’t know how to respond. 

Logically, you thought to have some sort of scorn against your friends. Especially when they said such things about your parents, they were blood after all. Logically. But your friends were right, all you could do was mumble your thanks and eat your breakfast. 

Are you playing this year?

Tryouts were approaching soon. With each passing day, you began to turn the question in your head until you were left with a splitting headache. 

Every time you looked at your teammates, you wondered, are you playing this year? When San smiles from across the classroom, yes, you’ll play. When Olivia speaks of playing at the world cup with her eyes shining, you decide, no, you won’t play. When Yeonjun shares his snacks with you at midnight, you entertain the thought of playing one last match beside him. 

Every time you found your broom lying motionless under your bed, the question returned to you. Are you playing this year? It was as if your broom was asking you. It was hard to look at it. You hadn’t taken it out since you arrived, not even for a little late-night ride. 

When you passed Chaeyoung down the hallway, the question was in her eyes. Are you playing this year? You all but ignored her when she would actually bring it up herself. 

The question plagued you everywhere you went. Followed you much like the school ghosts, haunting your every waking moment. Not only that, assignments had begun to pile in and your attention shifted. If you weren’t struggling in classes, then you used your free lessons to catch up. If you weren’t fretting about falling behind, then you were stressing over assignments. If you wanted pointless busy work, you wouldn't have dropped History of Magic.

You were a fool to think you could get by this year by borrowing textbooks, Eunbi may have just saved your life. 

Apart from the hefty increase in content and theory, there was the change in spell casting. Non-verbal magic was mandatory in all of your classes. Which is proven to be quite difficult when you can barely manage with verbal magic. You remembered how Tzuyu had levitated your luggage without uttering a word. 

Shaking your head away from thoughts that wouldn’t help your homework, you locked your gaze on the shelf above you. 

You’d been running laps around the library to find proper references, only minutes away from having a breakdown. The first Dark Arts assignment of the year would be no walk in the park, at least for you. Professor Kwon, having made it his career to make the lives of students absolute hell, decided to give you an essay assignment. 

To make matters worse, Chou Tzuyu was there to witness your downward spiral. 

Carrying more books than necessary, you rounded a corner and crashed right into her. Books fell all around you, perhaps you didn’t need so many. Their fall boomed down the library, but the small yelp was unmissable. This was the second time Tzuyu had been knocked down because of you. Things are not looking great. 

Forgetting your material, you quickly helped her up, tugging her close enough that the ends of your shoes were touching. Much like on the train, you began your line of apologies only for Tzuyu to chuckle and wave them away. She was quick to pat down her robe and straighten her hair. 

She looked perfect as usual. 

You, on the other hand, must’ve looked like a mad person. 

Your shirt was half untucked and some of your buttons were undone, your tie was nowhere to be seen, and not to mention, you were sweating head to toe. Calling you dishevelled would be an understatement. However, you were more worried the perfect would snitch on the state of your uniform.

“It’s fine. I’ll help,” she stopped your racing mind and began picking up the books. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled before joining her. 

Once you were done, you wordlessly led her to your table in a secluded corner. The table, much like you, was an utter mess. There was already another pile of books and pieces of loose sheets covering almost every inch of the desk. Eunbi’s textbook was haphazardly balanced on your bookbag which was holding your parchment from flying away. Tzuyu sucked in a breath at the sight. 

She placed her pile down onto a chair and let her eyes wander over the table. You couldn’t help but fidget with your fingers. Standing aside like a toddler waiting to be scolded. Tzuyu made her way around the table and stopped beside you. She leaned down and gingerly brushed the notes on Eunbi’s textbook.

“Your handwriting is atrocious,” she said, simple and clear. 

There was that coldness again.

Clearing your throat, you corrected her. “That's Eunbi’s notes.”

“Her handwriting is atrocious,” just like that, Tzuyu corrected herself. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her honesty. “Kwon’s assignment, right?” 

She didn’t wait for your answer before she began to clear out your desk. The books you’d brought together were pushed aside, except one from the middle was dragged out. 

“Honestly, you don’t even need references. Definitely not this much,” Tzuyu chuckled to herself. She looked over the pile of books that were already on your desk. “Kwon writes confusing questions to trip us up but everything you need is in the textbook.”

She pushed the textbook onto your parchment and placed your bag on a chair to the right. Leaving three books on your table, the rest were on a pile in the corner that came up to Tzuyu’s shoulder. 

“I don’t doubt Eunbi’s notes, they are thorough. So you don’t need the references but they will increase your grade, easy marks,” she moved to the book in the middle and flipped it open. Within seconds, she stopped on a page. Tzuyu looked up with a dead stare. “This was open like this.” 

Happy with her work, she stepped back near the ginormous pile and smiled at your now tidy desk. 

Did the top of the year, miss prefect herself, give you the answers?

Isn’t that cheating? You wanted to ask, but you didn’t. 

You were no saint, you’ve done your fair share of copying and have been caught red-handed many times. So much so, you doubted most teachers cared anymore. What startled you was that it was Tzuyu that aided you this time around. But you don’t feel like pushing your luck tonight. 

“It's a simple assignment. I’m just helping,” Tzuyu said as if she'd read your mind. “Besides, if Kwon wants unique answers he needs to ask unique questions. Got to change that if you don’t want your students copying each other.” 

You didn’t know what to make of that statement. “Thanks again for this, you didn’t have to—”

Tzuyu shook her head before jutting her chin at Eunbi’s textbook. “You have good friends.” At that, you nodded, a smile forming easily on your face. Tzuyu returned it. “If you don’t understand something, feel free to ask me for help. Or I could have a look over it before class tomorrow, I—”

“Are we friends?” 

“—don’t mind tutoring.”

The question had left your lips before you could even process her offer to tutor. Before she even finished her sentence. You wish you could take it back. It would save you the embarrassment of hearing your voice, timid even to your own ears.

Tzuyu paused for a moment, giving you a quick once over before nodding. 

“We can be,” Tzuyu said as she hefted the pile of books into her arms. 

“Let me help,” you tried to pry the pile from her but she swerved. 

“No, no, I got it,” Tzuyu said, not showing any discomfort from the weight of the books. “I’ll take these back.” 

She turned to walk away. 

“I’m sorry!” You called out, finally remembering that you never apologized properly. Tzuyu stopped with her back to you, waiting for you to continue. “For the bread roll.”

Her shoulders shook as a snort escaped her. Shaking her head, she said. “I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

You watched her walk away from you, swearing you could still hear her chuckle. Once she was out of your sight, you sat down and flattened your parchment. Tzuyu was right, this was a simple assignment and you have great friends. With newfound determination, you began the essay that was due the next afternoon. 

The next morning, you woke up early again. Something else adds to the skip in your step apart from the promise of a delicious breakfast. 

You were there at the Great Hall, your parchment clutched in your hands. Perhaps for the first time in your academic life, were you proud of the work you’d completed? 

You waited. 

Not for food, not for your friends. 

And you kept waiting. 

You tried not to show your disappointment on your face when San took a look at your assignment instead. 

Because Chou Tzuyu never came. 

Good reference.

That comment scribbled in cursive was probably the closest thing to a compliment from Kwon. 

You were elated. Or at least, you wanted to be, but all you could feel was shock.

The number at the top of your assignment only added to your situation. 

“No way!” Yeri yanked your assignment from your hands before jumping over the Slytherin table. She huffed out again. “There is no way.” 

San and Yeonjun seemed to materialize out of nowhere at her side, pressed shoulder to shoulder. They too, in shock, stared at the grade. 

“Is this real?” Yeonjun asked with a smirk. You had to hold yourself back from jumping over the table and tackling him, but you shared the sentiment. It didn’t feel real.

“I think this is the highest grade you’ve gotten,” San said, befuddled. He gingerly picked your assignment from Yeri’s still hands and read the comments. “Like ever.” 

“Yeah,” was all you said as you turned over to the Hufflepuff table. 

Tzuyu was already staring at you, a knowing smile on her lips before she turned back to her friends. 

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: i say this every time,,,,and you will keep hearing it,,,,,sorry for taking so long ;-;

taglist: @someone-who-likes-broccoli

send an ask to be added !

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Breaking And Entering: Electric Boogaloo A Sequel To First Meeting

\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/-\/

I M P O R T ANT -A N N O U N C E M E N T- B E L OW

~We Have Such Sights To Show You!~

Rosaria is extremely confused about why you, a kind and respectable person with a good job and a kind heart would have a crush on HER of all people, someone who is as rude, crass, and strange as her someone who is… broken goods.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Stop pacing Rosaria you’re going to burn a hole into the carpet” Barbra told Rosaria in an attempt to placate her.

Rosaria promptly ignores this and continues to wear a hole in the probably very expensive carpet.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Why, why, why, why? Why would someone like you have a crush on someone like her!

She needs to find out!

She WILL find out!

Directly from the source!

So you know what time it is right?

Breaking and entering along with looking through your private possessions: electric boogaloo

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“It’s decided” Rosaria stated to herself.

“What is?” Barbra asked, already deeply concerned with where this is going.

“I’m going to break into their house… again” Rosaria said as she opened the window.

“Rosaria nO!” Barbra yelled as Rosaria hopped out the window.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Rosaria made a beeline for your house over the roofs of Mondstadt with a thousand questions in her mind.

Most importantly when and why.

When and Why did you develop a crush on her.

Well either way she is going to find out.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Rosaria easily broke into your home while you were out for the day and immediately set to work.

The first thing she did was flip through the journal from last time but that left her with nothing besides the information that this was your tenth journal. 

So Rosaria did the natural thing and read through the nine other journals starting with the first. Inside of the first the handwriting was barely legible but she could luckily still read it.

The first passage that mentioned her read “Grandmaster Varka brought a girl who looked the same age as me back to Mondstadt. She looked sad. I tried talking to her. She was rude. I don’t like her all that much. Her name is Rosaria”

Rosaria vaguely recalled you attempting to talk to her and make a few horrible jokes to make her laugh and give her some Sweet Madame, Rosaria also recalled that she made several rude remarks to you for your trouble.

The next passage that mentioned her still had atrocious handwriting and read “I saw Rosaria tonight. She was feeding the Cats. She looked very pretty! 

How late do you stay up!? She only feeds the cats when it's very late or… early, AND PRETTY! No one has ever called her pretty, a bitch sure, but PRETTY!

The final passage that mentioned her had a drawing of a small familiar stone.

The same stone that she has above her heart right now.

FUCK!

“SO YOU WERE THE ONE TO GIVE IT TO ME ON WINDLUME ALL THOSE YEARS AGO DURING THE BLIND GIFT EXCHANGE VARKA SUCKERED ME INTO!” Rosaria screamed in her head.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As she continued to read entries in your journals she realized you were a large part of your life and her apart yours.

Almost like a pair of dancers who never touch twirling around the streets and plains in this land of freedom.

…

Wait a goddamn minute.

If she has your blind Windblume gift… that means…

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Rosaria whipped around and scanned your room for the Item she had hoped to never see again.

-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

And yup.

There it was.

A small lopsided sculpture made of wood depicting the legendary creature known only as rabbit, in the old times it was feared for its destructive power and love for carrots.

And for the first time In her LIFE Rosaria blushed

The next thing she saw however was you.

Standing in the doorway.

Looking at her

Fuck

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Part Two DONE! GOD I really hope that part three comes to me a bit easier.

In Other News

I haven't been able to carve out the time I need to go through sumeru but if I'm lucky I'll have time this weekend if I do you guys can start sending me requests for those characters!

[tennessoui]

If you're up up to it, how about obikin and 42?

yes!!! Prompt 42 is Star-Crossed Lovers, but star-crossed lovers are soooooo out now. 'Crossed the stars to be lovers' is IN, baby!!

(2.7k)

Someone has left a letter on his bunk. Obi-Wan as a rule doesn’t get letters. Actually, as a rule, Obi-Wan has never wanted to receive a letter in his entire life. They all have datapads for a reason, and it’s because they’ve evolved past the need for flimsi and ink when there are means at their disposal to deliver messages near instantly.

So no, Obi-Wan has never wanted to see a letter sitting on his bunk. He finds the whole thing rather trying, actually, the Flimsi Friends program the Jedi Order established fifty standard years ago in an attempt to connect their Jedi with others across the branches through letters. Obi-Wan had scorned the idea as an Initiate living comfortably in the Temple on Coruscant, and his opinion hadn’t really changed once he began his tenure at the AgriCorps.

Kabre notices before anyone else. “Oh, hey! Obi-Wan’s got a letter.”

“Finally,” Aldran grins, craning his neck from where he’s collapsed on his bunk. “We only signed you up months ago.”

“Really, you shouldn’t have,” Obi-Wan says. “Really.”

“Oh, come now, little Obi,” Kabre pats him on the head. Obi-Wan is twenty-five and of a perfectly average height, but Kabre is close to three heads taller than him and of an indeterminable age. “Think of it as an opportunity to strengthen your connection to the living Force.”

“Through the Flimsi Friends program,” Obi-Wan deadpans, raising an eyebrow up at his peer.

“Getting letters from Susa is the highlight of my week,” Aldran tells the ceiling dreamily.

Obi-Wan shares a commiserating eyeroll with Kabre. “That’s because you’re in love with her.”

“Who wouldn’t be? She’s so sweet and kind and pretty and she has all these stories from her adventures in the ExploraCorps--”

“Alright, who got him talking about Susa?” Lathrum asks from the door, sighing in exasperation as he makes his way over to his own bunk. “It’ll be a standard day before he’s done.”

“Hey!” Aldran gasps, offended and already close to sulking. “Whatever. Fine. Everyone’s just jealous that Susa and I are in love because y’all are never going to find something nearly as good as we have.”

“Obi-Wan finally got a letter from the program,” Kabre announces to Lathrum. “We were just saying that he should at least try to be excited.”

“Yes, perhaps you’ll meet your own Susa,” Lathrum smirks, peeling off his dirt-covered tunic. His next words come out muffled. “Force help us if that happens.”

“No need to worry,” Obi-Wan says dryly, picking up the letter and studying it. “They appear to be a youngling.”

“A youngling wrote you?” Kabre asks, barely restrained glee in his deep baritone.

Aldran guffaws from his bunk. “Well now you have to write back!”

“Knowing your luck, it’s probably a youngling from the Jedi Temple,” Lathrum says. “Dear Obi-Wan, Today someone chose me to be their Padawan and I’m one step closer to being a Jedi Knight. How are your plants doing?”

“Yes, alright,” Obi-Wan shakes his head, smiling slightly. He had met Lathrum when he was fourteen and still bitterly disappointed about his new position at the AgriCorps, and Lathrum has never let him forget it even after all these years.

He sits down on his mattress and pulls out the letter. It’s short at least. The handwriting is atrocious but the spelling is worse.

Dear Obi-Wan,

Hi! My name is Anakin Skywalker. I am nine years old. How are you doing today? My master says I have to write this to practice my spelling. I think not everyone can learn Basic, but he says I have to and that all Jedi masters know how. I didn’t ever know there was all this stuff I have to do to be a Jedi. I’ve been here for weeks now and I still don’t have my lightsaber!

I think the temple is really weird. It’s so big and cold. I miss my friends back home. Me and Kitster would go crazy exploring this place but no one here wants to play with me. Master Jinn says not to worry and I’m not! The temple is just really big and I’m cold all the time and I miss my mom. Master Jinn found me on Tatooine and took me here to make me a Jedi which is great, but everyone here already knows each other and I don’t think they like me much. I know the Jedi Council doesn’t. They didn’t even want to train me but Master Jinn inzi--incis--said he would.

Do you want to be friends?

Would you explore the temple with me?

Write back soon please,

Anakin

“Well?” Kabre asks, when Obi-Wan finishes silently reading the letter.

Obi-Wan sighs and rubs a hand over the jagged penmanship. It’s all too obvious that this Anakin Skywalker is...painfully young, churlish and childish and achingly lonely.

Obi-Wan sighs again, harder, as he looks up at his bunkmates. “Where do we keep the blasted flimsi?”

---

Dear Anakin,

Thank you for your letter, it was very nice to read. My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I’m 25 years old. I hope you are settling in at the Temple better by the time this letter finds you. I have to admit I was very surprised to hear that you are nine years old and have been allowed to train to be a Jedi. That’s unheard of. I’m sure you’ll be an excellent Jedi. There must have been a reason your master chose you. The Force wills it and it will be.

It is understandable to miss your mother and your old home. When I became a member of the AgriCorps, I spent the first few months missing the Jedi temple on Coruscant a lot. It was the only home I ever had. But we make others as we go. The Temple is big and I suppose very cold compared to a desert planet--I looked up Tatooine here and there wasn’t much information, but I could never live somewhere with two suns! I’d be burned to a crisp in a matter of hours.

The upside to the Temple being big is that there are a lot of hiding spots and footholds for climbing. Try the pillars in the entrance hall. They connect to each other. My friends and I would run around on top of them for hours, although I think that was mostly because we were too scared to get down. You should ask Knight Eerin about it, or Knight Vos. They’re usually in the Mess Hall if not the Halls of Healing.

I’m sure Master Jinn has you busy with meditation and classes, but I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Best,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

---

Dear Obi-Wan,

I was really excited to get your letter! I didn’t know it would take so long but it’s been ages! So much stuff has happened. I finally finished my remedial classes and Master says we can focus more time of katas now! I can’t wait to learn how to fight! And Master Windu smiled at me the other day when he saw me in the hall because Master told him about my grades!

I asked Knight Eerin about you and she showed me some pictures she had on her datapad of you when you lived at the Temple. You look really pretty cool! I have blond hair and blue eyes if you were wondering. My mom always said she thought I was going to be really tall. What do you look like now? What do you do at the AgriCorps? Why did you leave the Temple? Knight Eerin says you need to give her a comm call soon. She didn’t sound very happy.

I made a friend! Knight Vos’ padawan was there when I talked to him about what you told me, and she came with me to go exploring! She’s so cool. She’s been helping me with my katas too.

Apparently I won’t get my lightsaber for years! That’s so long!

Anyway I have to go and do my reading now but please write back faster this time, Obi-Wan!

--Ani

----

Obi-Wan never reacts quite as happily and dramatically as Aldrin does when he sees a letter from Anakin on his bunk in the evenings, but over the years everyone learns not to disturb Obi-Wan on those nights.

The first letter Obi-Wan receives from Anakin after the boy turns eighteen includes his commlink frequency hastily crammed at the bottom of the page. If you want, Anakin has scribbled.

“Finally,” Obi-Wan jokes when the line connects and Anakin answers breathlessly. “No offense to you, dear one, and you have come quite a ways since you were a youngling, but your handwriting is still atrocious. I’d much rather talk to you like this than try to puzzle out what you’ve written.”

Anakin splutters and then stutters out in a voice slower and deeper than Obi-Wan had expected, “I didn’t know you had an accent, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan finds that he likes that voice saying his name in that way.

That’s the first sign of trouble.

----

Anakin sends a photo of his knighting ceremony. Obi-Wan wants to cry with pride. His friends tease him about it relentlessly. “You look like I did the day I married Susa,” Aldrin crows and takes a picture of Obi-Wan’s blushing, laughing face. Later, Obi-Wan reluctantly sends it to Anakin.

“I’m jealous of your friends,” Anakin confesses with an exhale of static. “They get to see you everyday.”

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, unable to say more. Unable to admit that he’s thought the same thing about Anakin’s master at the Temple. Unable to deny it though.

They move onto safer topics, ones that make Obi-Wan’s chest feel less tight.

----

“Jedi Knights are forbidden to have romantic attachments,” Kabre tells him apropos of nothing one late evening when they’re leaning against the railings of their cabin.

Obi-Wan doesn’t even try to pretend to not know what his friend is talking about. Anakin is twenty-three now. They call each other as often as possible, whenever they have enough free time. Thinking about Anakin, somewhere out in the galaxy, makes Obi-Wan feel dangerous things. Dangerous, insidious, illogical things.

“Yes,” he agrees.

“Everything you’ve ever told me about this boy makes me think he’s in love with you,” Kabre says. “And the way you tell it makes me think you’re in love with him too.”

“Kabre, I…”

“I’m not asking you to deny it to me, Obi-Wan. You don’t need to defend yourself. You know no one cares if you’ve gone and fallen in love with your flimsi friend. It happens. And Force knows there’s no way you could be more insufferable than Aldrin and Susa.”

“He’s a Jedi Knight, Kabre,” Obi-Wan looks away, off over the fields. “I know what that means.”

----

When Anakin is twenty-four, Obi-Wan walks into his room to see a letter on his pillow. He blinks in surprise. He hasn’t gotten a letter since they petered out in favor of comm calls with Anakin.

But he’d recognize that handwriting anywhere.

He sits down to read it.

Dear Obi-Wan,

I find myself growing weary of Knighthood. I love my Padawan, I love the missions, I love the fighting. But I love something else more. I have for almost as long as I can remember.

I’ve been looking through the old letters from you. I’ve kept them all. I know Jedi should not have material attachments, but I found that I could no more throw them away than give my lightsaber to a Sith. They make up our story.

You were the first friend I ever had at the Temple. I don’t quite think you realized that then, and you may not even realize it now. But you were. I would get a letter from you and feel warm for weeks afterwards.

Actually, everything I love about the Temple and the Jedi you gave to me. My friends now, indirectly. All the hiding spots. Moving meditation.

When I got my kyber crystal, I wanted to tell you before anyone else. When my Padawan braid was cut, I gave it to my master, but wished I had something I could give to you too.

That was the day I really admitted to myself that you already have all of me.

Obi-Wan, I’m in love with you. I love you more every time we talk. Disengaging the comms at the end of the night hurts like losing my hand all over again. I love you, I love you.

And I have been a coward about it for too many years. I was afraid that you would reject me, think me too rash and young and foolish. But I know what I want. You told me in one of your letters that you believed I lived off of a single-minded desire to achieve my goals and that I would let nothing stand in the way.

I do not plan on starting now, if you will have me that is. I dream of nothing more than to feel your hands on my face, to listen to the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

I will not disrespect the ways of the Jedi by loving you quietly, when I know you are my deepest, strongest attachment. One that I will not shake, even if I lived to be as old as Master Yoda himself.

If you find that you feel the same way, I will leave the Jedi Order tomorrow and meet you on Bandomeer. If you do not, then I understand and will never speak of this again. I am something of an expert after all these years of loving you silently from afar.

Yours sincerely, yours always, yours completely,

Anakin

Obi-Wan traces the words with a shaking hand. He doesn’t know he’s crying until a tear falls onto the flimsi. Oh, Anakin. Oh, his brave, foolish Anakin.

Will he really be so selfish as to allow Anakin to leave his Knighthood for him? His padawan, his home?

But the knowledge that Anakin loves him is a heady, addictive feeling. Obi-Wan has never truly gotten the things he wants. He loves his life now, of course. But he hadn’t wanted it.

And he loves Anakin.

He loves him terribly.

He reaches for a piece of flimsi and a pen.

----

Anakin will be the first to admit he’s been in a foul mood for a few standard weeks now. He’d sent that letter to Obi-Wan--Force, why had he sent that letter to Obi-Wan, obviously the man will never want to talk to him again now--and then immediately Ahsoka and him had been called in for a mission.

It had been awful and disgusting. Anakin is covered in mud from head to toe, and his padawan doesn’t look any better. And worst of all, he had had no time at all to comm Obi-Wan. No time at all to see how the man had taken his confession. It feels like he’s been holding his breath for days.

But he’s at the Temple now. He can clean himself off and call Obi-Wan incessantly until the man answers. Anakin can’t keep living like this.

“Letter for you, Master,” Ahsoka says as he enters their quarters. She’d been sent ahead while Anakin had finished docking the ship, and now she’s sitting at the table perfectly clean.

Anakin thinks his heart stops at these words and then it starts beating as fast as it ever has before. “Where?”

“I put it on your bed,” Ahsoka peers up at him with a furrowed brow. “Are you okay, Skyguy? You look a bit--”

But Anakin’s gone, already tearing into his room. There on the bedspread is a letter. Obi-Wan’s written him a letter.

Anakin has to try opening it three times before he finally gets his fingers to cooperate. It’s very short.

Dearest One, Obi-Wan has written.

I’ll meet you here tomorrow on Bandomeer. I will be waiting.

Forever yours,

Obi-Wan

Anakin smiles and feels like he could cry or sing or dance or scream from all the joy that’s welled up in his chest at this small handful of words Obi-Wan has given him. They’re everything and more.

Mindful of the mud on his person, he puts the letter gently on his bed and walks back out to the common area. Ahsoka is right where he left her.

“Okay, now you just look scary,” she says, pointing a fork at him. “Stop smiling like that.”

Anakin lets his grin die. He won’t relish this next part, but it’s for Obi-Wan. It’s so he can be with Obi-Wan. It's necessary. “Snips,” he says, sitting down opposite her. “We need to talk.”

[kaijurakunsobs]

You will feel joy, one day

master list for this series

sorry for the wait y'all, I had to torture myself into listening to the same song to get the inspo I needed for this next chapter which is READYMADE - Ado (it has English subtitles btw)

Hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: It's been clear from the start that you won't go down without putting up a fight, the tone in your voice and stand are nothing but infuriating for Heisenberg, just like his mere presence fills you with annoyance. The factory is enormous and whatever he's doing here could get you killed, but even in this kingdom of oil and rusted metal, there's a bit of kindness.

Right now, you would accept the title of naive, because you were when you thought this man would share his secrets with you, instead...he's giving you a fucking tour of the entire place, wildly pointing and all the doors and doing sharp turns, taking you up and down flights of stairs "I hope you don't get lost, darlin', we don't want you ending in the wrong place, right?" there's mockery in his voice as he speaks over his shoulder, halting to a stop and making you trip and crash against him.

"This is the boiler room, you might want to familiarize yourself with this place in particular" a snarky smile appearing on his lips

Peeking inside makes you go pale and sigh in frustration, it's a mess, you can see cables, crudely fixed with tape, more flammable materials, and so many oil spills on the ground, "I can also familiarize with the rest of the fabric because this dump could explode any day"

His smile falls and that expression of annoyance, that just seems to be for you, comes back in no time. Releasing a cloud of smoke he turns around and starts walking faster, slowly regaining his showman's voice and the exuberance of his movements renew with the occasional laugh, is enough to make you tune him out again, looking at whatever you find more interesting, nose scrunching up with whenever there's something that unsettles or makes you question this man's leadership and care for this place. If you do take the role of helping him, you know you're gonna exploited day and night.

He's not blind or stupid, he knows you are doing everything but listening to him, every time he looks over his shoulder to make sure you are following and paying him some god damn attention, he will always see you eyeing everything, dissecting the place, and doing a face that just speaks volumes of how unimpressed you are by his life's work, but it's not like he will tell you about his plans, it's too soon for that, what if you are just a little spy under Miranda's orders?

It rubs him the wrong way how adamant she was on you being under his orders, super-sized bitch didn't raised too much hell, which also puts him on edge, it just doesn't feel normal for him. In any other situation where Miranda has favored him over Dimitrescu, and it wasn't because "mother" gave her that heartfelt speech Karl being all alone on his iron tower, Moreau is the forgotten child of the bunch and has to beg for almost everything, Miranda is already pissed with Donna and her botanical gig, let alone, the way she uses her cadou to just make dolls move.

That left him in the position akin to a middle child, he's just there, occasionally remembered and rarely to give him treats or surprises. He's used to scavenging for materials, do the occasional grave robbing or take the corpses the other Lords leave behind.

So, why did she left you with him?

"Lastly but no less important! the living quarters"

You have been so lost in thought, you didn't noticed that his "fantastical tour" is over, and you are back to the front of the complex...shit, you didn't even paid attention to where everything is, you're gonna get so lost if you try to navigate this place on your own.

After entering the brute closes the door behind you and goes to the left office, you can hear him mumbling under his breath and things being moved around, you don't know how long he's going to be in there, so you turn your attention to the rest of the room.

From everything you have seen, this place is the cleanest one and it makes you think of the layout in your family's factory. It looks like he repurposed what used to be the waiting area, there's a kitchen in the right corner, a couple of sofas that had seen better days, a lot of blueprints have been left on the coffee table. To the left, it's the main office, a lot bigger and the tinted glass on the door has the name Heisenberg hand-painted on it, classy, you suppose that that's his room? you don't care, opting for getting close to the blueprints, his handwriting is atrocious and there are notes everywhere, how interesting, one of the workers used to say that was a sign of a brilliant mind.

"You are not allowed to go there, a'right?" hearing him so close makes you jump, when did he come back? from the tone of his voice, you might be right, it's either his bedroom "This one, however! this one is just for you" he says oh so sweetly when pointing at the smaller office to the right opening the door rather unceremoniously.

Now you get why the rest of this area is so clean and clutter-free, motherfucker pushed all the trash and old furniture in there, it's dusty and the air, somehow, is stale only in this place, you can see cobwebs "Since I'm being kind enough to let you sleep on this side and not in the cellars, I think is fair that you take care of the mess, don't you think?"

"Can't I just sleep in one of the couches?"

"Of course not, we don't want my precious mechanic to get sick, right?" condescending asshole, he even smiles at you, showing you his teeth in what you identify as an act of intimidation

"Of course we don't want that, my Lord! but, I do must say, you have been ill-mannered, showing me around your domain yet...you haven't told me your name when introductions were supposed to be made long ago" it's your turn to give him teeth flashing smile, his going a bit forced

"Well you see sweetheart, I would have done it earlier, but I came encountered a disrespectful brat that decked me in the face as soon as we met"

"Really now? Perhaps, this brat was done with being manhandled and reacted accordingly to how they felt" the sardonic smile on your face grows and you can see how much it pisses him off, and that shouldn't make you proud.

The man is looking, more like attempting, to look down on you, clicking his tongue loudly and in a dissatisfied manner, with complete derision, he gives you, the closest thing to a respectful bow "My name is Karl Heisenberg and I'm one of the four Lords working under Miranda's orders"

In response, you give him a curtsy and use your best sarcastic tone, just for him "It's such an honor to meet you, my lord. I must say I'm no noble but I do HOPE you may remember the name of this pheasant girl, Y/N, L/N Y/N"

He doesn't appreciate the way you talk to him or how you don't even try to hide how little you respect or fear him, but he needs you alive to accelerate and optimize the factory's production, under other circumstances? he would have thrown you down to let the Sturm have some fun, but he won't, at least for now.

"So, Miss Y/N...let me give you a...welcoming gift" he's harsh when trusting a bundle of crumpled clothes and old boots into your arms, pushing you back hard enough that you almost lose your balance "I don't expect you to always wear my hand-me-downs, this is a momentary arrangement"

"Oh my! so generous of you, to clothe this poor village girl with your own garments, I am so thankful for this, however, if I may ask for a tiny favor...can I know where your bathroom is? I don't what to soil this fine fabric with my dirty body"

You don't like the way he smiles at you, with one hand he grabs your shoulder and with the other he opens the door, pushing you towards what used to be the employee's showers, there's mold and broken mirrors, a lot of the shower heads are gone and the only one that seems to be functioning is leaking.

"Serve yourself, princess, just know this...there's only cold water, the hot water stopped working years ago and I haven't felt like repairing it, I hope you enjoy your shower!"

And with that, he leaves you, finally alone but unnerved on how easily he could come back and just stare at you like a creep. But you need a shower, there's grime and dirt caked to your body and it's starting to get disgusting and itchy. So you swallow your pride and leave the borrowed clothes over the small wall separating the showers from the rest of the place and brace yourself to what might be the worst moment of the day so far.

Later you are cursing him as loud as you can, he didn't lie when he said that only the cold water worked, but you would say it was freezing, his clothes are uncomfortably big on you, and smell of faint sweat and like these were left tucked away for a long time, the boots are the best part, these have been broken in nicely and they fit you...who are you kidding? the damn things are falling apart and you feel like a clown with how big they are.

That has left you with the shining crown of the shit show that's been this whole day! the trash in your new room, you had to box so many useless papers, look everywhere to find one measly broom, and use the remains of the gown you came in with to keep your hair out of your face and as a bandana to cover your nose and mouth.

From all the old furniture in the room, the only useful stuff is the old desk, a sofa that somehow survived without being eating by termites but might be infested with cockroaches, and a lamp. It's not much, but it's something.

All this moving around now has brought a new problem.

You are starving.

You can't remember when Miranda took you, let alone when was your last meal or if you were fed during your time in the cell. But Heisenberg's fridge is empty, there's only a handful of onions and those have roots and sprouts coming out already. There's nothing substantial in the cupboards or anywhere for that matter.

You doubt there might anything to eat in this place, but, you better give it a try, better die trying than going to sleep with a grumbling stomach, right? But, you didn't learn jackshit from him and you can't remember anything from the directions Heisenberg gave you.

Fuck it.

Slowly you creep out of the small apartment and peek outside, looking around assures you that the coast is clear. This could be a great learning experience! no matter how much of a dick this man is, there's something of value in his words and maybe, just maybe, you should pay more attention when he talks...MAYBE.

The place is a labyrinth of stairs, broken walls turned into hallways and sealed doors, you do have half a mind to remember which doors and areas he pointed as "out of bounds" for you, which is a surprise, seeing how massive the place is.

Under the stench of grease and smoke, you notice, the tasty scent of stew...close, very close, your poor stomach twisting painfully and mouth rapidly filling with saliva, you start following the heavenly aroma until you reach an old cargo lift, a large man sits there and for a moment that makes you stop in your tracks.

The man is surrounded by bags and crates filled with stuff from fruits to what you guess are various pieces of machinery and other objects hard to identify in the low light "Aaaaah...a new customer perhaps? You must be Lord Heisenberg's new assistant, are you not?"

He smiles with true kindness and something similar to pity, meaty hands adorned with gold rings beacon you close "Come come, miss...?"

"Uuuuuuuh...I'm Y/N, nice to meet you..."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Y/N, you may call me The Duke"

There's something infectious in him that makes you relax your shoulders and walk closer to him "So...what do you do here Duke?"

"What? well, I'm nothing but a humble merchant, occasionally I set up shop here in the factory, especially when I have a delivery or things that may spark Lord Heisenberg's interest, and now that you are here, I will make a note to bring stuff you could use too"

"I...I would appreciate the gesture, thanks" the small sincere smile in your face drops when your stomach decides to grumble loud enough to be heard by the Duke, the man laughing at the sound, making your embarrassment worst.

"Would like to accompany me with dinner, dear? I have made plenty and this could be a small...celebratory feast for you"

"Celebratory? no offense, but...there's nothing to celebrate"

"Aren't you alive and able to walk?" he's so careful when serving some stew in a bowl, making sure not to spill a drop "I think that surviving whatever happened to you, is worth celebrating"

The bowl is warm in your hands and the smell is just divine, you take a seat on the floor waiting for the Duke to serve his bowl and then you dig in, sighing in appreciation when the rich taste of the broth fills your mouth, the softness of the meat and the carrots. You can see the Duke smile with pride when you compliment his cooking, enjoying each spoonful to the fullest.

"It's getting quite late Y/N and Lord Heisenberg is one to rise early, I suggest you go to bed or you end up feeling too tired tomorrow"

"Yeah...thanks for the meal Duke, I really appreciate it"

"Don't mention it and remember, the Duke's Emporium is here to satisfy all your shopping needs!"

You bid the man farewell and do the trek back to your room, taking time to memorize the way to the lift and the living quarters, the man might be a merchant but you want to get to know more about him, he seems nice, he's been the nicest one so far.

The living area feels cold and so terribly empty, there's no sign of Heisenberg anywhere, which you are thankful for. Only after entering your room and laying on your "bed", waiting a bit to hear any sound that might belong to the Lord, when only the sounds of the factory echo back to you do you dare to cry.

It starts slowly, your eyes fixated on the ceiling, then the flood gates open and you start to sob and scream, tears running down the side of your face to get lost in your hair leaving wet patches in their wake. But your crying evolves into fear, panic, raged breathing, and asking hands, all the weight of what happened today swallows you whole.

You don't know where to start, the way you growled at Heisenberg in the church, HOW he was able to move heavy metal without touching it? and all those corpses suspended ton hooks...the howls and things banging against the doors, the cruelty in how Heisenberg tossed you around and screamed in your face. How do you even managed to put and kept that brave face on when you were so scared is beyond you, you did it and that's enough.

The rapid and irregular movement of your chest does nothing but make your side hurt, the pain shoots up and down your body, making you curl on your side to alleviate the pressure if only a bit.

You want to die...but not like this, not terrified for your existence, not at the hands of a volatile man that can crush you with his hammer any day.

You want to live, but to live with your life depending on how well you perform your role? that's not a life at all.

Exhaustion and fatigue eventually take you away into a dreamless sleep, your last thought is...what's going to happen tomorrow?

You don't know, but as the Duke said, you survived whatever Miranda did to you and you will survive this too, no matter what, you will live.

[stainedglassgob]

hi gob. apropos of nothing. would you tell me about brockbertie 🥰

hiiiii blink🥰 omg though great question...... its almost like there's a domesticity meme going around that would be perfect for this.....

big spoon/little spoon: economically and structurally it makes most sense for adalberto to be the big spoon so xe often is. however if brock asked to be the big spoon, adalberto wouldnt say no.

favorite non-sexual activity: besides smoking weed, probably going on walks? especially around the harbor.

who uses all the hot water: adalberto. xe is very tall, loses body heat easily, and only has one hand to wash all of xyr hair. also brock usually doesn’t shower, so.

most trivial thing they fought over: refer to ‘who calls the landlord when the heat’s not working’

who does most of the cleaning: brock with exception to any high shelves, which are adalberto’s problem.

what has a season pass on the dvr/who controls the netflix queue: if there were a movie adaptation of dontrell, who kissed the sea or even just a recording of the stageplay they would watch it on a semi-regular basis. otherwise it’s iron chef america or the shape of water. 

who calls the landlord when the heat’s not working: so here’s the thing. brock and bertie are not well liked by their landlord. the fact they still have their lease is a damn near miracle. so hypothetically: the heat stops working and brock doesn’t see a problem because he doesn’t need the heat. meanwhile bertie is not at all equipped for this, but xe would rather freeze than bother their landlord. and so they get into a week-long argument of bertie trying to get brock to talk to their landlord for xem, and brock not doing it because he has terrible people skills. xe even tries to make deals with deb about it but deb doesnt control the heating in baltimore she’s a dead crab. but anyway bertie finally gives up and starts believing that it will get fixed on its own. somehow. eventually finn finds out about their idiocracy and bullies them both into talking to their landlord about it. 

who steals the blankets: adalberto because he can’t retain body heat. also brock sleeps like a stone (literal) so it’s not that hard to steal blankets off him.

who leaves their stuff around: adalberto will set up an easel in the middle of their apartment and leave it there for brock to run into. however, brock has left potting soil dangerously close to their coffee maker before. bertie has not been able to live the mud coffee incident down.

who remembers to buy the milk: adalberto writes the grocery lists. adalberto’s handwriting is, lovingly, atrocious. xe will forget the milk, and brock can’t correct them because he can’t read what the grocery list says.

who remembers anniversaries: neither. it’s hard for either of them to pin down anniversaries given they renewed their vows on a different day to their actual marriage. also they were doing a whole “what are we” tango for many many years so like what are anniversaries actually. anything is a cause for celebration in their household though.

who cooks normally? adalberto. brock lends an extra hand where needed.

how often do they fight: serious fights are very rare but guaranteed disastrous (give it up for season nine!) otherwise they sarcastically nettle each other for shits.

what do they do when they’re away from each other. goddd they’re so insufferable when they’re away from each other because it’s really not by their own choice. brock picked up gardening while in boston, and adalberto became way too invested in blaseball (derogatory) so there’s that i guess. they’ll sit on speaker phone with each other to replicate sharing the same space but it’s really not the same. sad but: brock’s death led adalberto into a depressive spiral that meant he was incapable of doing anything he used to enjoy, especially art, and he only got out of that funk a year or two before being incinerated himself.

nicknames for each other? brock and bertie are technically nicknames, so their full names have become their own form of endearment, especially when bertie calls him barakah. brock calls adalberto either tito or bert and sometimes habibi but that’s like. reuinted-in-the-hall type situations.  much later into their relationship bertie does start referring to brock as his husband, but that’s post-mortem specific.  

who is more likely to pay for dinner? brock because he was the more financially stable one for most of their relationship. 

what would they get each other for gifts? they aren’t super into gift giving? i mean there was that one time adalberto adopted an older shelter dog for brock’s “died but got better” party. meanwhile brock gifts adalberto so many plants while he’s in boston. just so many. their apartment was overrun with spider ivy. 

who kissed who first? SIGHS. it was adalberto. heat-of-the-moment season six championships gut reaction that xe then immediately regretted. brock, who had perplexing feelings about bertie since they were in high school, immediately chucked that memory into the depths of his mind to not be seen again.

who made the first move? brock waited for bertie to make the first move but honestly brock was fine with their relationship not moving farther than how it was.

who remembers things. neither of them. good luck.

who started the relationship? brock since he’s the accountant guy. brock and bertie were married way before they actually developed more intimate feelings, but in terms of “starting a relationship” i think marriage is pretty high up there.

who cusses more. brock because he already very curt with his language, so his fuck-to-non-fuck-word ratio is much higher than bertie’s. 

what would they do if the other was hurt? UHHHHHH brock is really good at compartmentalizing and in general handles traumatic injuries well (this is not a compliment). like i once wrote about brock carrying bertie’s severed arm like a slab of meat to the hospital. very clinical but also very delicate when necessary. he only has issues with hospitals themselves and will dissociate if he sets foot in one. meanwhile bertie isn’t knowledgeable in rock-person physiology to know what’s actually bad, but xe will kinda lose his shit regardless if brock gets injured. xe had to drag brock off the field during day x and had to be stopped from running back to pick up any broken pieces. (shoutout to when they both got attacked by consumers within the same week. that was a miserable time of them trying to take care of each other while also not pulling stitches and then a couple days later brock was traded to the flowers which made the healing process even longer.) in general they both have an overprotective nerve and take the “through sickness and through health” thing very seriously. i could go on about this specific aspect of their relationship but i’m zzzzzz right now.  

[littlemomentsofbeauty]

cedric jealousy angsty blurb 🥺🤲

Trust Me

a/n : ok guess who’s once again making all angst end in fluff!! it’s me!!

warnings : angst, fluff kinda, mentions of cheating

taglist @cedricsbrowncurls @hoe4cedricdiggory @feliciamint @sugarywinterroses @faeinorbit @truly-insatiable @dianadiggory @animalcrackersinchurch @ceofcedric @annasdani

---

You flicked your hair over your shoulder, laughing vociferously as you caught the glint in the boy beside you’s eye.

The blonde boy, by the name of Hugo, grinned triumphantly, eyeing the way you smiled at him.

“We really do have to get back to work, ” you sighed, shaking your head with a surreptitious smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hugo questioned, raising an eyebrow in retaliation.

“Hugo, come on, ” you chastised in mock asperity, silencing the giggle that tried to slip past your lips. “I have to finish this, then go meet Cedric.” You looked back down at the book in front of you, curling your legs on the chair.

“Oh, right. Cedric.” Hugo frowned, and you swore you caught his blue eyes roll in discontent. He sighed. “Fine, then. What does Essence of Lunacy do to one?”

Your eyes flicked over the scrawl of your handwriting, and you nodded. “Causes irrational behavior and eventual insanity. Dark magic, ” you replied, grimacing.

“Right, ” Hugo said with a smile, moving on to the next question.

You were unaware, as you continued to study, of Cedric’s figure nearing the bookshelf the two of you sat near in anticipation of your night together. His figure lurked beside you, until you looked up.

“Hi, Ced!” you called, waving a quick goodbye to Hugo who held a tight-lipped, forced-looking smile.

You got up, traipsing towards your boyfriend and putting your arms around his neck to kiss him on the cheek. His normal benevolent stature was replaced with an unmoving one, and his hands were stiff in his pockets as he refused to return your affection. You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows.

“C’mon, ” he said through clenched teeth, leading you by your hand outside the library and up to your usual spot in his dorm.

“Cedric, care to tell me what the fuck is going on?” you said tempestuously when the boy seemed to glare at you as you sat down on his bed.

“Oh, I could ask you the same, Y/N, ” he said, smiling a pursed-lip smile that did the opposite of reach his grey eyes; they were cold, unwelcoming, angry.

“What?” you questioned, mouth open as you looked at your boyfriend, who held a bitter scowl on his face.

“Playing innocent, I see. Then do tell, what were you doing with that little blonde boy?” he sneered, and your eyes widened; where had warm, loving Cedric, who wanted nothing more than to love you until the world stopped turning, gone?

“Studying, Ced. We were studying, ” you snapped, getting up from your seat on the edge of his bed and nearing him. “What is going on with you?”

“I don't know, maybe I'm upset because my girlfriend, who I assumed was oh-so loyal, is out with a different guy every night-” he made quotation marks with his fingers, “-studying, ”

“You really think I like any of those guys? That I'm flirting with them? Merlin, Cedric, and I thought you were better than this!”

“What, am I not allowed to be angry because the girl I love isn't loyal to me anymore?” Cedric sneered, and you scoffed.

“Y’know, I'm going to leave you here to think about what you just fucking said to me. You know I love you, Cedric, but you're making it hard to right now. Think about what you're accusing me of for a minute, and come back when you're ready to be mature,”

---

The next few days flew by in a blur of heartache, and Cedric’s words echoed in your mind. Was he stupid? Did he really not trust you enough?

Until finally, when you were in the library one day, Cedric’s tall figure approached you. He wore a culpable smile, and you couldn't help but feel bad for him for just a moment until you remembered what he’d said.

“What?” you said, raising an annoyed brow as he sat in the chair beside you.

“I-I...” he stumbled for a moment, looking into your eyes in a feeble attempt to find an ounce of forgiveness, which you were apt to hide from him. “I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry that I didn't trust you, Y/N, I don't-”

“You don't what?” you snapped, clenching your teeth.

“I don't know why I did it. I felt like you were going to-to leave me, and it was shitty, I'm well aware,” he said, smiling abashedly.

“It was, ” you agreed, eyeing him skeptically.

“Is there any way you could forgive me?”

“It’s possible. But that was atrocious, what you did. Come on, do you really think I'd leave you for someone else?” you questioned, shaking your head in disbelief. Cedric looked at his feet.

“How can I make it up to you?” he said after a moment, looking directly into your eyes. You took in a tremulous breath.

“Trust me, Ced. Just trust that I love you, and don't pull that shit again.”

“I can do that.” he agreed, nodding.

“And studying with me wouldn't hurt, ” you added, earning a small laugh from the boy beside you.

[hualianff]

Untethered III 《II》

Hold On – Park Yun Seo

White noise rings through Xie Lian’s ears, replacing the brutal assaults of battle until they fade away into the background. Beads of rain make contact with Xie Lian’s face, soaking his hairline and his clothes. But nothing else matters in this moment besides the ring Crimson Rain holds hostage, away from Xie Lian’s heart.

“It’s common courtesy to answer when someone asks a question, little Prince,” the pirate captain sings, pulling tighter on the ring until the chain feels like it’s going to snap.

“No!” Xie Lian gasps worriedly. His hands fly to grasp the ring, effectively unhooking it from Crimson Rain’s sword, but cutting his right hand in the process. Blood immediately oozes from the small wound, cleansed by the rain and sliding down to splash onto the deck.

Xie Lian grimaces while inspecting his hand. His other palm closes around the ring protectively, pressing the cool surface to his lips. The prince unconsciously closes his eyes, memories flooding his mind, letting through five year’s worth of forbidden euphoria.

He envisions the grungy tavern on the outskirts of the Kingdom of Xianle, where Shi Qingxuan had convinced him to sneak out to explore outside the palace walls. He can taste the muskiness in the air, hear the drunken pandemonium. Shi Qingxuan had eventually gone off to gamble–particularly well-versed in wagering despite being of nobility status–leaving Xie Lian sitting at the bar alone, unsure of what to order.

Xie Lian remembers a mysterious figure taking the seat to his left, draped in a red overcoat with an eyepatch covering his right eye. The stranger did not hesitate to call the bartender over, ordering two beverages with a slight lilt in his baritone voice. Xie Lian awkwardly fixed his gaze onto his glass of iced tap water, hoping his common robes, untied hair, and makeup-less face would go unrecognized.

That, and the fact that he had no experience ordering or drinking alcohol, even at twenty-years-old.

The bartender brought over the eye-patched man’s drinks, setting them down with a thunk! Xie Lian was content to watch for the stranger’s drinking partner from his peripheral vision, perhaps even pick up on how to drink in the proper manner. He would be damned if he didn’t learn one useful thing during this night of freedom.

However, Xie Lian was not prepared for the man to grab one glass and slide it in his direction. Xie Lian froze in his seat, sitting with his back ram-rod straight, hands neatly placed in his lap. Should he kindly refuse the offer? Unsupervised drinking was certainly risky. Or should he take a cautious sip? He would think that was the polite thing to do.

But before Xie Lian could react, the man casually angled his body towards him, leaning his elbow on the bar and propping his face with his palm.

His next words made Xie Lian’s heart come to a complete halt.

“Good evening, Your Highness.”

Xie Lian’s memories abruptly shift, and he is transported to the day when he first saw Ghost Ship. It appeared out of nowhere, easily twice the size of the traveling ship Xie Lian had taken to a neighboring kingdom. When the royal guards jumped to attack, Xie Lian simply held a hand up, stopping them in their tracks.

The prince walked to the side of his ship, assessing the Ghost Ship with keen eyes. Ghost Ship was traveling at a faster speed, quickly passing the royal ship by with no intention of initiating battle. When the better half of its length sailed beyond Xie Lian’s sight, the man steering the wheel came into view. As if in slow motion, Xie Lian locked eyes with the man, who donned familiar red and an eyepatch, and also wore a signature captain’s hat.

A captain. A pirate captain, Xie Lian remembers thinking, captivated by those broad shoulders, tattooed skin, and eccentric clothes. The same pirate captain circles in on him like a hungry shark, scimitar scraping along his arms and back, tearing the drenched fabric of his robes.

“Who knew the Prince of Xianle cares so much for a plain piece of metal?” Crimson Rain continues spitting his words like poison.

Xie Lian curls in on himself, trembling.

When pirates began uncharacteristically wreaking havoc on the docks of Xianle’s ports, Xie Lian often rushed to the scene to fend them off himself. Specifically, a pirate who could give Xie Lian a run for his money when it came to sword fighting, but always escaping with an evil smirk painted across his lips.

When Xie Lian had nearly drowned, those same lips had pressed against his own to breathe air into his lungs.

That had been his first kiss.

A few months later, Xie Lian had snuck out of the palace once again to the very same dock at the end of the port, where a certain pirate awaited him.

The images flitting through his mind now blur together, becoming unrecognizable except for the sensations imprinted on his body.

A warm body claiming him in a king-sized bed, among silken sheets and the pale glow of the moonlight streaming through the window. It was almost too dark to make out the man on top.

Almost.

One lust-filled eye bore down at Xie Lian.

“You like that, Your Highness?” the baritone voice growled into his ear.

Xie Lian hears his answering moan play inside his head and inhales sharply.

Between the secret meetings came secret letters specially addressed to the prince. They appeared with the changing winds, anonymously delivered under the pretense of confidential mail sent from other royalty. But no one could imitate that atrocious handwriting, nor invoke the same joy from Xie Lian when seeing his favorite red, butterfly seal.

Isabella’s Lullaby – Takahiro Obata

“It’s from someone special,” Xie Lian grits out, hanging his head low. The ring–presented to him with the most tender gaze and gentle hands–symbolizes hope. A promise of unconditional love.

“Trust me,” a low whisper ghosted against Xie Lian’s temple. “I’ll come back for you.”

And Xie Lian believed him.

That was one year ago. The spontaneous visits stopped, and so did the carefully crafted letters. With no one to confide in, Xie Lian spiraled down underneath everyone’s expectations and his own realized failure. He had been foolish. Blind. Naive.

Within that one-year period, Xie Lian lost faith.

Not in his love. Never in his love.

But in destiny. In free will. In god.

The one thing, one person, he needed most in this lifetime, was no longer within his reach.

Until now.

“Where will you run now, dear Prince?” Crimson Rain’s voice brings Xie Lian back to the present. His eye holds none of the familiar warmth it once did when he slipped the very same silver ring onto Xie Lian’s finger.

The rumbling and squeaking of footsteps make their way towards the pair, Xie Lian’s royal guards abandoning the protection of the ship to come to their prince’s aid instead. But even as Xie Lian gazes up at Crimson Rain’s, brandishing that strong jaw and classy smirk, the prominent eye patch, and the shimmering eye that radiates insanity, Xie Lian feels a certain sense of peace wash over him.

It’s finally time.

Xie Lian gives the pirate captain a hostile smirk of his own, taking out the white ribbon holding up his hair and letting the rain weigh down his brunet locks.

“Hua Cheng,” Xie Lian croons knowingly, widening his eyes in faux innocence. The instant look of surprise on Crimson Rain’s face is all Xie Lian needs before kicking the pirate’s sword to the side, scattering it a few meters away. Xie Lian dives for the exact sword, adjusting to the new weight and shape of the weapon. His palm throbs where the cut splits further open, blood staining the hilt.

Xie Lian swiftly points the sword at Hua Cheng’s jugular, their positions now switched.

Now, it is the pirates who are yelling chaotically, demanding their captain not let a rotten prince get the best of him. Hua Cheng simply clicks his tongue, signaling his men to retreat.

“Your Highness...” the pirate captain murmurs. Xie Lian digs the sword more insistently into Hua Cheng’s skin, forcing the pirate back. Xie Lian herds him onto the official plank, where traitors are typically executed, sentenced by the prince himself.

“Back. Up,” is all Xie Lian offers bitterly, his long hair curtaining his face, body still tense even though he has the upper hand. Hua Cheng holds his hands up in surrender, his hair drenched with rain, the long braid crooked where it cascades down his right shoulder.

“Xie Lian,” Hua Cheng addresses in a sweeter tone. “My dear Prince, if you could see yourself now.”

Xie Lian swallows thickly.

“You are a beautiful sight,” Hua Cheng rasps out, no more than a whisper. Yet, Xie Lian catches every word, and his heart clenches painfully.

Of course, Hua Cheng would think that.

Xie Lian’s sword wavers, but only because the pouring rain has stolen every bit of warmth as it washes down his body, making him shiver. The prince knows everyone’s attention is on them, the royal guards cheering their prince on in hopes that this conflict will end in their victory.

But they remain unaware of their biggest defeat.

The Prince of Xianle had fallen in love with a pirate.

With an unbearably heavy heart, Xie Lian draws his sword back. Tears leak out of his eyes and stream down his face, mixing in with the rain. In this very moment, Xie Lian feels the most suffocated he’s ever been, and wonders if this is truly what it feels like to be on the brink of death.

As if it happens in slow motion, Xie swings the sword with all the power he possesses. Hua Cheng’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.

“Gege.”

Something inside Xie Lian shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for Xie Lian’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at Xie Lian to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?

The answer is right in front of him.

“I’m back.”

《Bonus I》

[iiwontgiveuponmilkk]

Prison World

Kai Parker x reader

*not my gif

A/n: Soulmate au. I got this idea from two fanfics I read. Currently unedited with a horrible summary :/

Summary: Y/n can’t control her magic and with her link to Kai it doesn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her

Word count: 2259

Warnings: none?

*1994*

Y/n never quite understood the tattoo that magically appeared on her rib cage. Just under her breast was the Gemini symbol and the initials MP in oddly neat writing. It was the mark of her soulmate. The tiny marking made her oddly curious. It wasn’t unusual for supernatural beings to have a soulmate mark. In fact, only the supernatural beings got them, but they rarely showed up at the age she received hers. She was only fifteen when it burned itself into her skin. That night was also the first night she discovered that her magic was beyond her control. The loss of her grandmother nearly flooded Mystic Falls. Twice. So of course, it didn’t take long for the Gemini coven to find her in 1994. The coven had discovered Malachai’s mark before sending him to his personal prison world. All they had to do was wait for another cosmic event to send the twenty year old into the prison world as well. 

Arriving in the prison world felt like she had been sent to hell. Y/n was all alone, and incredibly confused. She searched for hours to find someone. She even went home, but no one was there. Y/n had no idea what was happening. Was she dead? Mystic Falls was completely empty. It was just her, all alone. Y/n was so confused and slowly starting to panic. She searched the house, trying to figure out what had happened. When she entered the kitchen, her attention was immediately drawn to the cup of coffee and the morning paper on the table. Her dad always read the paper before work in the morning. She picked up the paper. May 10th. This paper was over a week old. How could she be here? She began to read through the paper. There would be an eclipse today. She looked up at the clock. It was in exactly two hours. 

*1997*

Living in this world was, well, it was hell. Y/n had spent three years alone. At first, she spent her time trying to figure out why this place had been created, who it was for, and why she was here. She had two leads. One in Mystic Falls. Another in Portland. She spent a lot of time in Mystic Falls. Partially to investigate what happened at the Salvatore boarding house, and partially so she could be close to the only thing she had left. Her family home. But eventually she convinced herself to go to Portland. She was terrified of what, or rather who, she might find there. A part of her knew she would find him there the second she connected the dots. Parker family. Portland, Oregon. Massacre. Her mark.  This world had been created by the gemini coven for Joshua’s son. Malachai Parker, her soulmate. That’s why she was here. Her soulmate had killed four of his siblings. Her soulmate mark had gotten her into this hell. She was stuck here to make sure he could never access the real world.

 Y/n had packed her things and was off to Bell’s for snacks. Then it was off to Portland. She found herself racing across the country in a blue camaro, courtesy of a Bell’s customer who left the keys on the dash. She had a road map with her. She had carefully marked the easiest route from Mystic Falls to Portland. Yet she always found herself lost. Y/n kept missing her exits as her mind raced with what was going to happen to her. What would he do to her? He couldn’t kill her. Well, he could, but she would come back when the world reset. She was worried what he could do if he had magic. If he was stronger than her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. Her four day road trip ended up taking her twice as long. She couldn’t count the number of times she had gotten lost. When she finally arrived in Portland, she pulled into the first gas station she saw. There had to be a map of the town, or at least just the state. She dug through the maps until she found what she was looking for. She began setting up to do a locator spell. She was pulling candles out of her bag when she froze at the sound of the door opening and the bell above it jingling. She slowly stood up, turning to face Malachai. 

“Hi. I’m Kai. I’m a sociopath.” The man smirked at her.

____

When y/n woke up, she was terrified, but nothing was happening. Her magic was gone. She had no idea where she was. The room she was in looked like it belonged to a teenage boy. Y/n turned her attention to herself. Her hair was still wet, but she was in dry clothes. She panicked looking down at the shirt she was wearing. It wasn’t hers, and neither were the sweatpants she was wearing. Had that man changed her clothes? Why did he take her magic? And what did he want with her? Her head was spinning. She had to get out of here. She quietly shuffled to the window and opened it. She tried to pop the screen out, but she had been spelled in. Her heart felt like it was in her throat with how hard it was beating. She slowly made her way to the door, finding that it was unlocked. She was hoping that she hadn’t been spelled into the room, and luckily she hadn’t. But that meant she was spelled into the house, and she didn’t have her magic. She slowly moved through the house, trying her best not to make any noise. She was almost down the stairs when the next step loudly creaked. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard footsteps approaching. “G-get away.” She stuttered out. Y/n felt hopeless without her magic. Kai stopped in his tracks, looking at her. He almost found her state comical. He knew he wouldn’t have stopped if he hadn’t seen her soulmate mark. His initials. His handwriting. His “coven”. He put his hands up, sighing almost as if he was annoyed by her behaviour. Y/n stared at this man, her voice caught in her throat. Neither of them moved for what seemed like hours. Finally she spoke up. “Why did you take my magic?” Her voice was quiet and still seemed panicked. “Well, you see, I don’t have any magic of my own. And you seemed to be bursting with it so I thought I’d take some. I know, what an abomination.” He rolled his eyes, but then continued. “Your magic will be back before you know it. You’ll be all juiced up after you rest.” Kai seemed to be bored with her. “You know, I was going to keep you here as a little magic battery, but then i saw your little mark and I had to laugh.” He chuckled, his eyes never leaving her. Y/n felt like she was frozen in place. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. “The universe is so funny. Of course my soulmate would be someone who is overflowing with magic when I don’t have any of my own. And of course my coven would send you here. God, how dumb could they be.”

*2003*

Y/n had come to know Kai in ways that she didn’t think she could. She knew what he had done to his family. He was sent here to be punished for his crimes. She was sent here due to their soulmate mark and bond. She didn’t think she could grow to trust the monster she had met in 1997. She didn’t think she could ever think of him as anything but a monster, but here they were. Kai was making Christmas dinner with her sitting on the counter, and definitely in his way, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Over the past six years, y/n had learned of Kai’s past. How his family treated him for being a siphon, something out of his control. How he was seen and treated as an abomination. How he wasn’t allowed to touch anyone for his entire life. Her heart almost aches for him. A part of her could understand him, but another part, in the back of her head, clung to the fact he had done atrocious and unspeakable things. Yet she still found herself climbing into his bed when she couldn’t sleep, holding his hand when she was starting to lose control, and even almost kissing him on multiple occasions. “You know, I’m starving.” She spoke up, looking up from her book. The aroma in the kitchen was causing her to salivate. “Dinner will be done in thirty minutes. Please don’t get hangry. I’ll have to restart the whole meal if you bring this house down on us.” He joked, causing her to glare at him.

Y/n laughed at the sight before her. Kai asked if he could “borrow” some of her magic to do the dishes. She agreed, knowing it would at least be amusing to watch. And it was. It was also an absolute mess. Kai had dropped multiple dishes, shattering them. Only uttering a small “oops” each time before trying to concentrate on his task. He loved hearing her laugh, and as much as he hated to admit it, he loved being around her. He wasn’t sure why his coven had sent her here, he knew it wasn’t for him. They probably thought locking her away was the only way to make sure he never got out. He stopped wondering why she was here two years ago. That was the first time that he opened up to her. He had chosen to basically ignore her for a long time, but she almost brought a house down on them with an earthquake, crying that she felt so alone and just wished she was dead. He tried to blame the mark for how he felt about her after he started to grow close to her, but he knew that wasn’t true. Some people live their entire lives without finding their soulmate. Some supernatural beings never even got one. Some got them after being alive for three hundred years. It wasn’t the mark, but he just wanted something to blame for these feelings he was having. Kai could barely believe someone could know what he was and not think he was an abomination. But there she was, laughing as he failed at washing dishes with magic.

“You know, I got you something for Christmas.” Y/n mumbled, pressed to his side and wrapped in a blanket with him. They were sitting outside, star gazing. Y/n had wanted to sit outside and look at the stars every Christmas night. Last year, she finally told Kai that her and her parents used to do this every Christmas after everyone had finally left to go home. “I thought you said no presents?” He asked, lightly squeezing her to his side. “We both know what I said and what I meant are two different things.” She laughed, pulling herself away from him. She reached into her sweater pocket, handing him a small box that was delicately wrapped in red paper with green ribbon and a bow. Kai took it from her, opening it carefully. She watched him, almost impatiently. He could tell; the closer they got, the stronger their bond seemed to be. He opened the small decorative box to find a black velvet ring box. He smirked, cracking the box open. There was a silver ring with a hollowed line around the band. “Are you asking me to marry you?” He asked, making her laugh. “Oh god, Kai. It’s a present, not a marriage proposal. Besides that’s your job.” Y/n rolled her eyes, glaring at Kai in a playful way. He laughed and slipped it onto his middle finger before he reached into the pocket of his jeans. “I didn’t wrap it, but I did get you something.” He told her as he pulled a delicate necklace out of his pocket. He put the necklace on her without giving her a chance to look at it. He brushed her hair out from under the chain as she picked the pendant up off her chest, admiring it. There was a (f/c) gemstone in the middle surrounded by an elegant halo of diamonds. It was small, but beautifully full of detail. “Thank you.” Y/n whispered.

*2007*

“Malachai Parker! If you’re joking right now, I will kill you.” Y/n said, staring down at Kai who was down on one knee, holding a ring in his hand. “I’m not, y/n! God! Will you marry me or not?!” She could feel how nervous he was. His energy seemed to be pulsing through her, almost making her nervous. “Stop being so nervous. Of course I will.” She laughed as he jumped to his feet, planting his lips on hers, and kissing her hard. When they finally pulled away for air, Kai rested his forehead against hers before grabbing her hand. He slid the ring onto her ring finger before kissing her again.

[shanedawsonsfanfics]

Byakuya Togami x Fem!Reader Nsfw

Content Includes; nsfw, degrading, afab reader, drugging, noncon, Byakuya Togami

Early this morning as you got ready to head to the cafeteria to meet the others, you noticed a piece of neatly folded paper in front of your door. A note someone must have slid through from the other side.

You pick it up and examine its contents.

In fancy writing, it read "I require assistance in the office, We will meet promptly after the morning announcement. I advise you be discreet"

Very blunt and to the point. Although there was no name, you knew exactly who called for you.

But why would Togami, as brilliant as he is, need help from you?

Your mind begins to rack up what could possibly be his intention. To kill you?

If so, the others would obviously know as you both would be the ones missing from the cafeteria. You knew the Ultimate Affluent Progeny was not that ignorant. Perhaps he truly needed your help, given his straightforward attitude.

You decided you would go, but would be sure to take caution. It must be something important, maybe he knew a way to escape.

You made your way through the dorm hall and spot Kyoko. She was leaning on the edge of the wall, seemingly lost in thought.. You acknowledged her intelligence and her great support during the class trials. Telling her about your whereabouts would ensure that if something were to happen, she would easily solve the trial.

"Hey Kyoko!" You wave. She responds with nothing but a glance to you, her expression like stone.

"I just wanted to let you know ill be absent during the daily meeting in the cafeteria… Togami seems to need my help…"

You give her grave look and her bright purple irises bore into yours. Her expression changed and showed subtle hints of worry.

The air grows cold and silent. She finally nods in understanding. "I will be sure to remember" Is all she says.

Nobody else greeted you on your way to the office. You twist open the door and was greeted by the cool dust filled atmosphere. It smelt of old wood and parchment.

Byakuya was sitting in the desk, a letter in his hand. He showed no reaction to your presence. You cleared your throat

"H-hey I got your note…"

Silence.

A slight squeak of his chair filled the room as he sat up straight in the chair, still reading the letter. "Come here" he says.. and you obliged, standing to his side, squinting to read the paper.

You were very close to him, and the smell of cologne and clean fabric filled your nose. You felt a little light headed, being so close to him. "This handwriting is absolutely atrocious, perhaps a commoner as yourself would have more luck understanding these childish scribbles"

You ignore his backhanded compliment and eye the letter. Instantly recognizing the handwriting as undeniably your own. Your heart sinks as every word written processed in your head.

When did you write this? This was surely your handwriting, but the words… Your face felt hot all of a sudden and your legs wobbled…

Byakuya notices your eyes skimming the paper and he raises his voice in annoyance "read it aloud"

You shake your head no… there was no way you could… You slowly move away from him until he grabs you by the hem of your skirt.

"Read it now"

He roughly pulls you even closer than before to him. Now holding you by the waist he snuck a leg between your own, locking you in place and ensuring you couldn't walk away. His grip was firm as you struggled to be free.

"It appears you have no other options now, I suggest you stop writhing like a filthy pig and begin"

He spoke with poison and his nails dragged into your skin through your clothes.

Your heart pounded, in fear, shame, and embarrassment.

"My s-stomach gets full of butterflies when I see to-togami around school"

You could see Togami smirk in the corner of your eye "wig! such a scandal" he says.

You gulp.. his skin dug deeper into your sides. He picks up where u left off

"I wonder what Togami thinks about, what does he jack off to?" He says in a sarcastic voice. "I wonder how he would react if I told him all the fowl thoughts that consume my mind when he is near"

Your face flushes and with a sudden burst of energy u begin to squirm again. Successfully breaking free you get up and scurry to the door. Togami grabs the back of your collared shirt and throws u against the desk before you can make it. "You are so irritating" he says as he pushes his weight on top of you, making you almost completely immobile besides your writhing arms on either side of his body. Your stomach and heart began to swell full of butterflies just like in the letter. He pulls you in for a deep, forceful kiss. "TEA" Togami says angrily. You refused to reciprocate. Togami suddenly bit down on your lip with a force that made tears pick in the corners of your eyes. As the stinging of your lip clouded you're mind you felt Togami pull away. "Your breathe is disgusting. SAME!!!"

He clicks his tongue.

Your mind begins to draw blank and you feel quite dizzy.

You close your eyes, attempting to relieve this sickening feeling. As you open them you can't help but feel like something is off…

Everything felt hazy, and confusing.

"Hello sister??? U still there? We haven't even gotten to the fun part ;("

Shane says looking down at you as his body is practically touching yours. You can feel his sweat make its way through his shirt and into the cloth of yours. A giant wet spot right between your chest.

"You look so nice kitten *Clicks tongue*

He says in a playful tone.

"I cant wait to cum all over you"

Shane begins to unbutton your shirt. His big, sweaty hands reaching for the newly revealed skin. Making sure to moisten every part of your body with the vast amount of sweat he creates. Seriously…. Whats his problem? You try to speak, to scream. But nothing comes out. Your throat clenches on its words and your mouth was desert dry.

"T-togami?" You say hoarsely in confusion.. you felt all your energy drain from saying his name. Togami… where did he go? As much as you pretended to hate what was happening, you truly wished he would embrace you with intimacy.

What was happening.. who is this man?

Where did Togami go?

"Aw I guess the drugs have'nt worn off yet isn't that tea. Idk who this 'Toe-gamee' guy is but you got someone better! Hey whats up! Yes! I'm shane dawson!"

He says beginning to unpants you. Your mind was barely processing any of this. You tried to fight him off of you but it seemed as though your body was made of jello… You could not move at all. You felt so powerless under this man's grasp. He seemed terrifying, he wreaked of stench, and his touches against your skin felt like knives.

Tears dropped down your face as you felt him drag his hand from your now bare chest to your abdomen. "This is where I'm gonna cum later ;)" he says… his hand left a visible grease trail on your body. You close your eyes as hard as you can. Please let this stop… please togami save me…

Togami would not be coming for you. Nobody would… you'd remain locked up in shane dawson's recording room forever being his kitten. And to set the record straight he very much did cum on his precious cat. Many times.. and you hated every moment of it.

[ghostbasedusername]

prompt 66 with deimos and 2bdamned, "your handwriting is atrocious."

Deimos peered over at the chicken scratch that was 2BDamned's notes from the man's shoulder, who tried his best not to show mind for the grunt overshadowing his every move. He came into the office some time ago, unable to go on a mission since his wrist had decided to be sore for no reason, to which the doctor had instructed him to stay home and put a brace on it, since he did not trust the fool not to agitate it further. He found himself regretting this decision later, however only slightly, since, when the clone was alone, he got very bored and was practically attracted to any life form in the building. He was quiet for once, though, for which 2B was grateful.

The shorter of the two only made a few remarks, most of the time very astute observations and things he would pick up on at random. "Your writing is atrocious." Like that.

Doc grunted, putting down the ball-tip pen he had just used to write with. He knew his handwriting was less than favorable, thank you very much, and although he could barely read it himself at times, he definitely did not take too kindly to being insulted. However, because Deimos had actually been relatively not as ear-grating as usual, he decided to try and not sass him. At least, not too much.

"I didn't learn to write, Deimos," 2BDamned said matter-of-factly, sitting back in his chair. "They did not teach a lick of literature to any grunts if not necessary. I was just a medic, only supposed to heal and nothing else. I didn't need to write, they could care less about logs and dates." If the doctor truly thought about it, it might be the reason he's so adamant on things being just the way it needed to be in his head; he had such little control of anything, that when he finally dissented and had all that and more, it made it easier to indulge in his more compulsory behavior. Deimos looked over him quietly.

"Sometimes, I forget you're a clone, too," he said after a long pause, almost sadly, and Doc could not help but quirk a brow at that. Guess he also forgot Deimos was a clone. Deimos was meant to protect his base and kill whoever was necessary to do it, but what had begun his dissent wasn't some traumatic experience or a big, eye opening moment, it was just... coding. A simple,  little thing, a small interest that the A.A.H.W. refused to give him the liberty to pursue whenever he asked.

And so, Deimos learned to read, write, and code through sneaking glimpses at papers and screens from agents of a higher intelligence, even, at one point, snagging a junky laptop they had thrown away. He ended up patching it up, starting his cycle of practicing every night he could. That was, until they found out and tried to blow his brains out there on the spot, suspecting he might be trying to dissent. He certainly was forced to, in that situation. Deimos could never forget all that occurred in that moment.

"Huh," Doc begins quietly, "Well, maybe you should try to remember next time."

The hacker could only nod.