#which was all of 3 so restarting wasn’t too hard at least

[lionhanie]

beautiful stranger (park sungho)

a beautiful stranger has come to save the day!

sungho x gn!reader (college au) 

word count: 4.5k 

genre + warnings: one (1) pinch of angst, cursing, written in all lowercase, a really really really bad date (it’s a random dude dw), sungho is pining badddd!

a/n: biggest sungho brainrot in the woooorrrrld!!!!!shoutout my babygirl jas for giving me the inspo for this <3 (and beta reading as always :3) this was heavily based on beautiful stranger by laufey!  i'd suggest listening to it before/while reading ^_^

dating felt like a hassle. it wasn’t that you weren’t looking for a relationship– if anything, you were more of a hopeless romantic than anything else. pinterest boards full of couple poses you only dreamt of remaking with your partner when you finally had the opportunity to, a page in your notes app dedicated to sweet date ideas, countless playlists full of love songs you’d want to be posted to one day. instead, each failed date chipped away the hope you once held about being in love. 

it was hard to blame yourself for the disappointment you felt every time you had to restart the cycle of getting to know a potential love interest. how many times could you talk about trivial matters you’ve discussed with people who ultimately end up leaving your life? what’s your favorite color? do you have any pets? did you play any sports in high school? it was repetitive, redundant, and utterly boring, to say the least. 

living in a college town didn’t help either. college students seemed to thrive on the idea of a temporary fling– something “casual” is what they liked to call it. you, on the other hand, could not fathom the idea of love being “casual”. relationships seemed to work backwards; it was nothing like what you grew up seeing in the movies. hooking up amidst a drunken haze, waking up the next morning with fuzzy memories of the person you shared an intimate night with. only then do people decide whether or not their one-night-stands are “worth” getting to know properly. everything was so… wrong. 

coming to university made you realize that trying to perpetuate your idea of romance would be difficult, especially when nobody seemed to take anything seriously anymore. but the hopeless romantic in you would never back down– you were determined to experience something at least remotely similar to the type of love you saw on TV in your last years as a student. so here you were, all dolled up, waiting to meet a guy you’ve been talking to for the past two weeks.

you met on a dating app, having swiped right after laughing at one of his prompts. sometimes, you were ashamed to admit you even bothered making a profile, but it felt like your last resort at this point. his name was minwoo, a graphic design major just one year above you. strictly based on his profile, he seemed sweet. unlike many others you’ve seen on the app, his pictures weren’t too flashy. almost too normal, even. your conversations were surprisingly more mentally stimulating than you’d expected from a dating app, which gave you some hope. at least he was capable of talking to someone like a normal human being, right? 

minwoo asked you on a date soon after you first exchanged numbers, but schedule conflicts on both ends kept pushing it further and further away. despite all the obstacles, he still seemed interested. this was uncommon amongst the men you met on there, finding that most of them would ghost you if you weren’t willing to come see them merely days after matching. probably just losers looking for a quick hook-up. maybe this time, the dating-app gods decided it was time to give you someone good. 

you agreed to meeting him only after making sure it would take place in the middle of the day in a public location on campus, where you knew it’d be safe. minwoo didn’t seem to mind, rather going along with whatever you said without complaint. you suggested a bakery that you frequented– the location was popular among students for their cheap drinks and cozy atmosphere that made a perfect spot to settle down and study for hours. being a regular there meant you were familiar with the workers, which gave you comfort knowing you had a familiar face nearby in case the date went south. 

you’re pleased to see other familiar faces when you first walk through the bakery’s entrance– finding strangers you’ve seen before doing work on their laptops or enjoying an afternoon pastry. you got there 10 minutes earlier than your set meeting time, in an attempt to avoid an awkward meeting outside. first dates always make you nervous; not to mention the fact that this was a stranger you found on a dating app. what if you’re nothing like your pictures? will the conversations flow as well as they do through text? hell, what if you got catfished? 

you push away your thoughts, regaining your composure as you take out a compact mirror from your bag to retouch your makeup. each time the chime above the door jingled, you found yourself turning to see if it was minwoo. it was now 2:13pm, almost fifteen minutes after you agreed to meet. you place your hands neatly in your lap, observing your surroundings briefly. 

you share a fleeting moment of eye contact with a man by himself at a table by the wall, holding his page in the novel he was holding. you recognized him as another regular, having seen him occasionally when you’d stop by for a coffee. he was wearing a denim baseball hat, which covered most of his face. he gives you a small smile, but you pull your gaze away quickly. you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at the fact that you were sitting alone in the middle of the store, sitting at an empty table because you refrained from ordering something before minwoo got there. 

truthfully, sungho had seen you there before. to him, you were nothing more than a beautiful stranger, one he had the pleasure of seeing more often than not when he would show up to his local bakery. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t look forward to the chance of seeing you every time he came in, sometimes even going as far to dress a little better if he felt like you’d be there that day. he was a bit shy to admit that he’d memorized your order with how often you showed up, hearing the baristas call out the drink and watching you pick it up. even he thought it was a little creepy, but it’s not like he’d ever act on his attraction, right? 

hm, maybe they’re waiting for someone? sungho thinks to himself, completely forgetting about the book he was previously reading. makes sense for someone as breathtaking as you to be in a relationship. he finds himself a bit disappointed as he sinks into his seat slightly. he’s brought out of his thoughts as the familiar bells above the door ring again, signaling a new customer. a sleazy looking guy walks in, and he watches as you perk up at the sight. that’s the guy you’re meeting? sungho’s annoyed at the way your date is dressed in sweatpants and a worn out band tee when your hair is done to perfection to match the cute outfit you had on. 

you promptly stand up as minwoo looks around the bakery for where you were, motioning for him to come over to your table. you feel a bit overdressed now that you see what he’s wearing. once he sees you, he smiles as he gives you an awkward side hug. first dates are always awkward like this, you shouldn’t mark it off as a disaster just yet. 

“it’s nice to finally meet you, yunjin!” what? 

“ah, it’s Y/N, actually.” you awkwardly laugh, hoping he was just making an off- putting joke. surely he wouldn’t get your name wrong.

“pfft, yeah i was just kidding! yunjin’s my mom’s name.” you raise your eyebrow at the comment, finding it weird to think that he’d go on a date with someone with the same name as his mother. “is this place any good?” 

“yeah! i go here a lot, actually. they make all the pastries in the back, so you know they’re gonna be tasty.” minwoo merely nods at your comment, walking over to the counter to order. you follow behind him, looking at all the cake slices on display once you get there. 

you smile at the person behind the register. they give you a quizzical look, side-eyeing the guy next to you. you were normally alone, so it was odd to see someone with you this time around. you shrug nonchalantly and hold in a giggle, glad that minwoo was too busy looking at the menu to see your interaction. 

“i’ll have an iced coffee… and get me one of those croissants over there.” minwoo orders rudely, speaking too fast for the worker to tap in the order on the screen. you watch as they frantically press buttons on the screen, waiting for them to finish before you say your regular order. 

once the barista looks up at you, you open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off. “and for you, a small caramel macchiato, right?” you beam back at them, finding it sweet to think they know your order by heart. 

“you got it! i think that’ll be it for us today, thank you!” the total shows up on the small screen in front of you, card reader lighting up as it waits for payment. you turn to look at your date, expecting him to pull out his wallet to pay, but his hands are resting firmly in his pockets as he looks around the rest of the bakery. you send a sorry look to the worker for the hold-up before you take your card from your purse and tapping it on the reader. it’s not that you cared much about who paid, but rather the fact that he didn’t even try to do so rubbed you the wrong way. 

“thank you! we’ll bring it to you once it’s done.” minwoo’s already on his way back to the table before the receipt is printed. your lips pursed as you take the piece of paper and shove it into your purse, thanking the worker once more.

sungho can’t help but notice the way you look defeated as you walk back to the table alone. maybe it isn’t your boyfriend. what kind of man makes you pay on a date? he scoots his chair a bit closer to your table, glad he was sitting somewhat close to yours. a little eavesdropping wouldn’t hurt anyone. he was just curious, that’s all. 

“sorry, i left my wallet at my dorm.” minwoo explains to you sheepishly. first, he shows up late without apology or explanation. next, you’re called the wrong name. then, he makes you pay for his order. it can only get better from here, right? 

“ah, it’s no worries!” you lie– everything he’s done so far has done nothing but raise red flags in your head, but you remain optimistic. you place your hands on the table, waiting for him to start up the conversation… except, he doesn’t. instead, he’s on his phone tapping away, presumably texting someone. it must be urgent if he needs to reply right then and there, right in front of you. 

you clear your throat, which makes him look up from his screen. “so, you’re in graphic design right?” it’s a topic you didn’t discuss much in your texts, so you felt like it would be a good way to break the ice. 

“eh, yeah. honestly, it’s kind of a joke major,” he comments dryly. his attention is entirely on his phone. 

“what made you pick it then?” you’re desperately trying to keep up the topic. 

“well, my friend said it was easy. plus, i play a lot of video games so i thought it’d be pretty cool.” he picked his major… because it was easy? minwoo continues texting away, when suddenly he scoffs at what he’s reading. “gosh, this bitch…” 

you’re completely flabbergasted at this point. “excuse me?” is he talking to you? sungho’s equally as shocked at his words, letting out a gasp when he hears what minwoo said. 

“sorry, my sister’s just asking me to pick up something on my way home.” 

“oh, i see.” now would be a good time for your drinks to arrive– you weren’t sure what to say anymore. if anything, you weren’t sure if you wanted to keep up a conversation with someone who spoke about his family in such a way. “...i thought you said you lived in the dorms, though?” 

“ah, did i? i live at home with my family.” you tilt your head at him in confusion. you were certain he said he lived in the dorms just seconds ago. it was a weird thing to lie about. why bluff about something so trivial? 

“here are your drinks!” a different worker from before comes up to your table with a tray, placing your order in the middle of the table. minwoo immediately reaches for his own, drinking from the straw before gagging at the taste. 

“hey, this is so bitter. is this how you guys normally make it?” the boy is clearly flustered, looking back and forth between you two. “there’s no way this place takes that long to make an iced coffee if it tastes like this!” you notice the way he’s struggling to answer minwoo’s outburst. 

sungho rolls his eyes. he hasn’t looked at his book in ages, finding your date far more interesting. has this douche never been to a coffee shop before?

“it’s supposed to be like that, yeah. we have sugar in the corner for customers to adjust the sweetness themselves.” the worker explains calmly, motioning to the coffee station by the garbage. he was one of the newer hires, but he resolved the situation well. 

minwoo takes his drink, clearly annoyed as he goes to add sugar. you quickly apologize for his behavior once he’s gone, and the worker gives you a face of understanding before taking the tray back to the kitchen. 

you take a sip from your own drink, finding it made to perfection, as usual. even when you first tried their iced coffee, you can’t recall it being that bad. at least, not gross enough to make a scene. glancing at your watch, you noticed it’s only been twenty minutes since minwoo arrived. it felt like you were there for hours– in the worst way possible. 

minwoo returns to his seat, seemingly satisfied with his coffee now. “i can’t believe they sell shit like this. what’s the point of buying it if i have to make it myself?” he was so… pretentious. it was annoying. 

“i mean, not everyone likes their drinks sweet, so i think it makes sense-” 

minwoo puts his hand in front of your face to shut you up. “well, i do. they should just do it right the first time.” 

you lean back, shocked at the way he nearly hit you with his movements. “it’s not like they know how your preferences.”

“jesus Y/N, you sound like my ex right now!”

“...your ex?” maybe you weren’t the most well-versed when it came to dating, but you knew better than to mention other people to the person you were currently talking to. 

“yeah, my ex was like, batshit crazy. she would always be on my ass about how often i’d go out to the bars with my friends, it was ridiculous! a guy just needs to have fun sometimes, right?” there wasn’t anything explicitly wrong with wanting to go party with your friends, but why did he need to do all that if he was in a relationship? to you, it felt like a valid thing to be angry about. if it was something severe enough for her to lash out on him like that, it must’ve been serious. you can’t find it in you to blame the poor girl, especially if she had to put up with his immaturity all the time.

you don’t have anything to say as you swirl the drink around in your cup, watching as the foam on top melts into the rest of it. this was a disaster. you should’ve known something was wrong with the way minwoo felt like an entirely different person upon meeting. he was nothing like the seemingly kind boy you were texting for the past two weeks. 

suddenly, his phone vibrates on the table. he quickly picks it up before you can see who’s calling, already out of his chair. “sorry, i need to answer this– it’s my sister. i’ll be right back.” minwoo unlocks his phone to answer, his tone much sweeter than it was when he was speaking to you. 

you watch as he walks out the door to take the call outside. suspicion brewed in your gut as you think about what just happened. earlier, he was cursing out his sister, but now he’s smiling on the phone with her? something told you it wasn’t actually his sister calling. 

sungho doesn’t know what gets into him when he finds himself springing to his feet, heading over to your table. in a time like this, he’s grateful that he managed to pick up on your name thanks to the workers. “Y/N, right? this probably isn’t my place, but are you dating that guy?”

you immediately shake your head no, almost disgusted at the thought of being in a relationship with someone like minwoo. 

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s obnoxiously loud. if the music was any quieter, everyone could hear the way he’s acting like an asshole.” your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, thankful that most of the people in there were too focused with their own business to listen in on your horrendous date. 

“yeah, he’s definitely… something. it’s my first time meeting this guy, sorry to bother you over there.” you bow your head slightly, flustered to think that you were burdening one of the regulars by bringing your no-good-date to your favorite bakery.

“it’s your first time meeting and he’s like that?” the stranger lets out a huff of disbelief. “you’re free to say no, but… do you need help? i can pretend to be your friend or something so we can get out of here.” his eyes are full of concern. you’re taken aback at the stranger’s act of kindness, but thankful nonetheless. 

“i’m alright, i think. he was a lot nicer over text, so maybe he just needs to warm up to me or something?” 

the man’s displeased with your response; he would’ve rather you walk out on the date right there. “...okay. i’m sungho, by the way. my seat’s just over there, so just give me a look if you need saving.” sungho returns to his table, looking at you before he picks up his book again and pretends to read. 

“listen, she really wants me to come home soon, so i might have to leave in an hour or so.” one more hour spent with this weirdo. you don’t think you could last another ten minutes. 

“that’s fine, i understand it’s something important!” you’re unsure how you maintain such a cheerful act when it feels like your date lied about who he was on the phone with just moments ago. 

“so, are you doing anything later?” he places his phone face down on the table before leaning back in his chair. this was the first time his attention is entirely on you, but after everything you’ve seen, you’re immediately turned off. 

“probably going to work on some papers i have coming up, i’m pretty swamped right now when it comes to my assignments.” you didn’t actually have anything urgent you needed to work on, but you didn’t want to make yourself available for whatever he was about to propose.

“that’s a shame. i was planning on going out to the new club that opened a couple streets down,” minwoo pouts at you, making you groan in disgust internally. “you’re nice and all, but i can’t help thinking about what you’d really be like once you got some alcohol in ya!” 

“oh… what’s wrong with the way i’m acting now?” 

“well, not that there’s anything bad about you, you just seem a bit… uptight! i was just saying you need to loosen up bit. maybe all that coursework has you pent up, if you know what i mean.” you shiver at his implications. minwoo places his sweaty fingers atop yours, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand. you try to pull away, but he keeps his grip firm as he smirks at you. 

you quickly glance over to sungho, finding that he was already looking at you, waiting for your signal of help. you bite your lip slightly before giving him a small nod. sungho takes his hat off, finally giving you a proper look at him as he runs his hand into his hair. he’s quick to close his book and tuck it under his arm, making his way over to your table in a few long strides. 

“Y/N? what are the chances i run into you here!” he sounds genuinely happy to see an old friend, placing his palm on your shoulder reassuringly as he takes his place beside you. sungho’s so good at the bit, you’re convinced he might be an acting major. “actually, leehan said he found your lab report in the library just now. didn’t we need to turn that in yesterday?” his words are urgent as he shows you random messages on his phone. it was leehan who he was texting, but the contents of their messages weren’t remotely related to his made-up story. 

“fuck, i totally forgot about that,” you place your hand on your forehead, feigning stress over your fake lost assignment. “minwoo, it’s been really nice meeting you, but my entire grade relies on getting that report in, so i might have to leave earlier than expected…”

“oh, really? i haven’t turned in any of my assignments in weeks!” you hold yourself back from rolling your eyes; of course he was a shitty student to top it all off. he was probably on the verge of getting kicked out for his bad habits. 

“Y/N, leehan just said he needs to go to class soon, we might want to go now before he has to leave.” 

“shit, actually?” sungho nods eagerly, making it seem like you urgently need to leave. “i’m so sorry about this minwoo, i should get going.”

“okay, i’ll text you later then?” you hum in response, grabbing your belongings as sungho is practically pushing you away from the table and towards the exit. he holds the door open for you as you step outside, heading in the opposite direction of the store. 

“are you really going to text him later?” sungho’s walking beside you as you count the cracks in the sidewalk. 

you let out a pitiful laugh at the silly question. “god, no. there’s no way i’m going to be in contact with that freak any time soon.” 

“good. anyone could see he was a piece of shit.” his words stung a bit; you felt humiliated. to think that you genuinely thought minwoo might be your chance at a college romance, yet you needed to be saved by a stranger. your judge of character might be worse than you think.

you find yourself at a nearby park far away from the bakery, sitting idly at the swingset. your savior is still with you, an empty swing between you as he kicks the pebbles on the ground. you’re not sure why he’s still there, but you’re comforted by his company in the aftermath. 

why is dating so hard? you curse yourself for not seeing this outcome sooner. there really wasn’t any way you could’ve predicted minwoo would act like that– in a way, it feels like your fault. maybe you weren’t the type of person people would want to date. maybe there was no chance of you finding someone good to settle down with before you graduated. did it have to do with you? maybe it wasn’t the dating culture holding you back. you don’t know why your eyes begin to well up, but you stifle back your sniffles as a tear falls into your lap. 

sungho immediately picks up on your emotions. he doesn’t normally know what to do in situations like this, but he’s sure he wants to comfort you. “hey, hey… are you crying?” he moves to kneel down in front of you. 

he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, offering it out to you. you quickly take it, looking away as you dab at your eyes. “fuck, this is so embarrassing.” you force out a laugh, trying to make light of the situation.

“it’s not embarrassing,” sungho pauses for a moment as he thinks about what to say. “sometimes people don’t turn out to be how you think they are.” sungho wants to slap himself for struggling to find the words he wants to tell you.

“i guess, but i’m sitting here crying in front of a stranger.” you look down at him, feeling small despite the fact that he was on the ground in front of you now.

“i’d like for us to be friends, at least.” you giggle at his comment, giving him a nod of agreement. 

“maybe this is a sign for me to give up.” your words are full of defeat. 

sungho’s confused from the lack of context. “give up?”

“give up on love. i don’t know why i thought i could find something on a dating app, for god’s sake. i guess it’s just not for me.” sungho knows whats he wants to say now. he wants to tell you you’re beautiful. he wants to tell you that you deserve to be treated well. he wants to tell you that anyone would be stupid to give up the opportunity to love you. 

he knows he shouldn’t say all that, at least not now. “would you give it one more chance? y’know, if the opportunity ever showed up.” 

“yeah, if that ever happened. i’m starting to feel like a lost cause here, sungho.” you scoff. after so many failed encounters with love, you felt like it was time for you to take a break.  “you’re acting like the right person is going to magically show up in front of me.”

there’s silence in the air between you as the leaves rustle the trees above. “this might be the worst possible time to do this, but would you let me take you out on a date, Y/N?”

...part two? (i have ideas for it already. Plz lmk if u guys GAF.)

taglist: @onedoornet @minwrlds @serejae @loserlvrss @gluion

© lionhanie 2024 ; all rights reserved!

[vialae]

was tagged by @vestigialpersonality for WIP Whenever!! (tyvm xx)

a few people have already seen a bunch of this fic already, but (i think) this is a piece of it i havent yet shared!! gortash has only just become archduke/kai has only just returned and gortie is yearning hard :)

Tagging @rinwellisathing @abyssalaerlocke and anybody else who would like to do it!! <3

Another small nod as flaming eyes looked back down over the parchment. 

The gaze of Bane’s Chosen did not waver. Smiling behind his goblet, he studied the Bhaalspawn’s handsome face as he read.

Gortash longed to kiss him. To wrap his arms around him tightly, prove once and for all he really was there again. If he could, he would take his darling home and feed him the food he deserved rather than whatever slop he had been scraping by on during his adventure. He would lead him up to bed and hold him; revel in the comforting warmth that two bodies provided whilst under heavy covers. 

If he could have him right now, he would have the best sleep since he first disappeared. He would finally be able to piece parts of his heart back together.

But he couldn’t.

The tiefling before him had changed. Kaidos considered him a stranger; strict allies and nothing more. But this wasn’t the first time they had been in this predicament together. This time, Gortash had the advantage. 

He knew what made Kaidos tick. 

He knew which foods he enjoyed, which wines he would bother to savour, how he preferred his clothes to fit him. He knew to tread lightly when discussing Bhaal, and he was certain that not even a blade to the brain would have changed how resolute he was in his faith. 

Yes, their relationship was restarting from square one, but it shouldn’t be too hard to get it back to at least something similar to what it was before. Gortash might as well have the cheat sheet for how to get for how to snag a particular Bhaalspawn.If he wasn’t so busy and so close to such a momentous step within their plans, he may have even enjoyed being faced with such a task. The two had been together for so long they had become used to it. Gortash was somebody who had revelled in the chase of courting an individual so theoretically unattainable. The will-they-won’t-they each time they had been in a room alone together, plotting and planning their visions for the future and how to turn it into reality. Gortash fondly remembered the times he would make hints; a brush of the hand as they poured over the same blueprints, an accidental bump of their bodies as Gortash had squeezed past him in a tight space. The way Kaidos had reacted then had been difficult to read, but he knew what to look for this time.

[ghostlee]

Could you draw Scarian tickles? Scar tickling Grian's lower tummy from behind maybe

Thanks for feeding us anons <3

I had just finished writing the fic that was supposed to be a reply to this ask before realizing that they asked for me to “draw” it.

So um, I will likely draw it too but have a fic of this for now lmaoo.

Thanks Anon <3

Lee!Grian

Ler!GoodTimesWithScar

———

The Challenge

By GhostleeTickles

1803 Words

———

Nothing had been going right today for the shorter parrot boy. Grian sighed as he watched the build he was restarting for for 5th time come toppling back down. He just couldn’t understand what was wrong… He was.. naturally gifted in building but he was seemingly having an off day. Maybe he lacked the balance today to get his blocks to stay in place. Perhaps he didn’t get enough sleep and he’s just psyching himself out. But whatever was up, needed to stop.

He once again started lifting the blocks into place, thankfully the last build didn’t get to big before it toppled, so he wasn’t THAT far behind. Yet the situation still annoyed him.

Lifting up yet another block into place he had to stand on his tippy toes to shove it into place before it locked in. He had to wait at least 30 seconds of holding it down exactly where it needed to be for the block to stick. However as soon as the player came in contact with the block again and pushed a little to hard it unlock, which is the issue he was having.

He now had to lift a block up even higher, stretching his arms up over his head waiting the duration for it to lock. When suddenly hands grabbed him from behind as fingers wiggled into his sides.

Grian violently jumped almost dropping the block before he realized and shoved his arms back up to hold it in place. “H-HEY!! Whahahat was that??“ Grian yelled, unable to turn around to find his offender. “Hiiii Griannn-“ Scar sang out and poked his fingers lightly and quickly into Grians sides causing the man to bend his knees down trying to move away and sweet giggles coming out of the boy. “Scaahahahhaarrr stohohohp!!”

Grian fought to keep the block over his head taking priority on it since he didn’t wanna mess up the build again. He would get this block to lock in this time if it was the last thing he did…

Scar quickly noticed that his friend was determined on getting that block to lock in place, and now, his only mission, was to do get Grian to drop said block.

“I’ll make you drop it Grian…” Scar whispered before scribbling his fingers over Grians ribs, the boy screaming out with laughter as he arched his back attempting to get out of Scars tickly fingers grip, however they only followed and continued to wiggle his fingers around the shorter boys ribs, tickling through his red sweater.

Grian gasped at scars plans, scar had him in a chokehold… he knew Grian couldn’t resist a challenge, he was far to competitive..

“I cananaah keeheheheheep thishehhshs overrr myheheheh heehehead!!” Grian snapped back, engaging a full on tickle battle with Scar.

“You think so?? I bet.. 5 Diamond Blocks.. that you can’t-“ Scar challenged him while moving his fingers down to slowly tickle at Grians hips to allow the boy to speak for a moment.

“Fihahahaineee.. I will also behehet 5 Diamond Blahahocks! If I drop it you win, if I get it to lock in place, I win!!” Grian said as he relaxed more into the slower hip tickles. “Deal!“ Scar said before immediately digging his fingers back into the boys ribs almost ending the challenge immediately as Grians knees nearly buckled under him as his sweet laughter came pouring back out. “Wahahahait thahahats unfahahahair I wa hasahahst reahehehehady!” He chirped and once again arched his back trying to get away from the fingers at his ribs.

“Tickle tickle tickle— Griannnn~” Scar teased fingers skittering up and down all over his ribs and his sides. “OHohhahahaha mYheheheh gohohohd!!” Grian squealed as he leaned forward while holding onto the block, the locking timer and the unlocking sound firing off every few seconds as he’d start moving to much to get the block to lock in place.

“Ohhh my goodness! Look at this little ticklish tummy!! All I have to is wiggle my fingers around this adorable giggle button and you nearly fall over laughing!” Scar once again teased watching his friends shoulders shake as he fought desperately to keep his hands up over his head.

Reaching his hands forward even more he squeezed at one side while his other hand snaked itself up under Grians red sweater to locate his belly button and wiggle a finger into the spot.

“Stahhahatop!! Gehehehet ouhohohout of my behehehelly butheheheheton!! PLEHEHEHASE!!” Grian screamed when scar wiggled one finger quickly into his navel.

“Oh my gosh!! Little birdy boy! You’re belly button is so ticklish!!” Scar happily squealed making use of the spot for another few minutes until he brought his hands up to scribble around Grians upper ribs and arms bringing the boy to some lighter giggles as Grian seized the opportunity to shove the block into its place.

Scar heard the ticking sound of the block loading into place and he wanted to be as little nuisance so he let it get to about 25 seconds into the lock before he went back in and suddenly very quickly dug his fingers into into Grians tummy again making the boy violently jump once again and he heard the unlocking sound as Grian nearly dropped the block once again before whining and yelling at Scar.

“NohOHAHhahahahAhah staHHohohap!!! SCAAHAHHAAR!!” Grian yelped as Scar very quickly wiggled his fingers into the boys hips as he wiggled around and Scars hands only followed the ticklish little hips around not letting Grian catch a break. “PLHEHEHEHEASE!! LOHOHOHOHCK!!” Grian shouted desperately as the ticking sound starting going off again as he managed to hold his arms still.

Scar quickly noticed as he reached up to tickle around Grians arms again forcing the boy to move his hands out of the area the block needed to lock into place as the unlocking sound rung through the air again. “Griannnn- does this tickle?? Are you ticklish Grian..?”

“NOOOOAAHAHHAHAHAH IM NAHAHA- DOHAHAN— DOHOHOHN’T SAHAHAHAY TAHAHAHAHT!!” Grian screamed feeling butterflies in his stomach from Scars choice of words as the teasing was really getting to him.

“Don’t say what Grian?? Scar tormented the parrot hybrid feeling Grians wings flap between them some, he assumed as a coping mechanism to the tickles.

“Are you wings ticklish Gri?” Scar asked feeling a big smile creep onto his face as he slowly made his fingers back to the base of the boys wings.

“NO! no- they. They aren’t..” Grian nervously smiled knowing he had given away to much in the reaction. “Oh so you wouldn’t mind if I- just wiggled my fingers right into these soft blue feathers right here?” Scar asked in a scarily calm voice, Grian feeling a pit in his stomach as he heard the ticking sound of the block once again trying to lock into place.

“Pleehehhehease!! Pleasehehehehe nOhahahhaha!” Grian begged desperately wanting to win the challenge.

He tried his best to keep his arms strong in place holding up but nothing could have prepared him for the tickles Scar was about to deliver on his wings. It all happened in the matter of a few seconds. Scar reach up under his wings to ruffle the feathers and softly dig his fingers into the muscle that was in there as Grian screamed, the boy nearly threw the block straight to the ground, but the boy was far to into this challenge to just give up now.

“SCAAHAHAHHAHAHARRR NOHOHOHOHHH STAHAHAHHAOP PLEHEHEHASE!! NOHOHOT THEHEHEHE WEHEHEHEIHGS!!!” Grian pleaded with the other boy while his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Grian was determined to win no matter what as he flapped his wings around while letting out screams of laughter, the good thing for Grian about his wings though, is that while they are super ticklish, he can move them around enough to keep Scar off of targeting one spot so he was able to keep his arms up enough that he started to hear the clicking of the block loading again.

Scar realized this but didn’t want to hurt Grians wings by holding them in place so he had to find a new spot and fast that would hopefully make him drop it fully.

Scar thought for a moment allow Grian to get his hopes up for the block being locked in. And at the last second scar made the quick decision to dig his fingers right into his lower tummy causing the boy to suddenly drop to his knees, the block still over his head, but now he had a new challenge of trying to stand back up.

“WAAAAAAAAIHAHAHHAHAIT NOOOAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH SSSSSCCCCAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRR!!!!” Grian screamed his laughter reaching a new octave as he wiggled and squirmed around under Scars tickly fingers.

Scar followed him down as he continued to to wiggle his fingers into the boys lower belly area as Grian fought harder and harder to now try and stand back up.

It only took a few more minutes until Grian finally dropped the block and collapsed back into Scars arms while the boy reached up and only continued to skitter his fingers over the very fidgety boys sides.

“Y-YOU WHAHAHAON YOU WOHOHOHON!! Stahahahap!!!” Grian pleaded to Scar as he wiggled around in Scars arms his back arching and falling back down.

“What was that I didn’t quite hear you? Shouldn’t you be trying to keep that block up?” Scar teased his friend as he kept scribbling his nails over Grians tummy driving the other boy insane.

“YOU WOHOHOHON THEHEHEHEHHE CHAHAHAHAHALLENGE” Grian kicked his legs and tries to grab Scars hands as the other boy dodges his hands and kept hitting different spots.

“Ohhhhhhh, I won???” Scar said with feigned excitement already aware of the win.

Scar hit a few more pokes into Grians sides before he patted Grian on the stomach and laughed to himself. “You owe me 5 Diamond Blocks.” Scar smirked and stood up, hoisting GrIan up and turning him around before pulling into a hug.

“Didn’t know you were so ticklish-“ Scar teasingly cooed while giggling to himself.

Grian felt a shiver go down his spine, “h-hey I am. No-“ Grians eyes met wiggling fingers and a big grin on Scars face. “What was that?” Scar questioned and Grians eyes went wide as he backed up a little. “N-Nothing.”

Grian said quietly not wanting a repeat.

“That’s good, I thought you were about to say that you weren’t ticklish-“ Scar called teasingly in an eerily calm voice once again with a hint of a laugh. “Anyways, want help building? It looks like you’re having a bit of an off day.” Scar offered and gave a gentle smile.

“Sure haha, that would be nice, I’ll better get going on this shop build so I’m not broke after losing that bet-“ Grian giggled and walked over to pick up the block that he dropped.

———

Hope you enjoyed Anon, art probably coming for this soon.

[ribbononline]

wawawa wip posting

HIGH quality stuff in the works here. i love drawing archie making faces <3

[itsartistpending]

West Coast Avengers (2018)

Very watered down plot: Kate is still running away from her problems in New York. She decided to restart the west coast avengers because “all the hero’s are in New York”. We are re-introduced to two characters, Ramone and Johnny. In a past Hawkeye comic we learned a few things about them. They seemed normal at first but we learned they both have powers of their own towards the end. Ramone had quite the introduction with America.

Obviously this isn’t the last time we see them together. Johnny and Kate have a casual thing during the comic run that is eventually over by the end of the run. One character who I was unfamiliar with prior to this comic was Quentin Quire. His “mega-genius” abilities make him arrogant and hard for the rest of the team to accept. He eventually comes to his senses when Gwenpool arrives in town ‘wanting’ to join Kate’s team. Gwenpool is amazing and crazy and I just love everything about her. She’s just as chaotic and self-aware as her counterpart.

Oh how could I forget, she comes with her own pet land shark named Jeff

Noh-Varr shows back up to help Kate and ends flirting a little too hard with Johnny. America and Clint are also on Kate’s team. America is strong and amazing as ever. She joining willingly and totally not to keep track of Kate because she wasn’t answering her phone. Clint is still a mess so he’s willing to do anything but still feels responsible for Kate.

There are many villains Kate faces that range from moldy bad to MODOK and an evil cult of vampires who like hero blog specifically. Ultimately all of this is tied back to her mom to some extent that I don’t recall. From what u recall, he mom pretended to be madame masque and revels some big truth to her friends so they would stop killing her and help her save Kate and America.

In my overall opinion: I actually really liked this run. It never felt dull or lacking in any content to me. I finished it pretty quickly which says a lot to me at least. The dynamic between Quentin and Gwen was quite cute. Yes, Jeff was her guard dog and Quentin approved.

By the end of it there are 3 separate couples and Kate has built a team of reliable people she count on when she’s in the west coast. I didn’t particularly think anything was rushed and I loved the references made towards each characters past. The art style of this comic was absolutely perfect and the humor hit in the right spots.

Overall I definitely recommend reading this if your a fan of the young avengers and particularly Kate.

Here are some cute panels I think y’all should see

If you want to see more Jeff, there is a marvel infinity comic on marvel unlimited all about Jeff and his adventures. I mean just look at him ;-;

[teawaffles]

Albert’s Drinking Contest: Chapter 2

“——This is, the twentieth!”

Announcing the number of glasses he’d drained, Moran set his empty wine glass on the table with a thud.

He was still clear-headed, and able to hold a conversation. But those wild features of his were now flushed, as red as the copious amounts of wine that had entered his stomach.

“Ready to give up now, Albert?”

In his tipsy, trembly vision, Moran beheld his opponent before him.

But far from giving up, Albert was completely sober. There was no discernible change in his complexion; as if he’d started drinking right there and then, he tipped back his glass, and downed his wine with ease.

With that, they were now tied at 20 glasses each. Ignoring the man staring at him with twitching eyes, Albert called out to Louis, who was still serving as their waiter.

“No matter how many glasses I drink, this profound flavour never ceases to delight. To have procured such an excellent vintage — your selections are exquisite as always, Louis.”

“Thank you very much. As I recall, this is an import from America.”

“Ah: I’ve heard that the French vineyards are still afflicted with blight. [1] It’s a pity we won’t be able to enjoy their splendid red wines for some time to come; but it’s also our good fortune to have learned about the quality of wines from the New World.” [2]

“…………”

Albert was being much too relaxed, and had even started to digress into areas completely unrelated to the match; hearing that, Moran shot him a look of displeasure.

Incidentally, the challenge had been much too great for Fred: he’d been the first to pass out, flopping onto the table with his glass in hand. Immediately after, they’d covered him with a blanket so he wouldn’t catch a cold, and the man was presently fast asleep.

“Well then, both sides have managed to consume twenty glasses. It seems both of you still have room for more, but…… if I were to speak from an impartial standpoint, you appear to be at a slight disadvantage, Moran.”

Having observed their match, William leisurely shared his views.

Moran knew his analysis was unbiased, and that was precisely why he let out a groan of frustration. His face flushed, he grabbed the bottle of wine, intending to pour his next drink; but when he realised that not a single drop had trickled out, he waved the bottle in the air.

“Sorry, Louis. It’s empty, so could you bring a new one?”

“Understood.”

Louis promptly retrieved a fresh bottle, and with brisk efficiency, filled both their glasses.

“This’ll be, the twenty-first.”

As soon as his glass was full, without any intention of savouring the wine, Moran chugged it all in one breath.

But the next moment, he was swamped by an intense wave of vertigo: somehow, it seemed he was much nearer his limit than he’d thought.

In contrast, Albert merely tilted his glass, observing the colours and clarity of the freshly-poured wine. Then he swirled it once, bringing it near his nose to savour its aroma, and took a sip to taste.

“Is this a Madeira?” [3]

Standing beside them, Louis revealed the bottle label with a smile.

“Indeed — your wine tasting is accurate as always, nii-sama. Would you like some salted cheese to complement it?”

“I’d prefer to pair such cheeses with a sweet port. [4] Or perhaps we could have a chicken with that, like Sir John Falstaff.” [5]

“In exchange for one’s soul, indeed.” [6]

Watching the two brothers quote Shakespeare as they chatted, Moran was incredulous.

“……Y’know, this is a drinking match on which I’ve staked my dignity as a man — not some wine-guessing quiz at a party,” he protested.

However, in a long-suffering gesture, Albert merely shrugged.

“Although this is an earnest match, Colonel, it’ll become a dreary affair if you leave no room for entertainment. Moreover, this wine was used to toast the American Declaration of Independence, making it perfect for tonight’s celebration.” [7]

At that bit of trivia from Albert, Moran looked positively fed up.

“Oooh, if you have so much time to share your vast knowledge, then why don’t you hurry up and drink already?”

But far from being put out, an elegant smile rose to Albert’s lips.

“Oh dear; you’re in an awful rush, Colonel. Could it be a sign that you’re nearing your limit?”

“Wha……! N-No way. I can still continue.”

Albert had hit right where it hurt, and Moran uttered a groan that was rather different from before. It seemed his opponent had observed his giddy spell from earlier.

Although the match was far from over, Moran was now consumed by a crushing sense of defeat. Seeing that, Albert made a show of draining his glass at a leisurely pace.

Even after downing a substantial amount of wine, the eldest son of the Moriarty family was unruffled, and Moran shot him a complaint.

“You’re not actually drinking some deep red tea instead of wine, are ya?”

Perhaps it was because the liquor had addled his brain, for Moran put forth a suspicion that he wouldn’t normally have entertained.

To that, both William and Louis burst into laughter.

“That’s a very unique deduction, Moran,” said William, as he struggled to rein in his mirth. “But even I can’t devise a magic trick like that.”

Louis was also trying very hard to suppress his amusement. “I filled both your glasses from the same bottle: how could it be that alcohol came out one time, and tea the next? It’s so unlike you to even consider such a ridiculous idea, Mr Moran. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time to cut back on the liquor?”

“S-Shut it. I was just saying. And I’m not giving up now.”

Their teasing had completely soured his mood. Glancing to the side, he saw Fred, who was sound asleep.

“Somehow, I think he might’ve just laughed at that too……”

Moran gazed at the man he thought of as a younger brother, dead to the world with a peaceful look on his face. Then he fixed his blanket, which had slipped a little out of place.

When his two brothers had finally managed to regain their composure, Albert spoke up.

“In fact, Colonel: it would better protect your good name if we were to pretend that outlandish trick was true. Or perhaps we could give you a handicap, and allow you to alternate between wine and tea.”

“You don’t say. Then I’ll have two drinks the next round.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, coming from you. If you’re the one to set up the cause of your own defeat, then it’ll make a convincing excuse to others, I see.”

“Urgh……”

No matter what he said, Albert had a ready riposte. As such, Moran swallowed his frustration, and returned his focus to the match.

“Anyway: Louis, keep it comin’, please.”

Seeing Moran try his utmost to put on a brave front, Louis was even beginning to find that a little cute; muttering his acknowledgement, he proceeded to fill Moran’s glass once more. Then, with great force, the man poured its entire contents down his throat.

“…………”

The alcohol burned like fire as it flowed into his stomach — all of a sudden, Moran came to his senses. Placing his glass on the table, he pondered.

His vexation at the Moriarty brothers’ teasing. His alcohol-induced befuddlement. And above all, Albert’s ability to hold his liquor, which had far outstripped his expectations.

His irritation at those three things had wound up completely flustering him. But once Moran calmed down and took stock of his situation, he realised William was right: he was clearly on the back foot.

Until now, he’d been unconsciously averting his eyes from his predicament by being oddly stubborn. But this pickle wouldn’t resolve itself if he just kept running away. If he continued to drink without a scheme in mind, then in his mind’s eye, he could see the outcome plain as day: he’d be out like a light in no time.

However, if he lost, then he’d have to listen to anything the victor said. Moran had originally set that rule as a way to spur himself on, thinking that there’d be no way he would lose. But now, it had lost virtually all effect in rousing his will to fight — all that remained, was the dread of what Albert would make him do upon his defeat.

He absolutely had to win. But the way things were going, it was all but certain that he’d lose.

In that case, the only option left would be——.

Within him, that conflict crystallised into a single decision.

“William,” he said. “Won’t you join in the match? Or rather: please, join.”

“Me? But why?”

Up to this point, William had been serving as an impartial judge, and he asked that with curiosity. But Moran did not answer; instead, his expression twisted into a bitter one as he continued.

“That’s not all. On top of you joining in…… If you’re agreeable, Albert, let’s ignore the count thus far and start afresh……. This is, truly a personal…… request from me.”

That faltering reply was very much unlike him, and William broke into a meaningful smile.

Moran’s decision — was to request that they increase the number of participants, and restart the game.

Despite his frustrations, Moran was well aware that he wouldn’t be able to beat Albert alone. Hence, he thought he’d bring in more opponents to counter him: even if it was just one more person.

The other part of his plan was to reset the match. If Albert agreed to that, then compared to the two existing players, someone joining in halfway would naturally have the advantage. But from Moran’s point of view, even if he was defeated, it would still be better than having Albert directly exercise his “winner’s privilege” on him — such were his complicated emotions. It was an absurd request, to be sure; but at least he hadn’t proposed having Albert compete against the combined total of both his and the other participant’s tally: perhaps that was a reflection of whatever faint scraps of self-respect Moran still had within him.

Perceiving Moran’s complex tangle of emotions, William placed a hand under his chin and pondered.

It’d also be fun to take on his suggestion. Although he did have his role as the judge, it wasn’t as if the match had any strict rules to begin with — they could easily do without one.

However, if he were to join in, and the match were to be restarted, then both Moran and Albert would be at a disadvantage. When it came to wine, he knew his elder brother’s stomach for it was bottomless; but still, it was clearly unfair to have a new and virtually-sober participant waltz into an honest drinking match. And yet, then again, he didn’t want to dismiss Moran’s “request” out of hand.

In this situation, the best option would be——.

But the instant William made his decision, and tried to voice his answer, Louis quietly raised a hand.

“Hold on a minute. Could it be that you were thinking of taking up his suggestion, nii-san?”

“……Yes, I was just about to say that. Seeing as Albert nii-san doesn’t appear to have any issue with that.”

William looked at his older brother, seated across from Moran. Then, Albert flashed them both a slight smile. Although it would mean that he would gain a new opponent, and the contest would start again from the top, it seemed he didn’t mind one bit.

Registering Albert’s generosity, Louis pointed at himself.

“In that case, may I participate?”

“……You, Louis?” Moran asked.

Louis proceeded to explain himself briefly. “I cannot countenance the possibility — however slight — that after joining the match, my brother will end up drinking too much and impacting his health. Hence, I believe that issue will be negated if I were to join the match in his stead.”

“But in that case, I would end up worrying for your health, Louis,” said William, furrowing his brows slightly.

At his brother’s kindness, Louis unwittingly cracked a smile.

“It makes me very happy to hear that. But it’s rare to hear Mr Moran make such a serious request, and so I can understand how you’d want to help him out. Of course, as Mr Moran said: this is only if you’re agreeable, Albert nii-sama.”

“Alright. Having heard that much, I shan’t object,” replied William. “What about you, nii-san?”

His elegant smile unfaltering as ever, the eldest son of the Moriarty family nodded.

“I don’t mind. If you’re certain, Louis, then I shall respect your decision.” Then, Albert’s expression turned solemn. “However, as you mentioned yourself, you absolutely must not reach the point of destroying your own health. Even though the colonel can’t help it, Louis, my condition is that you cannot drink recklessly. Is that alright?”

“Understood, nii-sama. ——Well then, it’s settled.”

Nodding in assent, Louis quietly took a seat beside Moran. Absorbing how his ridiculous request had been granted, more than gratitude, Moran’s expression was one of astonishment.

“Is this really alright, Louis? I know I was the one who asked, but Albert’s no pushover. If we lose, then you’ll have to suffer the forfeit too……”

However, Louis smiled wryly as he replied.

“I already knew that when I asked to join, didn’t I? To be honest, I don’t want to stand opposed to either you or Albert nii-sama. But now that I’ve made my decision, I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

“……Louis.”

That resolve had shaken Moran, so much so that he began to tremble. Watching him out the corner of his eye, Louis filled both their glasses; then Albert too filled his glass by himself, and raised it toward the two of them.

“Well then, once again, let’s give it our all.”

“I won’t be holding back either, you two.”

“Oh, both of you will be sorry real soon.”

Having gained a dependable ally, Moran’s enthusiasm was now back in full force.

Looking at the three of them, William spoke.

“So with Louis’s entry, the contest shall start again from scratch. But for both Moran and Albert nii-san, the next glass will be your twenty-third: please take care not to injure your health.”

With that word of caution from William, the drinking contest had resumed.

Footnotes:

[1] French vineyards had been devastated by aphids in the mid-19th century, and then fungal diseases after that. (Wikipedia)

[2] The “New World” refers to the Americas, in contrast to the Old World, or Eastern Hemisphere of the Earth. (Wikipedia)

[3] Madeira is a fortified wine made on the Madeira Islands, off the African coast. (Wikipedia)

[4] Port is a fortified wine produced in the Douro Valley in Portugal. (Wikipedia)

[5] Sir John Falstaff is a character featured in several of Shakespeare’s plays. (Wikipedia) He is renowned as a drunkard and glutton, whose favourite food is capons — roosters reared specially for their meat. (BBC article)

[6] A reference to Faust, who traded his soul with the Devil in exchange for worldly pleasures. (Wikipedia)

Aside: As far as I can tell, this line doesn’t actually appear in Shakespeare’s works. But in the legend of Faust, Faust makes his pact with the Devil via the demon Mephistopheles — who is mentioned in Shakespeare’s play The Merry Wives of Windsor (Wikipedia), which stars Sir John Falstaff as its main character.

[7] This is apparently true: Wikipedia

[hamsterboos]

Shining in the Darkness

I've had to rework this plot about 3 times because I started this earlier this year and then restarted it a few weeks ago and then re-restarted it yesterday lmao I hope you guys like it

Word Count: 1699

Read on AO3

Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 13 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Florist/Tattoo shop AU

~~~~~~~~

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned, “look at them pretending to be all high and mighty with their all-black, emo, punk tattoo shop.” She turned away from them in annoyance, instead taking in the bright and beautiful flowers around her.

“I mean, I hope you didn’t expect a tattoo shop to be all sunshine and rainbows,” Elide laughed as she wiped down the counter where bouquets were made.

Aelin sent her a withering glance. “You’re only saying that because you’ve been staring at Mr. Tall-and-Dark ever since they started moving in.”

Elide sent her a sweet smile in response. “As if you haven’t been staring at Mr. Tall-and-Blond? Plus, this is the perfect opportunity to go get that tattoo you’ve been talking about for ages.” Elide gasped and suddenly pointed the rag at her, “You should go by and give them a welcome present! It’ll brighten that dreary place up too!”

Aelin glared at her, “Don’t you have some work to do?”

“Uh-huh, sure, kick your favorite cousin out for having such a brilliant idea.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at her, “Aedion’s going to take offense to that. Technically, you aren’t even my cousin.”

“I don’t care, and Aedion can suck it,” Elide cackled. “Go get them one of the potted plants. Probably a succulent or two, since it doesn’t look like they can keep anything else alive,” she said as she walked into the storeroom to take inventory.

Aelin sighed as she turned back around to watch the two men wipe down the clear glass panels and windows of the store. Her floral shop, Kingsflame Florals, was right across from The Cadre, a tattoo shop that was apparently opening tomorrow, and she was understandably frustrated at how everytime she looked out her own shop’s glass panels, she saw the dark and gloomy exterior of The Cadre. There was enough darkness in her own brain over the last few years after her parents had passed away that she didn’t exactly need to see it constantly as soon as she looked out of her shop, but Aelin also knew that it was strictly her problem and that she really couldn’t take it out on the shop owners.

Elide was right, though. The only decent thing about the entire place was the fact that there was a Mr. Tall-and-Blond, except his hair glinted so brightly under the sunlight that it looked almost like platinum silver. Even from across the street, she could see his muscles rippling under his black shirt as he wiped down the windows, (this man did not care about the burning sunlight, and she had no idea how he could bear it), and Aelin could see the vague swirls of a tattoo down his arm and on the back of his neck. If she was being honest, she wanted to go see the design up close, maybe get some inspiration for what she wanted, but did she really want to deal with all that doom and gloom?

As she chewed on her lip, she decided that maybe her parents were worth facing that - and she would never admit it, but Elide was onto something with giving them succulents -, and so she turned back around and picked up one of their potted succulents that was there especially for the store. Aelin grabbed their water sprayer, gave it a few spritzes, fluffed her open hair, smoothed down her blouse, and walked out the store.

“Hey, neighbor,” she called out as she crossed the road. Aelin was definitely feeling slightly intimidated by how black everything was, but she could deal. She was out of her emo-depressed phase after her parents had died, and a black tattoo shop couldn’t change that.

The dark-haired man wasn't there, but the man with the silver hair turned around, and she was weirdly excited to realize that he had bright green eyes. It was like a surprise of sorts - the man who seems to prefer black had silver hair and green eyes, exactly the opposite of his personality. He was incredibly attractive, though. Gorgeous eyes, pretty hair, sharp jawline, and the tattoo swirling up his neck, almost creeping up his jaw.

“Hello,” he responded, a slight tilt to his words thanks to an accent. Aelin blinked at first, trying to remember how to breathe again because holy crap, the man was suddenly even more attractive, and this was so not fair.

She put on her best, charming smile as she responded, “Welcome to the street. Your shop looked a bit too doom-and-gloom so I decided to bring over some flowers from my shop!”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the plant in her hands. “Doom and gloom?”

“Well, yeah, your entire shop is black, which is quite an achievement honestly. How do you make something so dark when the front part of the shop is entirely glass which lets all this sunlight in?” she joked, but from the way his lips turned down into a scowl, she figured he didn’t exactly share the same sentiments.

“It’s a tattoo shop,” he stated in a manner-of-fact tone, “so yes, it’s a lot of black.”

“Um, right,” she awkwardly responded, her bravado effectively gone, “I just wanted to come by and give you a succulent to keep at the desk. I’m Aelin, by the way, I own Kingsflame Florals.”

He looked down at the plant again before looking back up at her. “I figured you owned the shop, but I’m Rowan. You can come in, if you want, and show me the prime location for that so it doesn’t look all doom-and-gloom.”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Not at all,” he responded with a wry smirk on his face. He opened the door to the shop, and she followed him inside, immediately blasted with the cold air from the air conditioner.

She took the chance to look around the shop, and she was taken aback by the variety of designs posted around the walls. There were the simple designs like flowers, birds, dreamcatchers, and butterflies, while there were also insanely intricate designs of swirls and lines that created abstract art and distinct images, and all of it was just pure talent.

"These designs are beautiful," she breathed, setting the succulent down near the computer.

"Thanks," he replied, leaning an arm against the desk. "Interesting?" he asked, and Aelin could tell from his expression that he expected her to say no.

"Yes, actually," she replied with satisfaction as she watched Rowan's eyes widen slightly. "My cousin says that your shop opening up here is a prime opportunity for me to get the tattoo I've been talking about for ages."

"What’s stopping you from becoming our first customer then?" Rowan asked. Aelin shrugged.

"Lack of inspiration, I suppose?"

"Any ideas about what you want it to be?” Aelin shook her head, to which Rowan continued, “A reason behind getting the tattoo might help with the overall design.”

"We're not that close for me to share that part of my life with you."

"Really? I'd say these past five minutes makes us best friends," he spoke, leaning into her, mischief shining in his eyes.

Stifling a snort, Aelin rolled her eyes. “You should already know my tragic backstory then.”

“Same for you, Ms. Flowers,” he responded.

“No, but you see, I never claimed to be your best friend.”

“Ouch, that hurt,” he responded, a hand covering his heart with fake pain. Aelin’s lips quirked upwards at that with the realization that they had been leaning into each other during that entire conversation, and she was flirting with this man. She hadn’t even noticed how dark everything around her was because within that darkness was this man with bright green eyes that reminded her of pine trees from back home and silver hair that glowed like the moon,

“Fair enough,” she laughed lightly. “It’s for my parents. The shop was actually my mom’s idea for something to keep them busy after they retired, but they, uh, died in a car accident a few years ago. They never got to open it, so I did,” she said, looking out the clear panels to her own shop. It was years of hard work and pain, but she’d gotten through it. “I always wanted to get a tattoo, but now it’s more for them.”

She looked back at Rowan and was surprised to see that there wasn’t any pity shining in his eyes. No, it was understanding and compassion. He understood her decision, and it wasn’t something a lot of people were able to relate to. They would simply pass it off as a nice gesture she wanted to do, but it went deeper than that. It was a way to ensure she would never be separated from her parents, and from the way Rowan had let himself smile genuinely in front of her, she knew he understood.

“The tattoo you were staring at earlier,” he started, pointing a finger at his neck, and Aelin flushed realizing that she hadn’t been as subtle as she thought she was, “is about my wife and daughter that had passed away, also in a car accident. I understand your need to connect to them, so how about I draw something for you? You can take a look at it and make any adjustments as needed, but I can help you start off with something.”

Aelin looked at him, and she slowly exhaled a breath because maybe this was exactly what she needed. “Okay. I wanted it on my ribcage, if that works?”

“Yeah, of course, just be aware that you will have to at least take your shirt off,” he teased, and Aelin was so shocked that she barked out a laugh.

“Wow, Rowan, at least buy my dinner first.”

“Happily,” he replied.

Aelin sent him a bright smile, and she knew that she was never going to live it down from Elide that she had gone to the tattoo shop with the intentions of giving the grumpy men a succulent and had instead left with the man’s phone number and a beautiful tattoo design amazingly created with Old Language letters and a Kingsflame flower.

[esamastation]

Here's a sneak preview of fic I'm currently working. Working title is Loose Ends and it is post AC 3 and post the original Yu-Gi-Oh Duel Monsters manga and anime. I guess spoilers for both. And Ac Valhalla, a tiny bit.

-

"You know you have to take care of it."

Desmond hesitates, hand stilling over golden threads of probability, glowing in the grey darkness. He hadn't gone over even a fraction of them yet, and there are probably a million things that need taking care of, now that Juno and Minerva aren't here anymore to literally pull the strings, but… he doesn't need to ask which it they're talking about here.

"I will," Desmond says. "...as soon as I find a way in, I will."

Clay scoffs. "You're not looking very hard."

No, he isn't. He'd been distracted by alternate realities, watching Ezio marry Christina and Altaïr enjoy quiet life with Maria and – and there's just a lot of stuff to look at, to see, to be… vaguely jealous of, sure, but –

"You know that time is still passing out there all linear like, right?" Clay points out. "Abstergo is still looking for Isu tech, and anyone with any ancestral memories about it – if they find out that someone figured out how to make the damn things –"

"Juno blurred those genes," Desmond says a little defensively. "They're literally been hidden from me. And everyone else too, so, even if Abstergo knew about them, which they don't –"

"That's not going to work forever and you know it. Minerva's protections already wore down – as soon as Juno dies, and let's hope it won't take her too long, her manipulations will go too. The genes will become visible again – Animus readable. Like a program, restarting backup after shutdown."

Desmond sighs, unable to argue with that. His hand wavers indecisively, and then he lowers it, shaking his head. "I know – I am still looking for a way in. I just don't have any ancestors in the area at that specific time. Do you?"

"Look harder."

Frowning a little, Desmond lets his shoulders sag a bit before shaking his head and looking at the threads of probability instead, where they rise in front of him into a magnificent glowing tree with infinite branches.

Look harder – look where? Into his ancestry? He has, Desmond is so aware of his lineage that it's a bit uncomfortable – had he missed something…?

"Think about it," Clay says, sounding almost bored now. "Juno wouldn't have wanted to give those memories to you, that data, so it's not in your DNA – but you do have some ancestry in the area, don't you? Even if it's the wrong time, you have ancestry everywhere. And this was thousands of years ago, and with your lineage…"

Yeah. Minerva had collected his genes from all over the world, putting Desmond Miles together like a puzzle. He has a wider spread ancestry than the average… so looking for who he isn't related to is almost easier than the opposite. The data must still be there, though. The Isu are hoarders, when it comes to genetic memories – they wouldn't have let something as big as this just die out. So somewhere there is someone with that connection – someone with afoothold in the right time period…

Concentrating, Desmond gathers the threads of his own lineage – and then dismisses them. There would be no connection there, he can't find this information from within. It would be somewhere else, obscured, hidden… He'd looked at some of the lineages in the area, and none of them connected to the right time or location either. It smacks of Minerva's obfuscation, she'd lead the bloodlines elsewhere probably, hiding them in the distance as well as time...

Something tickles at Desmond's fingers, just for a moment – without thinking of it twice, he wraps his hand around the thread and pulls –

– and gets pulled away with it.

-

The lineage has protections in place, it turns out – there's a trap. Pulling on that thread tweaks Desmond's own probabilities, and for a while he finds himself in a maze of chances and statistics, all of them leading him wrong. It's incredible – almost physical, like an endlessly folded space of million overlapping staircases and doors leading into more mazes, leading nowhere. Whoever wove it wasn't an Isu, can't have been – it's way too imaginative.

It takes Desmond a bit of manoeuvring to get through even some of it. Luck is on his side, though, even with tweaked probability – the trap isn't active anymore. A bit like Minerva's protection, the maze is unravelling at the edges, because probability isn't an easy thing to tame and it doesn't like to sit idle. Still fascinating, though – definitely a learning experience. If he could learn to weave likelihoods like this –

"Hello?" echoes a voice in the maze of false possibilities, and Desmond freezes. "Is – is someone there?"

… what are the chances of that?

Turning, Desmond finds himself in a sort of hall, surrounded on all sides by stairs and doors – facing a... short asian man with a partially bleached spiky hair. He looks a bit like a punk, with ripped up vest and studded bracelets – there's a belt around his neck and everything. Kinda goth punk. Huh.

"Uh," Desmond says, stunned. Definitely didn't expect that. "Hi…?"

"Hi," the other man says, frowning. "Who are you – how did you get in here?"

"How did I – how did you get in here?" Desmond asks. Desmond at least has the excuse of being a disembodied bundle of genetic data – he can just do that, now. This guy is… not that. "Do you know what this place is?"

The Asian guy frowns, looking at him and then glancing around. "Do you?"

Swallowing the urge to say asked you first, Desmond looks the guy up and down, and then peers inside. Or tries to – and it clicks.

"Oh shoot, this is yours – we're in your head?" Desmond asks and glances around with new appreciation. It's like a – a load screen, an Animus headspace. "Aw man, I'm sorry, I didn't think you might be aware – I thought this was all automated, I wouldn't have just barged in like this if I thought it was all in someone's head."

The Asian punk blinks with surprise and then relaxes a little. "Oh. Well, if it wasn't intentional – and you're not here to harm anything, I guess it's alright?"

"No, no harm intended," Desmond assures. "Sorry – hi, I'm Desmond. Desmond Miles."

"Mutou Yugi – or Yugi Mutou, I guess. Yugi is my given name. It's… nice to meet you?" the punk says and clears his throat, looking him up and down. "Um, how do you end up in someone's Soul Room accidentally?"

-

Have written 2 chapters currently, aiming for the total of 5 or less.

[x-ladyathena-x]

Red

Dean Winchester x Reader

Part 1 of 4 [Little Red Riding Hood-Dean Winchester] in my Wishful Thinking series- This is a completely ridiculous self-indulgent, smut filled catastrophe. All stories in this fairytale AU are interlocking and part of the same continuous plot, but can be read as stand alones. Basically, reader is the main character of all these fairytale-esque situations that she finds herself in and gets to bang all the dangerous, hot men.

Part 2 of 4 [Cinderella-Kylo Ren] Commander

Part 3 of 4 [Sleeping Beauty-The Witcher/Geralt of Rivia] Morning

Part 4 of 4 [Beauty and the Beast-The Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes] Castle

Warnings: Shameless Smut & Dirty talk/cursing

Word count: 1.6K

Summary: Little Red Riding Hood AU. When your little red corvette breaks down on the side of the road, the big bad wolf will be the least of your problems.

The previously purring engine of your red Corvette convertible sputtered to a halt.

“Damn,” you muttered to yourself, as you tried to restart the engine.

You turned the key and listened to the engine struggling to turn over. You’d put a lot of time and energy into this car’s restoration. You’d brought it back from the dead. Well, almost.

The engine gave one last pitiful flutter before dying completely.

“Fuck,” you seethed, letting your head fall to the steering wheel in defeat.

You glanced sideways to the basket of blueberry muffins in the passenger seat that you were taking to your grandma’s house. She didn’t live very far, just through the woods. Yet, the little red corvette couldn’t even make it that far, apparently.

A very prominent car magazine from the area had even featured you and your restoration, praising your hard work. How embarrassing that the car wouldn’t even start now.

This particular stretch of woods was in the middle of nowhere, which meant no phone service… Great.

Before you could finish worrying about your poor car, you heard the rumble of another engine pull up. You looked in the rearview mirror and saw a black Chevy Impala.

The car made you sit up; it was very well taken care of and beautiful. But not nearly as beautiful as the man that stepped out of it. He was tall, with light brown hair. Stubble dotted a jaw so sharp it could cut you. And his green eyes were sharp as a predator.

He wore blue jeans, motorcycle boots, and a faded leather jacket. Your stomach fluttered. This was the type of man your mother would’ve warned you to stay away from. The kind that would ruin your life, but you’d thank them for the pleasure of it anyway.

Another, more logical, side of you realized that you were all alone on the side of the road with this stranger. What if he was a crazy person? No one would hear your cries for help.

You decided to get out of the car. All the easier to run, if need be.

“Well, if it isn’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” the stranger said as he approached you.

You blushed a little, his deep voice did nothing to help the twisting in your stomach. He was even more handsome up close.

“What is this? A ’91?” He asked, patting the roof.

You found your voice, “An ’89, actually. Bought it at auction and thought I’d worked out all the kinks, but obviously not,” You laughed nervously.

The stranger smirked, “don’t worry, sweetheart, my ’67 back there is a constant work in progress. Rods like these, they need constant love and a tender touch, but if she wants it the hard way, I’ll give her that too.” He winked at you.

You felt a throbbing in your core at the way his eyes raked over you and a pooling on your thigh. It was a hot day and you’d opted to wear a lightweight sundress. No underwear of course, because that wasn’t really your jam. You became very aware of how wet you were becoming as the wind ruffled your dress. You didn’t really know what to say, because your mind was elsewhere.

“I’m Dean,” The stranger said, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” You replied, reaching out to shake his hand. It was rough and calloused, but warm.

It was strong too. He gripped your hand tight and held it up to his lips, “Mmm, y/n, you smell good enough to eat.”

You pressed your thighs together, trying to get a grip on yourself but it only made the ache worse.

Dean’s eyes lingered on you for a moment before he asked in his husky voice, “Can I look underneath?”

You swallowed hard, “What?”

“Your hood. Mind if I take a look under the hood?” Dean said, pointing to the front of the Corvette.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, sure thing,” You replied and walked around to lift it for him.

There was a bit of a trick to opening it, sometimes it got stuck. And of course, now was one of those times. You cursed under your breath.

“Here, let me help,” Dean said as he came up behind you to help lift.

As the two of you pulled upwards on the hood, you could feel his erection through his blue jeans, pressing hard against your ass. A shiver ran though you, causing your body to wiggle against him. You could’ve sworn you heard him inhale sharply as he stepped away like nothing happened.

You composed yourself as the two of you inspected the engine. As you pointed out all the modifications you’d made and he nodded enthusiastically, you felt the two of you drifting closer together until your shoulders touched.

“You trying to get cozy with me, sweetheart?” Dean grinned playfully.

“Maybe I am,” you answered sarcastically, throwing all caution to the wind.

Dean looked up at you through his lashes and bit down on his bottom lip, “It’s your spark plug, easy fix, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Your eyes roamed over the obvious answer to your engine troubles. Had you been less distracted by this gorgeous man, you’d have probably noticed it sooner.

“Right, yeah, I’ve been having issues with that. I’ve got extras in the trunk.”

You ran around to the back of the car, retrieved the extra spark plug, and the two of you had your car fixed in no time.

At the exact moment you reach up to close the hood of the car, a large gust of wind blew through the trees, blowing your skirt up, and revealing your ass.

You hear Dean swear under his breath and feel a finger slide between your soaking wet folds.

“Already so wet for me,” Dean says as he spins you around and sits you down on the front bumper.

He squats down in front of you and draped both your legs over each of his shoulders, “Do you want me to devour this pussy like I’ve been dying to do and take you right here on the side of the road?” he asked, his voice thick with lust.

“Yes,” you whimpered. You wanted him to touch you more than anything.

You felt his wide, warm tongue lick a strip straight up your center and couldn’t help the moan that escaped from your lips as you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled him closer. He licked and suckled on your clit until you came not once, but twice. You were a screaming crying mess.

When he pulled away, he stood up and pulled you with him. Dean turned you around and bent you over the hood of your little red Corvette. You were so wet he slipped in with ease.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He whispered in your ear as he wrapped his hands in your hair and pulled your head back so he could bite into your shoulder. It hurt deliciously.

You could feel each thrust as he stretched you. He felt so good, it’d been way too long since you’d been with someone and you made a wish right then and there that you could have run-in’s like this with hot men more often.

He pounded into you as you came again, and all you could do was moan and scream his name.

Dean flipped you around to face him and you wrapped your legs around his hips. He reached up and pulled the front of your dress down, exposing your breasts, allowing them to bounce freely with every thrust. You dug your nails into his shoulder as he closed his mouth around one of your nipples.

You felt his thrusts begin to slow and could tell he was close, “I’m about to cum deep inside this tight little pussy,” he growled in your ear.

You weren’t sure if it was his long deliberate thrusts or his filthy mouth that did it, but your final orgasm made you clamp down tight around him as he came with you. As he came, he buried his face in your neck and whined your name.

When he came down from his high, he looked up at you and kissed you full on the mouth in the most tender way.

He stood you on your feet slowly as he pulled out of you. You could feel his cum dripping down your leg as you stood there catching your breath and reveling in what had just happened.

Before you could catch your breath, he’d already zipped his pants back up. He kissed you on the mouth again and you could taste yourself on him.

Dean began walking to his car and called over his shoulder to you, “Be careful on these roads sweetheart, I hear there’s a big bad wolf out here looking for pretty girls.”

He winked, got back in his car and drove off, leaving you there on the side of the road a very satisfied and well fucked mess. Mmm, what a day, so far.

[padfoot-and-prongsie]

Sneaking Around || Fred Weasley

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 4.3k

Requested: No, but feel free to send some in!

Summary: Your Slytherin friends would never approve of your boyfriend, but then again, who said they had to know?

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Umbridge, Slytherins being bullies, sexual innuendos

Disclaimer: I did not make this gif, credit to the lovely person who did

A/N: School has certainly kept me busy, but this is finally up! This fic was written for @theweasleysredhair 9k writing contest with the trope “secretly dating” and the prompt “I could kiss you write now”. I hope ya’ll like it <3

PLEASE DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK. REBLOGS ARE JUST FINE :)

The throng of students going back to the school was filled with loud chatter over the results of the Quidditch match, but you weren’t joining in. No, instead you were frantically scanning the crowds the moment you stepped out of the locker room, hoping you could catch a glimpse of red hair.

Montague was beside you, a sickly grin on his face despite the loss. In his and Malfoy’s opinions, the match had been a success, as last they saw George Weasley and Harry Potter they had all but been dragged off the pitch by McGonagall.

“Try to aim a little better next time, L/N,” Montague said. “With Weasley defending the goal it shouldn’t be that difficult to score points.”

“Well tell Goyle to get a bit more accurate,” you snapped back. “I can’t do anything with fucking Spinnet on me the whole time.”

Though it hurt to spit that out, Montague didn’t notice. None of them ever did. You really would deserve an award for the incredible acting you had done over the past year.

Montague made a face. “There’s only so much I can do with that oaf. Just step it up, L/N.”

You mock saluted him as he walked away, before quickly restarting your search for the all to familiar Weasley.

But once more you were stopped short when Malfoy caught up to you on the grass path back to the school.

He was quietly humming Weasley is Our King under his breath, an action that made you desperately want to punch him in the face. He already had a wad of cotton shoved up his nose from the last person who did that, and you could see some light bruises beginning to form on his arms. If he was in pain, he didn’t show it, though you had a feeling he would have the act ready for dinner that night.

“I’m looking to add some new verses to the song, any ideas?” he asked, falling into step beside you.

You shrugged hoping your shoulders weren’t as tense as they felt. If he had asked you last year you would have had a long string of words to call the Weasley family, but now you could hardly bring yourself to even hum the tune.

“I don’t know,” you finally answered, hoping he would get off your back.

Draco didn’t take the hint. “I need some rhymes for ugly and loser,” he said, a sadistic smirk on his face as he brought up the words that had sent Potter and George over the edge.

“How about you’re a real loser so talking to you is quite a snoozer,” you muttered, “and I know you’re already to begin with quite ugly, but you need to upgrade your fangirls, they’re a little to fugly,” you finished, eyeing Parkinson a few yards away who was bouncing up and down on her toes as she waited for Draco.

“Fuck you,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “You're terrible help, you know that right?”

You ignored him, not even bothering to look back as he stepped off towards where Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle were waiting. Merlin you hated Draco Malfoy and tried to make that plenty obvious when he was around, but for some reason he kept coming back. At least you managed to take a few jabs at his ego. You were rather pleased with your little poem, if you did say so yourself.

You were all the way up to the castle when a small paper bird fluttered over to you, it’s delicate wings flapping wildly as it battled the wind. It landed gracefully on your palm, neatly unfolding itself to reveal the scrawled out message inside.

7th floor, back corridor, behind the tapestry of the One Eyed Witch

8 o'clock

It wasn’t signed but by now you were well familiar with the messy handwriting and a smile lit your face as you thought of the Weasley you had been looking for earlier. Glancing quickly over your shoulder to make sure Draco and his goons were far enough away, you hastily shoved the parchment in your pocket and continued on your way.

By now you were well used to the odd meeting choices, the cramped alcoves under the stairs and the dusty long forgotten classrooms. Yet as unpleasant as they could be sometimes, the exhilaration of sneaking around, the thrill of not getting caught, left your heart racing.

You could hardly focus during dinner that night, trying your best not to send too many glances over to the Gryffindor table. The red and gold were all in different stages of gloom, their eyes dull and smiles non-existent ever since they heard the recent news about the state of some of their best quidditch players. Potter, George, and Fred had both been banned for life on Umbridge’s orders, which had led to a buzz of glee around the Slytherin table as they gossiped excitedly over the news.

You did your best to sound just as thrilled, laughing over the Gryffindor’s bad fortune, pitying Malfoy when he dramatically limped over to the table, and snickering with the rest of them as Pansy and Draco worked on more verses to their song. But anyone who looked close enough could see the white of your knuckles as you gripped your glass of pumpkin juice, they way you had to restrain yourself from crushing the glass as they laughed at the expense of the Weasley family.

By 8 o’clock you were so fed up with the Slytherins that you were more than happy to flee from the common room, pounding up the many flights of stairs to reach the seventh floor.

You followed the instructions you had been given, navigating your way through the halls until you found the large tapestry that had been mentioned.

You slowly pulled it aside and immediately got hit by the strong stench of dust and mold. But you didn’t care about the smell, for almost instantly a strong pair of arms were wrapped around you and let out a giggle as you were spun around, before pressing a kiss to Fred’s lips.

Fred Weasley was grinning back at you, the light in his eyes that had been lost at dinner back as he took in your smiling face.

He kissed you again hard, pouring all his frustration and stress that had built up in the last week into it as his mouth moved roughly against yours.

When you pulled back for air, you were finally able to take him in. His cheeks were flushed red, and his hair had already taken on a tousled appearance from your fingers running through it. Fred’s eyes were bright with happiness as he looked back at you, his lips quirked up in the Fred Weasley smile you loved so much. But as you glanced down, you could make out the subtle hue of bruises forming on his arms from where Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had been gripping on to him for dear life to prevent him from attacking Draco just hours earlier.

Fred followed your gaze. “I got banned you know,” he finally said, the sadness creeping back into his eyes.

“Yeah, I heard,” you replied downheartedly.

“I didn’t even do anything to that prat,” Fred continued. “If I knew that hag would ban me anyway I would have punched every inch of Malfoy’s fucking body.”

You could see the anger spike in his eyes and you quickly placed a hand on his chest.

“Calm down, Freddie,” you said softly, waiting for his heart rate to return to normal. “I should have made them stop,” you whispered, “all I did was sit there and watch, I feel horrible.”

“Don’t apologize love, there’s nothing you could have done without anyone getting suspicious.” Fred said, absently running his hand through your hair.

“Suspicious of us?” you laughed. “I think we do a rather good job if I do say so myself.”

Fred’s smile returned. “Yes we are pretty secretive,” his lips quirk into a smirk and he pressed his mouth against yours. “Abandoned classrooms, ducking into alcoves,” he whispered against your lips. “There’s something sexy-” at that word his hands slipped lower, giving your bottom a squeeze “- about sneaking around.”

“Are you groping my ass?” you asked, humor dancing in your eyes.

Fred’s smirk widened and he placed another kiss on your lips. “What would you do if I was?”

“I’d tell you to stop wasting your time talking when you could have me up against that wall,” you whispered, biting your lip.

Fred’s eyes darkened in lust. “You really are little Slytherin, so coy at getting what you want.”

You smirked. “What can I say? That Sorting Hat picked right.”

“It sure did,” Fred agreed huskily, walking you back towards the wall.

As your body pressed against the stone you jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging his mouth down to meet yours.

Needless to say, you and Fred snuck out forty five minutes later, well passed curfew and both looking rather disheveled.

“Don’t get caught going back,” Fred whispered, glancing both ways down the hall.

“I won’t,” you assured him. “Besides, if I do Umbridge will probably get me out of it, she seems to have taken a liking in me.” 

You gave him a pointed look. “It’s you I’m worried about, one bad step and she’ll expel you.”

Fred shrugged. “I’ve stopped worrying about that ever since she came to town.”

You sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid yet, okay?”

“Okay okay,” Fred agreed grinning. “Just for you I won't.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him. “I’ll see you later.”

Fred pulled you in to kiss you once more, then let you go, being sure you were well down the corridor before he himself snuck off in the other direction.

You managed to make it back to the Slytherin common room undetected, only running into Mrs. Norris, who you stunned, then slipped by before she came to. The Slytherin common room was still bright with life at 9 oclock on a Saturday night, but no one questioned you when you walked in. Most students had snuck out past curfew their fare share of times, so they wrote you off as being no different then themselves

Doing your best to hide the grin on your face that usually came after being with Fred, you slipped upstairs to the girl’s dorms. Only one of your roommates was there, sorting through her trunk, but after exchanging pleasantries she left to go downstairs.

Falling onto your bed, you let out a sigh, the smile finally getting to appear on your face. Merlin this boy was going to be the death of you.

You had met Fred at the beginning last year after you both landed yourselves a week's worth of detention with McGonagall. At the time you had thought the redhead was the biggest prick you knew, and in turn, he saw you as a stuck up brat. Somehow though, amidst trophy cleaning, quiz grading, and classroom organizing, you had taken a liking to him. There was something about that easy smile and stupid sense of humor that got to you, and in turn, your quick wit and dry sarcasm had left him smitten.

It had been over a week after your time together in detention when you had seen Fred again, this time when he had come up behind you during passing time and, with a firm grip on your wrist, proceeded to pull you behind a statue in one of the more quiet corridors of Hogwarts.

“What the hell are you doing Weasley!” you had hissed, frantically looking around to make sure no one was near.

Instead of answering, Fred had gently placed his hands on either side of your face, fixing you with an intense gaze that left your heart racing.

“What are you doing?” you had whispered again softly, unconsciously stepping closer to him.

“For some idiotic reason, I can’t stop thinking about you,” Fred had said.

“Really?” you’d breathed, your heart starting to pound more fiercely.

“And for some even more idiotic reason,” Fred had continued. “I really want to know what it’s like to kiss you.”

The speed of your racing heart increased and you unconsciously found yourself glancing at his lips

Fred noticed, a smirk spreading across his mouth. In one flourish of motion you were pressed against his chest with his lips only inches from yours.

“But our houses,” you had whispered, looking up at his dark eyes.

A smirk had slowly spread across Fred’s face. “Who says anyone has to know?”

And then he had kissed you, hard, and from that moment forward you had completely and utterly fallen for Fred Weasley.

~

“Professor Umbridge wants to see you in her office,” a voice behind you said, causing you to jump violently, dropping the book you had been reading.

Turning in annoyance, you glared at Draco, who was behind you snickering.

“Prick,” you muttered under your breath, reaching down to pick up your book with the intention of continuing it.

“She really does want to see you,” Draco said.

Instantly you froze, your mind drifting to Fred.

“Why?” you managed to squeak out.

Draco gave you a suspicious look. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “She wanted me to round up a good lot of us. Your name was on the list.”

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay then,” you said, getting up from the couch, your demeanor returning to normal again. “Her office?”

Draco nodded. “I have to go tell Zabini and Montague, but I’ll meet you up there.”

“Sounds good,” you responded, stepping past him to leave the common room.

When you reached the office of Professor Umbridge, you were rather surprised to find its door ajar. Tentatively pushing it open, you were greeted by an extremely pink room and at least fifteen other Slytherins looking just as confused as you were.

“Ahh, Ms. L/N, thank you for coming,” said a high pitched voice that made your blood boil.

“Of course Professor. Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, a fake smile on your face.

She let out a little giggle. “Oh do I have a treat for you.”

She quickly ushered you over to stand with the rest of the group, then, once Draco showed up with the rest of the recruits, quickly clapped her hands for attention.

“I have received some shocking news,” she started, a grave look on her face. “It seems Harry Potter has formed a club. A club which wasn’t approved by me, and a club to teach others illegal and dangerous magic.” She paused dramatically.

For effect, you raised your eyebrows in surprise, though inside you were suddenly filled with a deep sense of dread. Anything Potter was involved with had a high chance Fred would be there too.

“Now, from a source we have learned where these meetings are being held, and it turns out there is one tonight. You all have been chosen by me to come stop this atrocity and give proper punishment to those involved.” Professor Umbridge's sickly smile widened. “Your services will be greatly rewarded by the minister himself.”

Around you, you could feel the Slytherins buzz in excitement, their smiles widening at a chance to get the Gryffindor's into trouble. Your smile was equally wide, but inside your nerves were piling up.

“They’re on the seventh floor, in the left corridor, across the painting of Barnabas the Barmy,” she said, jumping up and down on her stubby legs, a look of glee in her eyes. “Go catch them.”

There was a flourish of movement as everyone made for the door, pushing up the stairs and trying to be the first to catch the wrongdoers. You too were pushing to the front, but not because you wanted recognition from the ministry, but because you desperately wanted to be the one to catch Fred in hopes that you could find a way to get him out unscathed.

As you reached the seventh floor, it seemed the Gryffindors had been given a heads up, as swarms of people were running out of a doorway you had never seen before. Upon closer observation, you realized that there were far more than a few Gryffindors, as Umbridge had suggested, but in fact there were more than fifty people from a wide range of houses sprinting down the hall.

“Get them!” Umbridge shrieked from behind you, and you instantly took off, shoving your way through the chaos.

Fred and George ran from the Room of Requirement, for once not joking about their predicament. Behind them, Harry was quickly running around, trying to usher everyone out as a mob of Slytherins filled the corridor.

Together with George, Fred ducked down one of the side corridors, hoping he could make it to the boys bathroom that was only another turn away.

But before he knew it, his legs locked together and he tumbled to the floor, quickly shouting at George to run as he tried to squirm away from his captor.

Fred felt a hand grip tightly to his shoulder, pulling him up from the floor as another jinx whizzed by him towards his brother. George managed to duck it, but from behind Fred, Montague came running by, his wand in hand as he chased the other redheaded twin.

Fred reached for his wand to hex the Slytherin, but someone behind him got to it first, shooting a jinx that caused Montague to stiffen up, before falling face first on the floor.

The grip on Fred tightened, and he felt the spell on his legs release as he was suddenly able to walk as his captor pulled him down the other hallway.

Fred, sensing an opportunity, kicked his left leg back, trying to throw the Slytherin off balance, but they easily dodged it, dancing out of the way of his weak attempt at escaping.

“Merlin Freddie, that’s the thanks I get?” they asked, and Fred quickly turned in surprise to see you looking at him in amusement, a smirk playing at your lips.

“Love?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to save your arse,” you replied, a slight grin on your face.

Fred looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. “Damn that was so hot,” he breathed, “I could kiss you right now.”

Your heart gave a little flutter, but you tried to keep your expression neutral. “Let’s put a pause on that for right now,” you said, as Ernie McMillan ran by with Theodore Nott hot on his heels.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Fred grinned.

You rolled your eyes, then glanced around the hallway, but amidst all the chaos you hoped nobody had noticed your quick exchange.

“Just do me a favor and look pissed off and try to put up a bit of a fight,” you instructed. “I know a place where we can hide.”

Fred didn’t respond, instead quickly reverting his expression to one of anger as he pretended to pull away from your hold, though making sure he didn’t do so hard enough that you couldn’t drag him down the corridor.

Once you were out of sight of the madness of the main hall, you pulled Fred in after you into one of the secret passageways he had shown you last year. It was cramped and not well lit, but the tunnel was suited well enough for the two of you to stay in until the corridors cleared.

“Were you the one who hexed me back there?” Fred asked the instant the passage was sealed.

You shrugged. “I had to make it look convincing.”

“But why? Couldn’t you have just let us run off?” Fred pressed.

“Crabbe and Goyle had circled around to block that end, I couldn’t risk you going that way,” you replied.

“George went that way though,” Fred said, his eyes filled with concern for his brother.

You sighed. “There wasn’t much I could do in the moment,” you admitted, “I was more focused on you. I did jinx Montague for him, so hopefully that gave him enough of a head start,” you added with a laugh.

Fred grinned. “That was a rather good one.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” you said, amusement dancing in your eyes. “It’s probably the highlight of my year.”

Fred put on a face of mock hurt. “You mean I’m not the highlight of your year?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes. “You make a close second,” you teased.

A smirk creeped across Fred’s face and he suddenly pulled you up against his chest, his lips brushing against yours. 

“Let’s see if I can get myself into first,” he said cockily.

~

It wasn’t until after the Easter holidays when you saw Fred again, and this time, due to a new Educational Degree (number twenty nine if you were being exact) you had a silver I hooked to your robes and about the same amount of power as the teachers.

“How’s that Inquisitorial Squad going for you?” Fred asked, the moment you stepped into your latest meeting space.

“It’s so stupid,” you complained rolling your eyes. “It just inflates Malfoy’s head more than it already is and gives Slytherins a chance to pick on everyone.”

Fred wore an amused smile on his face. “It seems you’re taking advantage of this new found power too,” he commented lazily.

“Zacharias Smith is a twat and everyone knows it, so I don’t particularly care how many points I dock him,” you stated bluntly.

Fred snorted at your response. “Bloody hell I love that about you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Love what?”

Fred laughed, pulling you towards him so he could kiss you once on the lips.

“How when somebody pisses you off you are so determined about getting back at them,” he finally said.

“Most people say it’s one of my worst traits,” you managed to get out as Fred’s lips began attacking your neck.

“It’s actually rather adorable,” Fred hummed against your skin.

“Fred?” you asked quietly, a thought suddenly popping into your head.

“Yes love?”

“Was there something you needed to talk to me about?”

Fred detached himself from your neck to properly look at you.

“It’s just that you said you wanted to see me and we only just got back two hours ago,” you stuttered quickly, suddenly feeling you had gotten the wrong idea. “Not that of course this isn’t a good reason,” you motioned between the two of you.

A slight smile spread across Fred’s lips. “Your two observant for your own good,” he said jokingly.

“What is it then, what’s wrong?” you asked, every possible reason filling your mind.

“Nothings wrong,” Fred quickly reassured you. “But you told be not to do anything stupid yet at the beginning of the year,” he paused, “that ‘yet’ has finally come.”

Your eyes widened. “What are you going to do?”

“Harry needs some help, so George and I offered ours, though I doubt we’ll get through this without being expelled,” he said, pausing to gage your reaction.

Your eyebrows had shot up and your jaw dropped. “What?! Why would you do that?”

“Because love, George and I don’t see the need to continue our education-”

“But what about-” you tried to interrupt.

Fred held up his index finger. “Just give me a minute to explain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, though your face still held a look of concern.

“We bought a shop,” Fred continued, “Harry gave us his Triwizard winnings so we bought one in Diagon Alley. You’re the first person that knows, and well, we were going to wait until after this school year but now with Dumbledore gone and that hag taking over the school, you’re the only reason left for me to stay.”

Fred looked you in the eyes. “That’s why I had to ask, can I do one last stupid thing? I am so in love with you Y/N, and you know that and if you want me to stay I will, and I promise nothing will change. I’ll be happy either way because I have you. I just knew I could never leave you here without first asking if you would be okay.”

A swell of love for the boy sitting across from you filled your chest and the concern had left your face. In its place, a single tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at the boy who had just told you he would leave all his dreams behind for you.

“Of course you can go Fred, I could never hold you back from that,” you said, letting him pull you against his chest. “But what about-” you looked up at him “-what about us?”

Fred grinned, kissing you once on the lips. “We’ll get to finally be together,” he answered softly. “There’s a flat above the shop, George has his space, we’ll have ours.”

“But George doesn’t know about us,” you protested. “What if he doesn’t-”

Fred cut you off by placing another kiss on your mouth. “If I have to marry you with only the two of us and the official at the service, then that would be enough. I don’t care about what he thinks about you and me.”

“Marrying me?” you whispered.

Fred interlaced his hand with yours. “The moment you graduate if you want love. Then we’ll never have to be apart for more than a second.”

You looped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard. “I love you so much Fred Weasley,” you whispered against his lips.

“And I love you a thousand times more,” he replied, his mouth barely leaving yours.

Fred tugged your thighs and you jumped up, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist.

“Now,” Fred said, and you could feel his smirk against your lips. “Why don’t we make this a night to remember.”

~

Taglist: Ask to be added! @missmulti @girl-next-door-writes @28cnn @thedarlinghufflepuff @rocket-svt

[chaoticevilbean]

When the Force doesn't know what a kid should look like

SW BI 3

Anakin's brow was starting to sweat. He knew he could keep it up a little longer, but Obi-Wan was already suspecting him and there was another 10 minutes of class. If anyone saw him- they wouldn't kick him out. Would they? No, Jedi were nice. Good.

5 minutes... 3... 1... Anakin heard the teacher dismiss the class and lunged from his seat, his pile of things barely stowed away as he dashed off. He rushed down the halls, leaping around other beings in his haste. He could feel his resolve sliping, but he could see the right hallway, see Obi-Wan's door-

A hand pulled him back by his shirt, lifting him off the ground and destroying all hopes of reaching safety. Anakin had time to register Master Tiin holding his shirt, Masters Fisto and Windu clearly accompanying the Iktotchi. Then he slammed his hands over his ears, his eyes closed, trying to curl up as several sensations and urges kicked back up.

He forgot about the tail.

"Padawan-" Master Windu's voice stuttered out, and Master Fisto began emitting a few high-pitched noises that made Anakin cringe. The Nautolan swiftly stopped, but then there was shouting , and the heat of more bodes, the scents. He was lost in a sandstorm of chaos, he couldn't think, couldn't breathe-

Something warm wrapped him up, enveloped him in familiar. There was someone's robes around him, darkening the world. The tail tried to flick away when a hand pulled that under the robes as well, but Anakin appreciated the gesture.

The familiar face of his mas Obi-Wan looked down into the robes.

"Better?" Anakin blinked languidly up at the man, shrugged, and gave into his instinct to burrow deeper into the darkness. "Anakin, I would really prefer a yes or no of some sort."

An ear flicked into his face in response. Then the other. Both stood straight up for a moment before flattening. Anakin was busy finding out that closer to Obi-Wan meant both warmer and darker. And when the Human pressed into his torso, the Jedi automatically wrapped his arms around the smaller being.

"Master Prix, do you know what's going on?"

"Not necessarily, but I have a theory. If he's been pushing down certain traits, then they might be returning full-force. It happens quite often when one of my people enters a foreign place. Too many unknowns of how another will react to them"

"Does that mean he's responsible for the scratches I keep finding under the sofa?"

"That rat had it coming," Anakin growled out, trying to see if he could go deeper. Sadly, it seemed that was impossible.

"Anakin, do you mean the mouse droid?"

Anakin ignored the question. He knew he wasn’t supposed to scratch things, but he also knew that his hunting instincts had come that day. Although he wondered how his mas Obi-Wan had found the marks.

“What should I do?”

“Make a den, incorporate different training exercises in your day, try to be receptive to any open affection.”

“I meant right now, not that that isn’t helpful.” A den did sound nice. Like the one under his mom’s bed.

Something poked the robes. Anakin’s attention honed in on the movement, ears perking back up and tail starting to twitch. The thing came again, poking enough to nearly touch him before retreating quickly. Obi-Wan's arms withdrew as his Padawan tensed up, the movement moving the robes somewhat.

The third time the thing came, it made its way through the layers, and Anakin immediately pounced on it. He barely realized it was a furred hand before it had grabbed his shirt and started pulling him out of the darkness. He hissed, trying to turn and quickly grab onto Obi-Wan, only to have the traitor pull away from him.

The light in the hallway had been dimmed, and there was only three other people in it. Anakin didn't care much, as he was busy trying to fight off the grasp of an unknown, very furry Jedi in beige. Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. Faster than even his mother could, Anakin found himself turned around and pinned in a tight hug, someone's head nestled atop his own, right between the ears.

He started growling. He didn't like it. He didn't like losing to some stranger who someone won Obi-Wan's loyalty.

The person started rumbling in response.

Anakin amended himself. They were amazing. His growling turned to purring in an instant, and despite all his logical mind telling him not to, he went practically limp in the hold.

"Think of it like dealing with a loth cat or a dire hound. Hunting instincts will be strongest at first, but they should eventually fade into the background. That is, if he doesn't feel the need to push them down again."

"Hush," Anakin mumbled at the voice, leaning back into what he realized was quite warm fur. Even warmer than Obi-Wan. Another robe wrapped around him, this one belonging to whoever was holding him. His eyes were drooping fast, but who cared? He felt safe for once. Completely and undoubtedly safe...

~ ~

Anakin awoke to find himself still wrapped in something warm, but not the same thing. His The ears flattened for a moment before relaxing at the scent. Obi-Wan again. He decided to forgive the man, for the reasoning of the stranger not being an actual competitor and the twice-over of getting hugs.

His eyes opened to the dark room where Obi-Wan usually slept alone. They closed again, content with knowing where he was and ready to sleep himself, like the calm person next to him.

He shot away from the other at the return of his logical instincts. No, at his instincts. Anything else wasn't him. And he'd let them take over before. In front of the Jedi, in front of Obi-Wan. How long had he slept? Did he miss any of his classes?

What was he going to do now‽ He couldn- would he just continue like before? He couldn't! Could he? What if they wanted him to-

He froze at the sudden weight around his shoulders. It took a moment for his brain to restart enough to react. He tried to dart away again, but the weight just starting pressing down a little and he froze once more, waiting. The weight moved a little, shifting until he finally realized what it was.

"Kriff you."

"That's hardly language befitting a Jedi apprentice, now is it?"

"You son of a Hutt."

"I don't know what I did to deserve such name-calling. Care to inform me, dear Padawan of mine?"

"You motherkarker."

"Anakin!" Said boy giggled at the offended tone of his mas Obi-Wan, who retaliated by pulling him into a hug.

"Wait, no!" He struggled to pull himself away, to no avail. He grumbled as he flopped back, resigning himself to being stuck.

"I know you don't want to talk about this, seeing as you went as far as you did to hide it, but I would like to discuss it at least partially."

Anakin tried to free himself again. He failed again. He decided it was more annoying that he was so weak than that he was getting hugs. Was he getting the hugs because he was getting annoyed?

"Please?"

"Fine," Anakin sighed, settling into his mas Obi-Wan's chest. "What do I need to tell you?"

"Why did none of this come up in Master Che's check-up? Or did it and you didn't tell me? It's alright if it's the latter, I simply wish to know."

"It came up, ish. She did all the stuff and then asked if there's anything I should tell her, and I told her I was hiding it, but she doesn't know anything besides I have them."

"And what is 'it'?"

"Uhm..." Anakin thought for a moment, mentally going over his list of features. "Physical stuff, like the tail and the ears. Mental stuff, like the, uhm, the 'hunting'. Other stuff, but I don't really know what."

"And how does this 'hiding' work? According to Master Prix, it seems less like hiding and more like suppressing your... quirks."

Anakin tried to squirm away from his mas Obi-Wan. He sighed when it worked as well as before. He knew how to explain it all. His mom had helped him learn it so he would know if it came up. But knowing and doing are very different. And it's all a habit and habits are hard to break.

"Uhm, just- I just tell myself to wait? Like, until I sleep or get somewhere... safe?" That was awful.

"And what was earlier? Master Windu said that you were sprinting and just.. popped out a tail and all that."

"I- well, there's- rrrr." Anakin let out a short growl as he attempted to sort his thoughts. He was a Padawan. He could do this. He took a deep breath, trying to translate it all into the right words.

"On Tatooine, it's hot in the day. And it's very cold at night." He paused. Obi-Wan said nothing, waiting. He needed to figure out a way to thank his mas Obi-Wan. "And no one does much during midday, and no one does much during midnight. Around that, people like to head inside and start to adjust." Was that right? Yes, he was sure he hadn't mixed up the opposites again.

"So when it starts to get closer to midday or midnight, everyone sleeps. But on Coruscant, most people sleep once. And all the Humans sleep once. Once during a cycle," Anakin clarified. Obi-Wan made a noise of understanding, prompting his Padawan to fall silent and wait.

"So, if I'm understanding correctly, the reason you were in such a rush to make it back to our quarters was so you could stop hiding." He got a small nod in affirmation. "And the reason you were struggling to hide is because you are used to sleeping twice every cycle, for shorter times. Therefore, you are used to shorter periods in which you feel the need to hide." Another nod.

"Anakin why do you hide? I understand doing so on Tatooine, given its shifty nature. But you have been at the Temple for a month. Surely you understand you are safe here."

"Habit."

Obi-Wan said nothing to the short answer for a moment. Then he stood up, pulling his Padawan up with him. He turned the boy around, staring into the eyes that were both so different and so much the same as the ones he'd been seeing for a month.

"We don't have to go over everything now, but... do you want to break this habit?"

"...yes."

~ ~ ~

[Should I do more?]

[xpeachesncream]

restart | eleven

↱ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG  |  series masterlist ↰

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.3k

warnings: cussing/mature language, angst, thoughts on overdrive, anxiety

notes: um, there’s about 3 chapters left ☹️ i won’t be taking drabble requests right away just to give myself a little break and work on bands for a bit, BUT-- i think i might be working on something else in the meantime? i’ll let you guys know lol ily a milli 💗

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @jeontier​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ @littlewolfieposts​ @vanntaesworld​ @thebeebi​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Look, I—"

"No, Aiko. You know damn well I deserve to hear this from you too no matter what the outcome was. It takes two to tango." You step a little closer to her as you feel your bottom lip trembling. Just looking at her makes your stomach drop. You remember all the times that you felt insecure, and truly inferior especially after those nudes she used to send.

Fuck, Taehyung.

Maybe she was just always going to be a weakness for Tae, and that was it.

God, you want to hurl. But you keep yourself composed because it's here now. There's really no turning back.

"Hey." Jin gently squeezes your wrist and gives you a reassuring look. "It's okay." He mouths out.

"Do you have to be here while we do this?" Aiko shoots Jin a look.

"Of course I do. I'm not leaving her side. Why are you suddenly so shy when you've been sharing your nudes with everyone, let alone men in relationships?" Jin snaps back with that glare of his. But this didn't surprise you, Jin was always direct. He would never shy away from telling you like it is. All Aiko can do is roll her eyes at him before letting out a small sigh and bringing her attention back to you.

"Can we just cut to the chase here? I'm not exactly here to be friends." You say as calmly as possible. "Why did Taehyung come to see you?" Which, you curse yourself under your breath once you ask the question because why the fuck else would he come and see her? You were just too busy trying to sway away from the truth.

"He just asked to come see me. For specifics, I'm sure you and I both know what the intention was behind it." You feel sick, but you swallow the lump in your throat and slowly nod your head.

"So, um—"

"No, he didn't Y/N." She cuts you off and looks at you, her facial expression softening. "He didn't do it."

"W-what?"

"He came here and left. Said this was a mistake and that he would never do this to you." Jin's grip tightens around your wrist for whatever reason, you can't really decipher the signal right now. You honestly had a hard time believing her at the moment, and it has even gotten to the point where you think they've both created this story to tell you. However, when you look at her, her body language isn't defensive, nor does she seem like she's hiding anything. There's a small frown creeping up at the corners of her lips as she watches you.

She watches how you fiddle with your fingers, and how you always seem to swallow the lump in your throat every 5 seconds, slyly looking up to prevent the tears from coming down.

"O-oh."

"Look, I'm really sorry for having caused any trouble and I know I'm probably still not going to be on your favorites list for the way I acted with Jin—" She quickly looks at him. "And with Taehyung. But, if there's really one thing that I help with right now, I can tell you that he truly does love you." She tightens the way her arms are crossed close to her chest as she lets out another shaky sigh. "I know it's terrible that the thought was there for the both of us, but he would never do anything to hurt you. He can't. You mean too much to him, Y/N."

"I— don't really know what to say."

"He's set on you. There's no changing that for him." She says, and you can catch the hurt in her voice. The way her tone dips a little when she tells you there's no changing that for him. She still had feelings for him, and this shouldn't be anything new to you.

"Thanks." Aiko does nothing besides purse her lips into a tight line.

"Yup." You look at Jin, and he simply nods at Aiko before he's slightly pushing you to walk away from the door and down the stairs. But, before you could fully get yourself down a step, Aiko calls out for you both. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"He's lucky to have someone like you. I hope he learns from whatever he's going through." You take one last look at her before you silently head down the steps with Jin and situate yourself in his passenger seat.

"So, what now?" Jin asks as he drives off.

"I honestly don't know." The scene of him begging you not to go replays in your head and your heart shatters all over again. You don't know if you're upset with yourself or if you're still upset with him. Actually - yes, you still were upset with him because he had the fucking nerve. The fucking thought. You couldn't get over that. But part of you felt relieved knowing he didn't move forward with it? Or, that he was fucking smart enough at the very least to fix himself the very last minute.

"You can't avoid him forever."

"No, I know that. I just don't know what to say to him." You turn to Jin. "Is it really bad for me to want him to make this work? I don't wanna be the one that goes to him first, not after all of this. I'm tired. I just want to believe that he still wants me the same way he did before."

"I'm sure he hasn't changed."

"Jin, the thought still crossed his mind."

"I know and it's not okay whatsoever but I do have to give it to him for realizing it before."

"I don't know. I guess, yeah." You look down at your lap. "What if he just doesn't fix this? I'm scared of being upped and left again." The sudden thought of your ex popping up, along with all the nights you cried yourself to sleep - waking up with a pounding headache and dry eyes.

"He's not going to." Jin says reassuringly. "I really do believe he'll get this right, but just like you needed time, he does too. I know you had a hard time and a lot of things hurt you, but Taehyung had his own demons to battle and that's never easy. He's trying."

"Yeah." Is all you respond with.

"Do you need more clothes?"

"No, I don't think so. If anything I'll just ask one of the boys to grab me something."

"Okay." Jin continues to drive off and back to his apartment. You keep your gaze outside of the window until your phone vibrates in your lap.

[taehyung♡] 6:05pm: can we talk tonight? i know you might not be ready, but i honestly don't want to put this off any longer. i need to see you.

Your breathing hitches and Jin can feel that something has suddenly changed in your mood. You stare at your phone, unsure if you want to cry or if you're relieved to see Taehyung pop up on your screen. You wanna cry cause of course it still hurts to know the thought crossed his head; you'll never forget that for a second, Taehyung thought about risking everything you've built together just to feel wanted, needed, whatever the hell it was. For a second, he pushed you aside because he was ready to let Aiko back in.

But then you also are relieved because fuck, even if it hasn't been long, part of you felt like he was truly going to give up. That he wasn't going to try anymore. That he didn't think this was worth fixing. That you and him just weren't meant to be together. After all this, of course you still loved him. You loved him deeply - so, so deep, that thought of you without him is probably what hurts the most. He meant everything to you.

"What is it?"

"He wants to talk tonight."

"I'm telling you, you can't avoid him forever."

"Should I do it?"

"Are you ready to? Just because I say you can't avoid him forever doesn't mean you have to talk to him right at this moment, especially if you aren't ready." You look at Jin.

"This is so fucked up, because after everything, I still miss him. And I want to see him. I just don't know what I'd say though."

"Why don't you be honest about everything, yeah? How it made you feel, you confronting Aiko. Let him know that if this does work out, he'll really need to learn from it and understand how hurt you were."

"I know."

"So are you going to see him?"

"Yeah, I think so." Your hands became clammy as you picked up your phone and responded.

[y/n] 6:11pm: yeah, sure.

[taehyung♡] 6:13pm: is it okay if i pick you up from jin hyung's?

[y/n] 6:15pm: yeah, that's fine.

[taehyung♡] 6:16pm: be there in about 15 minutes.

As soon as you put your phone down, Jin is turning into his parking garage and parking into his assigned spot. You quietly walk up the steps, feeling the anxiety settle in. How was this night going to go? Were you going to have to move your stuff out permanently? Move in with Jin or Jungkook until you could figure things out? You already felt terrible enough having spent these past nights in Jin's bed while he slept out on the couch. He insisted he was fine with it, but still.

What if Taehyung really just wanted to talk to tell you that this was done?

Fuck.

Your anxiety is bubbling in your stomach as the minutes go by, 15 minutes seemingly coming a lot slower than it usually does on any other given day. But, it eventually comes and it comes by Taehyung texting you that he's downstairs. You zip up your jacket, fixing up your appearance just a teeny bit because this was still Taehyung. Jin is eating dinner as he waves you off, setting your bowl aside on the kitchen counter for you to eat later when you get back [if you're hungry].

You feel your pulse on your neck, and your ears are slightly ringing because of how nervous you are. You catch a glimpse of him through the lobby doors and you instantly feel weak, and you fucking hated that effect he had on you. He looks at you as you near the passenger door, slipping yourself in without making much eye contact.

"Hey." He says softly as he drives off.

"Hey."

"You eat already?"

"Nope, haven't been too hungry." His heart sinks at the statement.

"Let me know if you want me to stop by anywhere afterwards to get you some food."

"I'll be fine, thanks." You say, keeping your eyes on the passing view outside of the passenger window. The ride is awfully quiet, nothing but the thoughts in your head making noise. You realize he's taking you down towards the nearby beach, parking his car in front of the ocean view. When he shifts the gear to park and shuts off his lights, he slightly sinks in his seat and lets out a sigh.

"Y/N." He says, breaking the silence. You slightly turn your head towards him, eyeing him every now and then through your peripherals. "I'm sorry." He says, close to a whisper as his head drops and he begins to cry.

"Do you even know what you're sorry for, Taehyung?" You ask, your voice cracking when you look at him to see how torn up he is.

"Baby, of course I do." He looks at you through his teary eyes. "I'm so sorry for hurting you, I'm sorry for ever making you question your worth, I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble and pain while all you've done was be there for me. I'm just.. sorry for not being there when I should have been. I should have never let you go through this alone."

"You have no idea how it's been all this time. I was your fiancé, Taehyung. I was trying to be there for you through everything you were feeling, experiencing, whatever it was. I tried. And all you did was push me aside and you still ended up pointing your fingers at me. Almost cheating on me, even? The thing that feels so unforgivable and so painful is the fact that for a second, you really believed risking everything we've built together was worth it."

"I know and I fucked up. That was on me, 100%. I let everything get to the best of me and I was too dumb to see it right away. I fully acknowledge it and I never want to make you feel that way again. I miss you so much. You being away has been so difficult because I feel empty without you. It's been hard to be without you because I never pictured myself to be without you. I still can't."

"We were planning to get married, Tae." You begin to softly cry. "This isn't something you do when you get married to someone and build that life together with them. You can't—" You wipe your tears with a quick pause. "You can't just run off expecting things to be okay after they get brushed under the rug. How are we supposed to have a family together, grow old together, if we can't even fix these kinds of issues together?"

"Baby, I'm ready to do this with you. It's been a hell of a ride and I'm learning as I go. I know I haven't been perfect, or the best fiancé, but know I'm learning from this because I want to be the best for you and give you the world like you rightfully deserve. I'm so, so sorry, my love." He responds, wiping his tears in between before reaching for your hand and grabbing it. He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss against it, causing your heart to flutter. "I love you so much, I'm not giving up on us. I want to do better and you help me be a better man every day that we're together."

"I just want you to understand how much of a toll this took on me and our relationship. You really hurt me, and all I hope is that you do learn from this and become better from it. I love you so much, but I can't always save you. I can be there for you, but sometimes you have to help yourself and I don't know what I'll do if I have to go through this again."

"I know. And I said I wanted to do better, I'm gonna do this for us. I don't want to do this with anyone else. I'm ready to do this ride with you." You don't really have anything else to say, because you feel like you've made your point time and time again. Now, you just didn't know if you'd take this leap of faith again and trust him, or if you should let it be. You simply lean over to wipe his tears, but he keeps your palm against his cheek, pressing a kiss against it as he leans into your touch. "I'm in love with you, Y/N. More than you'll ever know." You sit back into your seat and give him a tiny smile before letting out a breath. You were nervous for what you were about to say, but you needed to say it. You just needed to be honest. This is what this time was about.

"I went to see Aiko earlier." His eyes shoot right at yours, but he doesn't say anything. "She told me you didn't do anything and that you left." You slightly nodded. "It's gonna be hard for me to let that go. But I hope you understand that I want to be the person you go to if things get rough, no one else. I want you to confide in me and tell me what you need so I can better provide. I don't want my man to be running off to someone else because they feel like they can't get a certain feeling or emotion reciprocated, especially without discussing the issue."

"I know, love. I know. I understand and hear you. I'm going to show you that you're the only one that matters to me, and I'll never make you doubt yourself ever again." You sigh and nod. He leans over to kiss you on the forehead, but retreats back to his seat without kissing you anywhere else because he still felt the need to give you space. The kiss sent shivers down your spine though, and it only really solidified the fact that he was the only one you still wanted. "I—um, talked with my parents."

"You did?" You ask softly. For some reason, this was something you weren't expecting to hear. You truly and honestly didn't think Tae was ever gonna try to mend his relationship with his parents, but this showed you that he wanted to try - with you and with them. Hopefully, at least.

"Yeah. I stayed there for a bit." He slightly smiles. "I'm gonna start working with my dad next week. We've been trying to do a lot to mend our relationship and spend more time together."

"I'm happy to hear that, Tae. I really am."

"Thank you for always pushing me to do better with them. There's a lot on their side that I had yet to better understand and vice versa."

"Of course." You say softly as you look at him. He was still the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on, even under the moonlight.

"Do you wanna head back to Jin hyung's now?"

"Sure. I think I've said what I needed to say."

"Come home, please." He says softly as he begins to drive off. "I want to work on mending us, and our relationship."

"I—I don't know. I want this, I do. But I think I just need time to process this? I don't really know. I have to be honest, I'm scared."

"That's okay, I understand. You have every right to feel that way, but I'll show you that you don't have to be. You know you're always welcome to come back whenever you're ready though, baby." But fuck, everything about this makes you so weak. You really did want to go back home and work on this. You just wanted to be with him. You were just scared. There's really no other way to put it. Scared of getting hurt, scared of falling into another trap.

The rest of the ride is quiet again, but it's obvious that the both of you feel a little better getting things off of your chest and talking things out. It didn't mean that everything was fixed though, but you could at least say you both were on the same page of working this out and fixing your relationship. And even though you weren't going home with him that minute, Taehyung can't help but feel hopeful that this will work out in the end. He wanted to do right by you, and he was going to. He was going to fix this, marry you, have a family with you, grow old with you - he was gonna do whatever it took to get you both back on track.

When you unbuckle your seatbelt, you turn to face Taehyung. He simply gives you a tiny, toothless smile before cupping your cheeks and kissing your forehead, then nose.

"I love you, babygirl." He kisses your nose once more, thumb lightly caressing your cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too." You respond before quickly hopping out to prevent yourself from crying even more. You don't turn back and simply head into the elevators up to Jin's floor, straggling tears able to leave your eyes and lightly stain your cheeks.

"How was it?"

"Good, I think."

"What's the plan moving forward?" Jin asks as he leans onto the kitchen counter, watching you wipe your tears and nose.

"I think I'm gonna go home."

even when i'm on my own, i'm never alone and the silence sounds so loud, i'm feeling bound by the words i can't get out

track six: me and my mind - jazz morley

[hoekaashi]

3 am Talks - hq pt 2

a/n: i hope you enjoy these! they take place some time during the time skip or close to when the six years are up. pairings: oikawa x reader, iwaizumi x reader, mattsun x reader, kuroo x reader, kenma x reader warnings: some spoilers, smoking weed taglist: @babydabi​, @suckersuki​, @bakugoustanaccount​, @animoozies​ part 1 | part 3

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

⇾ c o n s p i r a c y t h e o r i e s ⇾ lots of aliens talk ⇾ will try to convince you that he did in fact, see a UFO once ⇾ but also, will complain about the flat ass comments he constant receives ⇾ spills his secret that not even iwa knows - he dropped a shitton of cash to work out with the Kardashian’s personal trainer in hopes to get a nice juicy bubble butt ⇾ spoiler: it didn’t work ⇾ if he’s in a more serious/softer mood, he would talk more about the mistakes he made in the past in regards to his relationships ⇾ friendships or romantic ⇾ a very vulnerable moment for him where he just let’s everything he’s been holding in out

“I swear! I was seven, I went camping with Iwa-chan and his family!” Oikawa was sitting back on his heels with his right hand up, swearing to you. You rolled your eyes. “What, did the aliens abduct you and perform a surgery? You got a nasty scar on you somewhere?” He narrowed his eyes. “I will prove it. I just need to find the picture for you.” “Right. Wait, have you been working out more?” His expression quickly changed from utter disbelief to a smirk. “I have.” “Well, none of it is helping your ass.” He hung his head in defeat. “All that money wasted. I can’t believe I actually thought the Kardashian’s trainer would be able to help me.” “Babe, they’re all plastic and I think that’s the only thing that will help you at this point.” “Every amazing thing about me is natural. Why would I ruin that by enhancing my features unnaturally?” You shrugged. “At least you have that going for you.” “What do you mean ‘at least’?” he asked with air quotes. “I have you, don’t I?” You didn’t expect him to say something like that. “What?” “If you’ve stuck around this long, I must be doing something right. I know I fucked up in the past, but I’m glad you’re so patient with me. It can’t be easy dating someone who only thinks about volleyball.” You smiled softly as he continued. “I want to apologize to Kageyama properly for the way I treated him. And Iwa-chan too. He always had to deal with my bs and that wasn’t his place as my friend.” “Well, he stuck around you all this time, so you must be doing something right too.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ since california is 16 hours behind, these talks would be in the middle of the day for one of you until a surprise visit happens ⇾ but usually, it would just consist of the two of you catching up ⇾ in person though, he would talk more about how freeing it is to be in a new place, away from everything that was familiar ⇾ how it feels good not to live in anyone's shadow and just start fresh ⇾ (not that he hated being with oikawa, it was just something new for him) ⇾ but also how he doesn’t want to get left behind in the game of life ⇾ how even his new friends *cough* ushiwaka *cough* is going after his dreams

“So how do you like California?” It was 2 am, you just picked up your boyfriend from the airport and you were heading back home. It was a long drive back which gave you plenty of time to talk. “It’s nice. You’re not there, but other than that, I like it.” “Don’t let Oikawa hear that,” you laughed. Iwa slid down his seat a bit and got comfortable. “It feels so freeing. It’s a new start. No one knows me as the ace of Seijoh or as the guy who’s friends with Oikawa. I enjoy people not assuming I’m gay for my best friend.” Even though he was being serious, you couldn’t help but snort at the comment. After all, you had been one of those people too. “It’s like I hit restart and I’m enjoying every minute of it.” “Do you miss anything though? You sound like you’re really enjoying it there.” “Of course I miss things and people. Even though it’s fun, I do miss Shittykawa’s annoying ass and walking in on Makki and Mattsun getting high. Hell, sometimes I miss not being around all the fangirls. But everyone is moving on with their lives, so I can’t stay stuck in the past.” You hummed to let him know you were still listening. “I refuse to get left behind. Even Ushiwaka is going after his own goals.” “Who would’ve thought you would go to a new country, run into him there, and become friends?” Iwa laughed. “Not me, and definitely not Oikawa. He still brings it up, to this day. It’s been two years and he thinks I’ve replaced him.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ high talks ⇾ i feel like he’s not stressed about much that he needs to vent or get something off his chest ⇾ would probably feel free when he’s high - free from being an adult - and would talk about that ⇾ maybe some funny stories from high school ⇾ makes lots of jokes ⇾ but once it hits him, he’ll be talking about deep shit ⇾ talks about life and everyone’s purpose, why we’re here, that sort of shit

“And then Iwa got so annoyed, he just pantsed Oikawa in front of the girl.” You giggled as Mattsun finally got the story right. “So what happened with the girl?” you asked. “I think she died in the spot because she got to see Oikawa in his underwear.” He took another hit of his blunt and blew the smoke out, over his head. “I wonder if he’s enjoying Argentina.” You glanced up at him before turning your attention back to the show neither of you were really watching. “I’m sure he misses you guys.” “I hope he finds his purpose. All that practice to never make it to nationals…” He sighed. “Iwa is studying to be a trainer. Him too. I hope he gets what he wants in life.” “And you?” Mattsun chuckled. “My purpose is to enjoy my time here. There are enough people in the world who are stressing over something or another. I’m here to balance the scale. Can’t have too much stress in the world or the negativity will just take over. That’s me and Makki, we just chilling through life. What's that saying? Que salsa?” “Que sera sera?” “Yeah that one! Oikawa said that to me when we were talking once.” “I’m surprised you remembered it.” “I’m smarter than I appear. I can’t threaten the nerds either. Balancing the scales.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ would range from crackhead ideas to deep conversations ⇾ could go from reciting a funny story about kenma to his insecurities in your relationship real fast ⇾ so kuroo is a scorpio and l i t e r a l l y every scorpio I know absolutely sucks ASS at opening up, doesn’t matter what gender ⇾ a part of his insecurities is that you’re constantly trying to get him to open up more and confide in you, but even after knowing him for as long as you have, he barely does ⇾ and it’s not that he doesn’t trust you, it’s just he doesn’t like to feel that vulnerable with anyone ⇾ there would be a lot of thanking you - for being so patient with him, for dealing with his teasing, for accepting his friends, etc ⇾ he doesn’t strike me as someone who enjoys serious conversations too much so if he felt awkward, he would try to make things more light, cue talks about the latest scientific discoveries

The two of you were calming down from a story Kuroo told you about Kenma that happened recently. “I’m sure deep down, he wishes we never became friends.” “It’s not hidden very deep. He texted me that this morning.” Moving closer to Kuroo, you rested your arms on his chest and placed your chin on top of your hands. One of his hands automatically went to card through your hair. Kuroo’s face softened as he took a moment to stare at you. “I’m sorry.” You stared at him confused. “You’ve been with me for so long. I feel like I know your entire life story and your life stories from your last five lives and here I am, unable to even bring up my childhood and family problems. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” You shrugged slightly. “I mean, yeah it’s pretty annoying but I’ve just come to…” You bit your tongue. “Come to what?” “Come to not expect anything,” you said with a sigh. That caused Kuroo to sit up, making you sit up as well. “Do you really not expect anything from me now?” “Well, not nothing. More like I’m not expecting you to open up. I’m tired of sounding clingy whenever I try to even ask about your day.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You know I never want you to feel like that, right?” You shrugged again. “I just… I don’t know, it’s just hard for me to open up to other people. I guess I’m just used to having someone who understands me without me having to say anything. Vulnerability feels so strange to me so I just try to avoid it when I can.” He took both your hands into his. “I’ll do a better job, I promise. Thank you for being patient with me.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ he’s not much of a talker, we all know this ⇾ but if you ask him the right questions (ie. being annoyingly persistent) he’ll talk ⇾ LOTS of appreciation ⇾ very grateful to all the people he’s met in his life and how each one that he holds dear to his heart plays a different role in his life ⇾ how much he cherishes the people he loves ⇾ and then the conversation would turn to you - how much he appreciates you ⇾ let’s be honest, kenma sucks ass at being affectionate, his love language is probably quality time because just knowing that you’re willing to sit with him as he streams is good enough to make his gamer heart happy ⇾ so he would take the time to fully express how much he does love you since he rarely makes it known to you in other ways

“Kenma, how much longer are you gonna play? You have class tomorrow,” you said while he was streaming. Glancing at the time, he told his viewers that he was going to wrap it up for the night and he joined you in bed. You were talking his ear off about the meet up you had with some of your friends and you could see him grow more and more irritated. “Why did you call me to sleep if you were just going to talk.” “Oh. Well, this is the only time I got to be with just you today…” You pulled the blanket higher up on your body and curled into a ball with your back to Kenma. You felt him shift under the covers until you felt his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I’m sorry. Tell me what happened next.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, we can talk in the morning.” He buried his face in your neck, giving you a soft kiss. “I love you. I don’t say that enough. I cherish you even if I don’t show you that. You and Kuroo and Shoyo. All of you are the closest people to me, and I appreciate you all so much for the different ways you’ve helped me.” You placed your hand on top of his and interlaced your fingers. “I love you too.” “How about we have lunch tomorrow? I can cancel the stream at night and we can watch a movie.” “What about the viewers?” “They can survive one night without watching me. I owe you since I’ve been a bad boyfriend.”

[darkelectron]

honestly? kinda feel like the best plan would be to just restart. change the hardscore system to something like 5 lives each (akin to 3rd life, but obviously don’t want too many similarities), come up with a name for the smp before the series starts (none of this confusion. decide on Free Trial SMP or 30SMP or 30 Days SMP or Hardcore SMP and then stick with it), and maybe pick a different area to start in. i know the whole point of the 100 x 100 world is to have limits on blocks, but ffs give us something? nothing? you give us nothing? like, have an area with multiple biomes and more than one type of tree. at least.

mainly i just think starting over would give them another chance to create a story more cohesively. it’s clear they’ve got things planned, but when charlie slimcicle dies on the first day, then what the hell is the story gonna be to make that worth it. and maybe he’s back, but now what? you say that death matters but not if it’s on the first day? that’s just realising that you created a system where the consequences are ones you feel guilty for. like i said, restarting with more deaths per person could be good. (though if anyone wants to discuss what you think they should’ve done please reply i’m interested in what other people think about this whole smp)

and like, people get bored if they can’t play with their friends. i’m glad the smp has a strict limit on how long it’ll last, but already people are running out of things to do. the pace could probably do with a bit more speed, as people are dying rapidly and the streamers are gonna feel an obligation to play on the server until something happens, which is a hard commitment if there’s nothing to do.

of course, i might be totally wrong. instead of thinking that people would survive all 30 days and that the hardcore aspect would only give the world stakes, maybe they expected so many people to die so soon. when the timer reaches 21, there may only be 2 or 3 people left, and then there’ll be an event involving all the dead people that’ll mean people dying early was necessary for the story. this clearly wasn’t an impulse idea, so if i have faith in their planning, it might just create something wonderful.

[mintyfrosty]

The Recovery

BEEP

BEEP

BEEP

[RESTART: ENGAGE]

[HEART RATE: 61 BPM]

[BLOOD PRESSURE: NORMAL]

[BRAIN ACTIVITY: LOW]

[LEVEL OF STRESS: 12%]

Warning signs echoing in his ears with a blurry vision was one of the last things the Toppat's Right Hand expected to see when he woke up. Well, that was to say if he woke up. Quite frankly, that wasn't something he was expecting. With the grinning face of Henry Stickmin opposite of him, he fell unconscious, believing that was his end. And yet, here he was, shaking the sleepiness out of his system, left hand moving to his face to try and remove the aching headache that was torturing his head. The soft texture he was lying on seemed to imply he was on a bed. How the hell did that happen?

And what the hell were the messages floating in front of him? It was almost like a digital screen.

"да, welcome back." Came a feminine voice from in front of him, causing him immediately jump with surprise. Well. 'Jump with surprise' resulting in his sitting up straight, back colliding hard with the wall behind the bed. A woman. Blonde hair. Glasses. Doctor's coat. Russian accent. Unfamiliar.

[LEVEL OF STRESS: 34%]

"Hey, easy, easy! Hey!" Commented the lady, quickly rushing over to him and patting down his right hand. The Right Hand Man couldn't register that he was panicking. Confusion swarmed his systems, the warning signs that floated in front of him. Who was this woman? What on earth was she doing in the Toppat's base? And, from what he gathered, the hell was she doing in his room? Unsure of himself, the right-hand man tried to focus on something more solid; something that had an answer to. The first thing his mind jumped to was the feeling of the woman's arm on his arm. Oddly, he didn't feel it. Well, of course, he felt it but in the sense that his arm felt numb. As if he were flying but standing firmly on the ground. However, he soon found the reason as to why his eyes falling down the arm this 'doctor' had patted.

Metal.

Pure metallic plates covered the surface area of his right arm. His eyes were captured in the sight, cursed with the confusion of his lack of knowledge on the situation. Was he dreaming? The fingers of his left hand, which was still planted to his head, tightened, nails digging into, what he thought to be skin. But it wasn't. The sound of nails against metal met his ears.

[LEVEL OF STRESS: 54%]

"Hey Hey! Can you hear me?" Echoed the woman's voice, her fingers clicking in front of his face in an attempt to get his attention. His mind was caught in a spiralling curse of thoughts. He couldn't possibly fathom the idea that was being suggested to him. Gradually, to try and answer her question, he nodded his head, blinking with genuine confusion on his facial features. Or at least the human ones he had left. Somewhat satisfied, the doctor adjusted her glasses, letting the right-hand man's arm go. Immediately, he began to inspect it, twirling it in many ways to try and grasp the knowledge he failed to understand.

"You were quite lucky, see. Head not always easy to recover. However, I was able to bring you back to life. Your chief said you wounded in battle, да?"

So it was a result of Henry then.

However, for whatever reason deemed fit, nothing stuck out more in her statements than the word 'chief'. Reginald. Shit. A deep pit of panic sunk his stomach, a lump of uncertainty developing in his throat. The stress meter curiously bounced into the 60 percentages as the echoing sound of his heartbeat raced with speed. Uncertain of what to do, the doctor gestured her right hand over to the left of where her patient was sitting before taking a small step back. And as quickly as his heart was pumping, his eyes snapped to the left.

And there he was. Face hidden underneath one top hat (his chief one was missing), and cooing softly with the rhythmic breath of his sleep. He was, awkwardly, hanging off half of the bed; torso and arms on the mattress with his legs dangling off the side that connected to the floor. He was simply dressed in a white dress shirt with tux pants with all gloves and most accessories missing. From his positioning, his expression was unreadable since his fine top hat was hiding any facial features Reginald had to offer. Most surprising, however, was the large, slightly reddish, top hat that belonged to the one and only right-hand man, that was clutched tightly in his, ironically, right hand. An immense amount of pity came over the second in command. He was waiting. Waiting for him. With a flash flick of his head, and expression desperate, the right-hand man's eyes met the doctor's.

"'ow long--" A cough erupted from his throat. Hoarseness had invaded his throat. 

"'ow long 'as 'e been...?" Pitifully, she turned her head to the sleeping chief, then back at the right-hand man.

"You were unconscious for 2 weeks. I've only allowed visitors for 3 days before now since I finished operations." That was one of the last things he wanted to hear. In hindsight, 2 weeks and 3 days were much better than 2 months or 2 years. However, it still wasn't a good amount of time. Reginald got worried when the right-hand man slept in as if he was poisoned in his sleep, as ridiculous as that sounded. Yet, when he considered this, he had to wonder how Reginald hadn't gone insane yet. Shakily, he planted his right hand onto Reginald's back. He couldn't imagine what was going through his head in that whole period. Thankfully, since the right-hand man was miserably horrid with words, the doctor seemed to get the idea the two wanting to be alone and quietly took her leave. 

[LEVEL OF STRESS: 67%]

"Reg? Io." Trying to be as gentle as humanly possible, the second in command tugged the chief's shirt. Shortly after, a small 'meh' came from the Toppat leader, delicately moving out of the realm of sleep. With no haste, Reginald pulled himself onto the bed, sitting upright on his knees. With a final yawn leaving his lips, the first in command open his eyes, blinking slowly before locking eyes with the person who had awoken him. And his expression immediately transformed into despair. If the right-hand man thought that Reginald looked horrid without seeing his face, then he looked beyond dishevelled.

Right Hand Man had only seen Reginald's moustache messy twice in his life, and this was the second. Twists and knots made the chief's moustache curly, loose hairs sticking in almost every direction. Heavy bags sat under the chief's eyes accompanied by the slight, blotchy redness that covered his face. Whether instinctively or intentionally, the first in command moved the reddish hat close to his chest, a sudden way of indescribable emotion covering his features. The Right Hand Man could only hopeless wonder what thoughts were going through the chief's head. Awkwardly, the right-hand man offered a wave.

"'ey Reg."

That did it.

Because the next thing he knew, Reginald dived into him, curling at his side and wrapping his arms around the cyborg's torso. This was one of those times where the right-hand man wished he knew how to handle the unpredictability of Reginald's emotions, or his own for that matter. Uneasy, the right-hand man placed a concerned left hand onto Reginald's back, rubbing it gently. He felt a harsh tug at his shirt.

"Don't you sca-re me like that again!" 

His voice was about as hoarse as his was, filled with such a tone, anyone could take pity on. He figured as such; he probably wouldn't've gotten much sleep either if the roles were reversed. With a hesitated sigh, the right-hand man, sunk against the pillows of the bed, his robotic arm tightly holding the chief. Out of the corner of his eye, however, the right-hand man was able to see the diamond-covered gold band on the fourth finger of Reginald's hand. He smirked, suddenly feeling grateful that he hadn't lost his left hand. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to feel the same gold band on his own fourth finger.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Small fanfic idea i’ve been wanting to do for a long while. As you can probably guess, when Right Hand Man wakes up for the first time being a cyborg. Also Copperright >;3

Small shout out to @twilightdaisi​ and @the-shark-well for fuelling the fire that is this ship >;3

Goddamn I love this ship too much.

[dayseternal-blog]

If you ever finish answering all of yours awaiting asks...

45 questions for you 👀

https://myaekingheart.tumblr.com/post/650107314353897472/fic-writer-ask-game

Lolllll BADLUCKBREBIS, you are so funny.

Inspiration and Reading Asks:

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

It looks like I started writing in 2017. I've been reflecting recently on how there are so many regularly active writers now compared to in 2017-2018. It was the tail-end of some of my fave writer's activity within fandom. Utsus was posting less and less. The Tumblr NaruHina fandom seemed to disappear, a whole community of writers left for other things (matchaball, nekomamoru, magmawrites, cherryjutsu, spyder-m, tenney-shoes, eliphya, among others). 2018 was a very quiet year, but! I avidly read katarinahime and bunnyhoodlum's works! In 2019, quirrrky restarted things with NaruHina Week!

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

Recently I’m primarily a reader!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Because there's so many writers now!!!!!!!!

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

Yeah, let’s list them.  “A Special Friend” by agitosgirl inspired “Nightdreams.  “Medicine” by @grimmjowkurosakidrake​ inspired “White Lilies.  “Torch Song” by @mmmbuttery inspired “About You.”  The language in “Unless the World Were to End” by @bunny-hoodlum​ inspired the language in “That was the plan.”  “In Between Drinks” by @peppercornpress inspired “In Between Drinks NH.”

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

“Operation: Bring Home Naruto” by Dragonwannabe - Rated T, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Complete. Hinata's been assigned the mission of getting Naruto back home safely after his last dangerous assignment. But can she handle the undercover identity as his girlfriend that she’d been given without revealing her true feelings for him?

“The Mission” by Lunawraythe - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. It wasn't that Hinata never expected to work with Naruto, just never on a mission quite like this.

“The Loving Type” by @peppercornpresses - Rated M, Canon-Divergent, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. A few years have passed since the Fourth Shinobi War, in which...Rookie Nine steadily advances in rank. Naruto gets engaged. Hinata leaves Konoha. And Kakashi schemes for days.

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

ahhh.  I do have quite a few pet peeves.  If the fic is Canon-Compliant or Canon-Divergent, I expect Naruto and Hinata to behave like Japanese people.  Say what you want, but the Naruto Universe is definitely Japanese in my book.  So that means no shoes in the house.  Nothing rattles me more than reading Hinata taking her sandals off before climbing into bed.  Like, what?  she was wearing her outdoor shoes indoors this whole time??

mmm... another pet peeve is when the writer describes Hinata in a kimono, but it sounds like an American Halloween costume, like the slutty version, instead of an actual kimono.

mmm... and the other big pet peeve I have is when it’s Hinata’s first time eating ramen because Naruto is showing her the wonders of ramen.  lol.  why.  how.  in what world would a Japanese person make it to their teenage years without ever eating ramen.

I have a bunch of other little pet peeves regarding Japanese culture in fanfics.  But in general, it doesn’t stop me from reading the fic if I'm already in the middle of it.  I’ll continue reading it and will probably recommend it to other people anyway. If I can tell based on the summary, then it's not for me, and I don't read it. If this makes anyone feel nervous about writing fanfiction, that's not my intention! I would also be happy to be a sensitivity reader if necessary.

6. How do you find new fic to read? Where do you primarily read fanfiction?

I primarily read fanfics on AO3 and ffnet.  I find new ones by constantly checking the Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto tag on AO3 or looking into a writer’s favorites list on ffnet.

7. Do you prefer to read short fics or long fics?

Short fics.

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

I reblog pretty often. I don't comment as often as I used to😕 I used to comment on every fic I liked.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

Uhh?? Idk. I think recently the writing group here is pretty tight, everyone seems to know everyone.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Naruto fandom and NaruHina.

Fanfiction Writing Asks:

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

I usually take it from words used in the story or from the prompt.

12. Tell the author your favorite fic title of theirs (not the fic, strictly title). Author: what’s your favorite title you’ve come up with and why?

I think...maybe "Tell Me of Forevers" or "Nightdreams." I like those because they aren't taken word-for-word directly from the story, but touch on a theme in the story.

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

Yes, I outline. They wouldn't get a headache, I think. It's usually just a summary.

14. Do you have a personal word minimum that you hold yourself too? Why or why not?

Nope. I didn't know people do that.

15. Tell the author your favorite fic of theirs. What’s your (the author’s) favorite fic you’ve written?

My favorite fic continues to be "It's No Secret."

16. Do you research for your fics? If so, how deep of a rabbit hole have you gone down by accident when researching?

Yes, I do. I've done historical and folktale research for "Little Samurai." I did area/location research for "Last Chance." I did historical research for "About You." I did fairy tale research for "Catskin." I did a ton of astronomy research for "The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl." And I did lighting research for "Inspo." I go pretty deep.

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback?

I don't. I usually have something else I need to do or I go to bed.

18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie?

I actually think I can finish all of mine if I just try.

19. Do you edit your fics after you write them, or do you prefer to just hit post and run (because it’s someone else’s problem now)?

I always edit before posting to AO3. Anything I post directly on Tumblr might not be edited.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Posting!

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Starting a new chapter.

22. Do you take fic requests? If so, for what characters and why?

On occasion. If someone sends me a request, I'll think about writing it. Sometimes I do write and post it, sometimes I leave them in my drafts for a better day.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

From what I already have posted, probably friends-to-lovers, secret relationship/forbidden love, or high school au. I don't think I have an intentional favorite.

24. What’s a trope that you’d like to never hear about as long as you live, let alone write?

Public humiliation / public degradation.

25. Do you listen to music as you write? If possible, link your writing playlist.

No, not usually.

26. What’s your biggest distraction when writing?

Tumblr feed, all the pictures to scroll through mindlessly.

27. Do you like to give your readers some warning of what might be coming or just slap them in the face with content at random?

lol, whatever is fine.

28. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie: pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc)?

Well, pressure to update is not a big deal to me. I do this for fun, so I don't think I unnecessarily pressure myself too much. With negative comments, I don't get too many of those, and I think I do my best to avoid situations where I might get negative feedback.

29. Have you ever written for an exchange or event of some kind? Which one(s)? Did you enjoy it?

Yeah, I like the events. My favorite was NH2020, the year-long one last year. I also enjoyed the Secret Santa last year since @badluckbrebis was my giftee.

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words.

haha😈

Ecstasy slides through his veins, blooming over his mind, cocooning him in pleasant sensations, cum shooting out in eager twitches against hot, milking flesh.

31. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

Naruto Uzumaki, always.

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

Top 3 faves in order:

That was the plan: "She shifts in his arms, and cloth and cleavage come pillowing up to his face, and he’s certain that she’s scooped from the same puffy stuff his adolescent daydreams were made of."

Tell Me of Forevers: "What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him."

White Lilies: "Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere. (It’s okay.)"

I consider "White Lilies" to have my technically best writing, so it was kind of hard to choose just one line from that fic! But I decided that one's my favorite line from the whole story.

33. What do you like writing better: one shots or multi-chapter stuff?

One-shots.

34. How much of yourself and your life experiences do you put into your writing? What do you think your readers’ image of you is?

A lot of my life experiences are in my writing. Hmm, I think readers probably think I'm...hmm...either empathetic or really perverted?

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

I spend a lot less time on real-life social media than before.

36. Are there any fics or fandoms you’re embarrassed to have written or been part of?

I'm kind of embarrassed of "Honeymoon at the Hot Springs" lol. It's fine.

37. Give an update on your current WIP - if you don’t have one, give a sneak peek to a title or idea that you have and would like to write.

My current WIP is that A/B/O fic I started for February Smut Month Prompts: Sweet as Candy or Love Bites. I'm going to title it "Sweet As," and it'll be about how Naruto and Hinata become Alpha/Omega mates. It's really kinky, really smutty, and totally what I would want to read.

38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)?

uhh???? a 1?? I've never once thought of my writing process as chaotic. Ahh, then I think of bunnyhoodlum's multiple drafts for the same chapter, and I realize that there exist types of writing processes that I would not be able to handle...

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

My smut.

40. How did you come up with the idea for [x fic]?

41. What’s your most popular fic (with the most notes on tumblr, most hits/kudos on ao3)?

Idk about Tumblr,,, maybe White Lilies got the most attention here. My most popular fic is Nightdreams on AO3.

42. Asker: pick three of the author’s works. Author: rank them 1 (the best) - 3 (the worst) based on whatever criteria you want - this could be something totally random that isn’t quality related (like simply ranking fics based on how many trains appear in them) - have fun!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I will always remember how people congratulated me for finishing White Lilies😭 Also, when peppercornpresses made that FIRST art of my story, I just, I just stared at it all day.

44. Rant about something writing related.

hmmm, I don't feel like ranting about anything. I just recently ranted about my pet peeves above.

45. Fic specific questions - if you have any weird questions about specific works, here’s your shot to ask them!

I did them all! Nice questions.