#I've been having trouble keeping a muse on here too

[andy-wm]

I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB

It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?

Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.

So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?

Maybe.

But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.

It's sweet, so sweet, but....

Maybe it's a little too sweet?

We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.

But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.

Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.

"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.

So what's really going on here?

What are you doing Jiminie?

And more importantly, why are you doing it?

You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.

But my view is:

This a pantomime. And it's very clever.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment,  originating in Roman mime, in which  performers express meaning through  gestures  accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.

Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.

Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.

The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.

There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.

But back to the Pantomime itself...

A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.

Gender role reversal - TICK

Slapstick comedy - TICK

Colourful costumes - TICK

Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)

Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK

Take another look at the music video - it's all there.

Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:

The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.

Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.

Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"

Welcome, Loco.

(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)

So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.

If it's a pantomime, what is it about?

I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...

but real love takes a little longer.

Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).

In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...

But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.

Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...

At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.

We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band

It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.

After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.

The children run over to him and the tale begins.

Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.

He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".

But he mentions June 12th.

Why June 12th?

Why not 13th, their debut day?

BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.

He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.

Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".

Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.

Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.

Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.

He sings:

"All the things we couldn't say before

And your hidden feelings too (just for you)

Don't you worry anymore

Since we're together now**

Let's be a little more honest."

So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.

<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>

Hang on, what's happening in the MV??

On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.

He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.

Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.

Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??

ALL MEN??

ALL MEN?!!!!!

Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.

So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.

He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.

He sings:

"Ooooh I love you babe,

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.

The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...

[Enter stage left: Loco]

Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.

They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:

The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....

It's *The Golden Hour*

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.

Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...

fucking sunflowers bloom.

SUN FLOWERS.

BLOOM.

FOR HIM.

<I need to lie down and process this>

SUNflowers...

Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.

Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.

SMH... let's move on.

Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:

"So tell me how you feel,

let whatever you feel

wash over you"

Then he sings

"I love you babe, (yessir)

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture again

👉 👈

The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>

"I think we're ready now

<NGL I may have shed a tear here>

Lets begin 1, 2

<Ok fuck, I bawled at this point. Goddammit Jimin!>

Put your hands up"

*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.

Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.

The show is over.

*THE END*

But wait, I am not done.

A few more things bear mentioning here:

I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.

It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.

I wanna hold your hand

This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...

I am you, You are me

The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.

All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.

I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.

The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.

I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.

"Even though we're together now"

These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?

It's strategically brilliant.

This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.

AND FINALLY....

The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.

The song is bookended by references to BTS.

That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.

💛+💙=💚

So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY

🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈

Thank you Jiminie

[toomiieimagiines]

Umumum, did you see the kissing hcs you did for akito and tsukasa? I would like a rui one if that's okay :3

It feels weird to request something like this

𖦹 hii! don’t feel awkward about it, i’ve been waiting for something cute like this for a while! let’s stop torturing rui for a while, and let him kiss reader!! (o^^o) sorry for hiatus, i have a bunch going on rn but i have a ton of writing qued up now! i’m just using a short one first to tease u guys! lololllll! do u guys like the new bullet points btw? i just think they're the cutest thing! also, i was thinkin of opening up some sort of commission to help with my banners! i can write you a however long fic if you just give me some pointers… or make some for me… i can credit you under every time i use them as well! LOLOLZ

♪ no warnings! (see before one shot for those warnings tho! (＞人＜;))

Rui Kamishiro Kissing Hc’s + more!?

☆ For starters, he was TOTALLY freaking out before your first kiss

☆ He just wants to impress you! Is that so wrong?

☆ DEFINITELY the kind of person who accidentally keeps his eyes open… Scary…

☆ He had never kissed anyone, or even dated! He didn’t want you to think he was weird if he messed up!

☆ Held your cheek so nicely too

☆ He’s always so gentle with you… :(

☆ Was a total wall for a while, he was always really tense…

☆ He did of course lighten up after a while, but not without a fight

☆ After he realized you weren’t out to get him, he turned into a FIEND

☆ “Sweetheart, I've been doing so good, y’know? I think I deserve something…”

☆ “I really missed you today…”

☆ Kisses with him always have a bit of reluctance to them, though

☆ His signature move is the tried-and-true shifty eyes, darting his gaze from yours, down to your lips, and back up again. He just wants to make sure you look into it!

☆ After that, it's brow-furrowing, the passion exploding

☆ Spontaneous kisses are VERY possible with him, throwing himself over to you when something particularly works in his favor

☆ He enjoys kisses that come from hugging the best. Feeling you close AND getting your lips on his? Sign him up!

☆ He’s also one to tease you when you kiss

☆ When you guys are comfortable, you really should watch out!

☆ He likes to pull you back when you least expect it, and WHAM!

☆ Doesn’t just love your lips either! He’s OBSESSED with kissing the top of your head!

☆ Again with the teasing, he likes to play Romeo and kiss your hands too

☆ He likes to be kissed on the cheek a lot, especially if you wear makeup and leave a kiss mark!

☆ Parades it around like a trophy

☆ The most offended you’d ever see him is if you wipe his kiss off. NEVER wipe his kiss off. He’d never kiss you again in fear he’s an awful kisser

☆ His kisses never really get spitty. If you want constant teeth clattering or biting, he’s not the one for you…

☆ Only time anything hasty happens is when he’s really upset

☆ He loves you - a ton - so please be nice with him too..

ayyyyy!! who’s proud of lil ol’ me?? here’s a mini mini oneshot! not long at all, but i thought the idea was cute! now that i think abt it, this was more just my musing… has a kissy kiss tho, so yay! it’s REALLY OOC sry… i’m rly not all that proud of this work, but it’s embarrassing how long it’s been since i’ve posted so i decided whatever take wut i give ya!!

TW: small issues with eating (rui has autism and trouble with textures (mild ARFID), you help him by trying to make nutritious food he won’t want to spew. . lmao… his problem has NOTHING to do with body image/weight, he’s just very particular..)

Rui wants to kiss you, you want to kiss Rui, and its causing you trouble.

It's been 4 years since you've been friends, 2 days since you've been dating, and you've been staring at each other for… how long are these stupid periods? Whatever, the short story is; the teacher made a million-dollar mistake (letting you two partner up for a group project), and everybody in your class is suffering because of it.

It's a classic story, you talk like everything’s normal, brush hands, look away, sputter something out, stare at each other, and freeze when you realize the other is staring right back. People - yourselves included - have seen you two be so natural together, so the simple fact of you two being so awkward is… unsettling. Little did they know, you both are going through some of the worst identity crises known to the angst-riddled teenage mind.

Rui is scared. To expand, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you. To expand further, Rui is scared of how much he wants to kiss you, because you look so nervous around each other all the time since the thing, and he knows that asking you would be awkward enough to want to dig himself a grave out of embarrassment.

He wishes you would just wear the pants and ask, as horrible as that sounds. Why should he be the man and make the first move? He’s hardly manly, he wears striped sweaters…

He finds that way of thinking farcical, he knows it’s dumb to wait for you to ask, but he can’t help it. You asked him out (kinda, it was a genuinely… unique experience), and you should be the one to initiate a first kiss. Rui had never kissed anyone before! Can’t you take one for the team? He’s sure you’ve kissed people, how could you have not?

You were thinking the same thing, of course.

I mean, you already had to make him sit through your painfully long-winded and uncoordinated confession, the least he could do is this! He's definitely kissed someone, you decide, you haven't! It isn't fair to expect you to know what to do!

To everyone else, said simply, you both look schizophrenic.

The way you two decide how to split up the work, the way you two talk to each other as if you're perfect strangers, is confusing for both of you.

“O-Oh, uh- I can- y'know- I can do the writing, I don't mind-”

Your hands graze the others while reaching for the cheap school laptop.

“Sorry!-” You both squeak in unison, pulling away as if you had burned each other. Damnit! This is so annoying! You have to speak up.

“Rui we’re- c'mon, you're still my best friend, so why’re we acting like this?-” You try to laugh, covering your face in frustration. “Be normal, we do this all the time.”

Fortunately, he loves you more than his embarrassment, so your words quickly calm him down.

You both are just so dramatic!

Later, the lunch bell saves you from the hell-sent assignment, and you meet at your usual spot for lunch. You pull two lunch boxes out of your bag, and he grows anxious.

He squints at the sun, his hand cupping his face. “It’s been warm out, even for me. Do you think so?”

Really, Rui? You want to say, small talk? Is this to get out of the real food you want to feed him? Yeah, right.

“You’ll be pretty warm when I strangle you.” You remark, handing him his. “Heard you get sweaty when you fight for air, so you better not piss me off.” You point for emphasis, forcing down your smile. He has to keep from smiling too.

“Well, now i’m feeling nauseous,” he looks away, chuckling. “I think I’ll call someone..”

“Yeah, right. Like you’d find someone else to cut you cutely-shaped vegetables.” You nudge him with your shoulder, pointing again to his lunchbox as if to say eat. Eat now, or die later.

“Maybe a toddler's mom,” He pokes his veg to the side, “or a professional lunchbox maker. Something stupid like that.”

“I bought you soda candy if you’re a good boy and finish all your vegetables.”

“Aye aye, cap’n!” He fake saluts, looking at his lunch with a new-found determination.

“You're too easy, I should be a dog trainer.” You sit, watching him inspect the offending food. He knows you're watching him, and you know he knows you're watching him. You do it because it gives him a reason to actually try, letting him know that if he doesn't eat, you won't.

“You really went with a challenge today...” He squints.

“Why’d you think I bought soda candy?”

“Ah.”

A beat, you glare at him.

“Are you just going to look at it?” You prod, he ponders.

“What's my conversation rate?”

“Two bites to one candy.”

“That seems greedy.”

“Candy-flation. Its a real issue nowadays.”

Another beat, you have to pick up the silence again.

“So whats the plan?”

“You can eat, y'know. I'd rather you not starve to death.”

“Feelings mutual, Rui.”

“Touché.”

He picks one thing up, bringing it to his lips, and you do the same. You smile cockily, knowing he gave in.

“It's good, I promise. I only cooked ‘em for a little bit, so they shouldn't be too mushy.” You speak up, a piece of chicken in your cheek. “I even put meat in it, since you complained last time that it was too “vegetable-y”.”

He nods, chewing slowly with apprehension filling his body. As he continues to chew, however, his reluctance melts away slightly. He always doubts you for nothing! Why doesn’t he trust you? This isn’t bad at all.

“Good, huh? Proud of you,” you encourage. “Rui 2, broccoli 0. Hold out your hand.” You instruct, placing a candy on his palm. “Give me some feedback. Is the sauce a Rui yay or nay?”

“Makes broccoli better, so I like it.” He nods, confirming himself. You fist pump, thrilled he enjoyed it. He sighs at the taste of the sweet gummy, “I like this better though, if you could believe it.”

“Rui liking candy? I don't!” You feign surprise, holding a hand to your chest. He pushes you away playfully.

“Whatever,” he pauses, swallowing. “Do I uh- Do I have to finish?”

“If you wanna live, then yeah.” You joke, holding up an unconvincing first. He laughs.

You two forget about your shared desire, if only for a little bit.

It ends when he walks you home.

You guys were completely normal the whole school day! You both don't know where the sudden apprehension is even coming from, and it’s just…

awkward.

Rui clears his throat, pulling on his coat with an unneeded sense of urgency. You don't know why he felt the need to get your attention, you've been sneaking glances at him for the last 15 minutes.

“So, uh-” he starts, looking away. You know he's about to try for small talk, and it's welcome. “Tsukasa got sick, can you believe it?”

Ah, you were wondering why he didn't have anything to do today.

“I feel bad for his parents, I’d hate to have to nurse ‘kasa back to health,” you snicker, and he joins in reluctantly.

“Me too.”

Another round of silence overtakes the two of you, it’s suffocating.

“So I-“

“Would you-“

You both start, then stop just as quickly. The stifling atmosphere of your shared embarrassment leaves you both speechless.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You two don’t try to start again, not until you two reach your house.

“So…” you start. Everything feels so surreal. If you would've told yourself three days ago you'd be in a relationship with your best friend, you’d have never believed yourself.

“So.” He agrees, nodding. He's feeling as messed up as you are, he hopes you know that… “I can get started on that project tomorrow-”

“C'mon, Rui!-” you exclaim, grabbing his hands. You're sick of the tension - the apprehension - you just wanted to know where he was with it. Did he not want to be in a relationship with you? “I- Can you just tell me if you wanted to stay friends? This is so awkward!”

“It's not that, truly.” He defends, squeezing your hands. He can't believe you'd think that. Can you not see how endeared you are to him? A wave of relief washes over you, though. At least that suspicion wasn't confirmed. “I just- well…” He starts, getting flustered, “I get nervous…” His voice goes quieter, and he pulls you closer.

You swallow hard, your faces closer than before. The urge comes back- the feeling of desire to not only call him your boyfriend (something that already leaves a fuzzy feeling in your stomach), but to do romantic things with him. To touch him, hold him, breathe him in- even simply kiss him. Those things are why you decided to even tell him in the first place, why you were so discontent with your previous friendship.

Rui felt the same way too. He found his heart utterly devoted to the idea of you, and not much else. He saw in himself a restless animal, listening to every word you said like it was poetry.

All of this is to say that you two were at an impasse.

“Rui,” you beg, staring into his eyes, “let's be weird! I want to do things for the first time with you! I want to-”

A hand on your cheek breaks you from your monologue; your heart tightens.

Rui looks down at you, his expression something you can’t completely describe. He stares at you back, then he goes down to your lips, then back at you.

His voice is a whisper when he breaks the silence.

“Is this okay?”

You freeze. Is what okay? Why is he looking at you like that? Your knees turn into jelly as you realize.

Oh, he wants to kiss you.

You nod feverishly, leaning in.

Your collective thoughts quiet when your lips connect, and for once you’re not worried about trivial things like tension. It’s wonderful - still very reluctant, both being terrified of disappointing the other - but still heartskippingly amazing.

His eyebrows furrow as he deepens the kiss, moving off of pure instinct. He’s glad his first kiss is with you - he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s no teeth, no fire, just small bursts of heat. You two have never been the kind to be rough with each other, after all, and it’s shown in the way you take care of one another.

His knees lock at the feeling of total gentleness from you, basking in the way you feel. It’s a calm reminder to both of you that; yes, you love each other, and no, you’re not just friends anymore.

like all good things, though, it came to an end eventually, as you two unfortunately had to breathe. (That isn’t to mention the fact that the blistering heat - combined with the strenuous activity, and embarrassment of doing this while standing on your very seeable porch - was leading you both to an embarrassing amount of perspiration.)

He looks down at your connected hands then back up at you, his face giddy and lopsided. “I should go home before it gets too dark, huh?”

You laugh too, heart pounding at the feeling of puppy love. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

It’s not a question, it’s a promise. A promise that you WILL be at school and WILL speak to him like normal.

“‘Course,” he confirms.

He walks home just a little quicker that night, anxious to tell Nene all about it.

(the ironic thing, is that as soon as you closed your front door, you texted her too.)

[crownmemes]

Domestic Bickering Sentences, Vol. 3

(Sentences for problems - big, small, serious, and light - between muses in a relationship. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I fail to see what you hope to achieve with this approach."

"How about we just go home and pretend this day never happened?"

"Don't you dare play the innocent with me!"

"You’re doing that thing where you pretend to know more than everyone else in the world."

"That look in your eye is a pain in my ass. You know that, right?"

"You're untidy! You've always been untidy!"

"You danced like a wildebeest!"

"You're too smart to play the victim."

"Don't be so grumpy!"

"I love you. I've just got a funny way of showing it, that's all."

"You're nothing but a petulant child!"

"I do hope that I'm not about to regret the soft spot that I have for you."

"Close your eyes and make a wish!"

"I can handle my own problems! I've done it for a long time before you came along!"

"Every once in a while, I like to hear the voice of someone who's on my side."

"Do you honestly think that now is the right time for this conversation?"

"Look, we all have tough days. All I'm saying is you've got to do your best to be nice to people."

"Are you mad at me or something?"

"Have you ever even tried to think about things from my point of view?"

"You keep promising that, but I don't see anything happening!"

"I'm competing for your attention again, aren't I?"

"Have you any idea how ridiculous you sound?"

"Can we just enjoy each other's company for a little while?"

"Go on; I know you can't resist the urge to say 'I told you so'."

"I'm going for a walk before I say something I deeply regret."

"So what goes on in here, huh? What are you hiding?"

"You're such a snob!"

"That was a really stupid thing to do!"

"Why didn't you say anything about this before?"

"Don't you dare!"

"You're too bloody perfect, that's your trouble!"

"What happened to your resolution to be more accepting?"

"Don't you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"Don't be an asshole. Do you want to hear this or not?"

[syd-vixious]

2004 poto x reader prompt: you gotta write something about erik learning to be comfortable w his natural hair. 2004 erik is one of the few eriks that isn’t balding so i’m so surprised no one commented more on how reader not just accepts him being maskless but being wigless too. playing with his hair? 🥺🥺

A/N: My first Erik request!! I'm honestly so happy that I've been getting requests for this delicious man. Like I did in my earlier post, I've been on a poto hyperfixation recently. It's to the point where I'm planning on being the Phantom for halloween this year lol. Anyway, thank you anon for the request and I hope it's to your liking!

Insecurities

Summary: Erik keeps an eye on you at all times when he cannot be near. But, how will he feel about himself when he observes you helping other men with their luscious hair on their “perfect” scalp.

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

It was late at night at the Palais Garnier. Most of the actors, dancers, and crew have already head to bed for the night or were in the process of said task. You took the time to slip away from the prying eyes of the world above, heading to one of the secret entrances that led to the catacombs below the opera house.

After a tiring day of rehearsals, you longed to be in the comforting arms of your darling. As you hurriedly headed down the steps to where he resided, you were caught off guard by the silence. Normally, especially if Erik knew you would be arriving, he would be either playing his magnificent organ or singing with his velvet-laced voice. Concern etching itself to your features, you continued to make your way to his sanctuary.

Once you arrived, you were surprised to see him absent from his spot where he would wait for you. "Erik, dear? Are you here?" you paused for a moment, waiting for a response.

Walking to where his bed was located, you saw the dark curtains drawn and heard the music box playing from the makeshift bedroom. With gentle steps, you entered and saw Erik holding a handheld mirror, his Phantom wig and mask placed upon his head.

You stepped behind him, softly placing your hands upon his shoulders as you gaze at his reflection. "What bothers you, my love?" you asked, worry lacing your tone.

With a huff, he placed the mirror down, standing up and walking out of the room, "It is nothing for you to be concerned about." he inclined in a cold tone.

You followed him back out to the main area, watching him sit down at his organ, trying to find a piece to play that might help whatever thoughts are racing through his mind at the moment. You gave a soft sigh and crouched beside him.

"Erik, darling, I know when something is troubling you. Please, tell me what is flowing through your beautiful mind at this moment." You reached up towards his mask, causing him to flinch and catch your wrist the moment your fingertips grazed the surface.

When his misty eyes met your own, he sighed, "How do you even bare to glance at me?"

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "What ever do you mean?"

He let go of your wrist, bringing his hand back up to his face to remove his wig and mask to expose his true features underneath. "How could you want to glance at this hellish gargoyle each day and decide not to choose someone else? Someone less deformed, someone who wasn't a mistake made by God?"

Your face went from confusion to sorrow, feeling his pain and insecurities that laced his words. You took his hand, standing him up and guiding him back to the bedroom area. Taking a seat and patting the empty space beside you, silently asking him to join you.

He complied, facing you with confusion in his eyes.

With a loving gaze, you held his face gently, "Erik, my love, my muse... I speak to you every day to be with you. I join you in your song to hear you. I lay with you each night to feel you. You are the most important thing in my life. You were, by no means, a mistake from God. You were a gift, a blessing that I am overjoyed to have met each and every day."

You began to caress the deformed side of his face tenderly, "So tell me, what bothers your heart, my angel?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch before speaking. "I saw you with some of those bastard men today. You were helping them style their perfect hair on their perfect scalps. Then you come here just to be around this disappointing beast that lies before you."

You frown, upset that the events of today were bothering him this much. You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his forehead, placing your own against it after. "My sweet, I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. The hairdresser for rehearsal did not arrive today so they had me take her place for the time being."

With a soft caress, you combed your hands through his hair, making sure to be gentle as to not hurt him. "It doesn't matter how those men look in physical appearance, it means nothing to me."

You moved his head to rest on your chest as you held him, "The amount of hair on your beautiful head does not matter to me. Besides, my love, your hair is softer than the finest of silk. I love you for who you are, Erik."

His voice hitched as tears soaked your chest, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You placed a kiss on his head, holding him close to you.

"I love you. My angel, my muse, my Y/n."

[naffeclipse]

I've been musing over a few thoughts inspired by this ask about a mafia-ish style of Apex Polarity without it being too close to Pearl Eye, and after watching a few videos of Orcas hunting their prey (which included dolphins), landed on a sort of Mafia inspired Apex Polarity AU

Also not to add another Y/N to Orclipse's growing collection but this Y/N is a white-beaked dolphin. Look! They're so beautiful!

Sirens are cunning, brutal, and take everything with teeth and claws. The strongest kill and maim at a whim. As a siren who's not particularly strong, though incredibly agile, with a tail streamlined and dark gray with white patches, fins curved and mostly black, you're somewhere at the bottom. You're doing your best to survive and avoid trouble. You pick your battles and you pick your escapes, and most importantly, you stay alive.

But then you do something really stupid: you venture where you shouldn't have.

You don't usually swim so far up north but you're hungry, and the thought of a few tasty squids distracts you from the silent waters and vast, blue emptiness. You realize a bit too late that you're not the only one hunting.

You catch the first orca siren in the distance as a dark figure, and then another. Two who immediately cut through the water, charging straight for you like shadows. Though you turn tail and bolt, you quickly spot them in the corner of your vision. They easily keep pace, their size and strength overwhelming as they flank you on both sides, wide grins flashing their deadly teeth. You can hardly look at the mismatched color of their eyes as you dodge and weave, diving down only to be cut off by one with midnight blue colors at the tip of his flukes, and shooting off to the left just to almost be snatched by the black-bone claws of a siren with bright yellow fins framing his head.

They're toying with you. You know that for a fact in how they just barely keep back, corraling you onwards, draining your already spent energy, and picking at your panicking pulse. You have no choice but to avoid the edges of their jaws and the tips of their talons, and swim in the direction they want.

You near a field of ice floes floating on the water, and though you cut into the jagged structures dipping into the sea, the orca sirens never lose you. A desperate need for air pushes you onward. One small drop of hope still burns in your chest. Despite the aching of your muscles, you steal a gulp of oxygen and dip back down once more, charging away—

Only to run smack into a third orca siren.

This one grabs you, his burning red and orange colors filling your vision. The other two orcas join to help their kin keep you in place long enough for you to truly regret ever venturing here. Between the three of what you can only assume are brothers, hands hooked over you shoulders, claws clutching your wrists, and palms pressing into your hips, you're a fish caught in a net.

You brace for a voilent end. It never arrives. Instead of digging into your sweet meat, the sirens offer you a deal. The tips of sharp fingertips trace your jawline and the soft inside of your arms and down your slick tail while they explain.

You keep watch for human ships and report back when they're getting close, and in exchange, you get the best food you can imagine, the entire Arctic Ocean to swim, and anything else you'd like. The best benefit? You're under their protection. Of course, they expect utter loyalty from you. You are no one else's. Failure to devote yourself to this work and the brothers would mean a grisly fate, but hey, you're nothing if not eager to not be torn apart. So you agree.

You have a few questions about this whole arrangement, struggling to understand why they, powerful orca sirens, bother with a smaller fish like you when they could rip you limb from limb and be done. What's with the human ships? Why task you to this? Are you just fodder so they can keep their fins nice and unscabbed? They reassure you that they'll explain in due time (the sunny one booping your nose, much to your chagrin), but for now, all you know to know is that the human ships are a problem, and you are their solution for it. You've never really encountered humans before, but they've never really encountered sirens, or so you thought.

The burning red one lets you go, but you don't slip away too far before he tugs on your flukes and tells you to follow him. It's not a request. The darker blue one leaves for a moment, jetting away as the other two guide you to a nice resting place on an icy shore. They introduce themselves, and then their brother reappears with a squid in hand, half dead, and an insistence that you eat—they could tell during the chase that you didn't have all your energy.

And that's how you unwittingly join a very powerful pod of orca brothers who may or may not be teasing and taunting you simultaneously.

[gingerteawrites]

"I wanna be yours" - Gojo Satoru

A/N: Fellas, I have returned! Been wanting to post more often, so I'll try actually making a schedule for myself. Anyways, enjoy :)

Content: JJK sorcerer!reader, kind of canon, Gojo x reader, mostly fluff, teeny weeny angst

Gojo Satoru had always gotten everything he wanted in life. Many called him spoiled, but being a prodigy came with its perks. No one ever dared to stand in the way. And those who did never stood for long anyway.

So from the moment you were transferred to Jujutsu High and his crystal eyes laid on you, he knew he wanted you. He marveled at the way you treated your students and fellow staff members. The sweetness of your smile haunted his dreams. He had made up his mind, and nothing could get in the way.

Except you. You got in the way.

"Hey, sweetheart? Wanna grab desserts after classes are done today?" He asks, leaning against your desk as you finish grading your students' tests.

"Sorry Gojo," you look up from your paperwork, adjusting your frames on your nose. "I've got to finish up some lesson plans."

He sulked openly, lips pursed as he lifted his blindfold. Frustration gnawed at his insides. He'd been trying to go out with you one-on-one for months now. But you always found a way to turn him down.

"Can't spare me a little time?" He drew closer. You could feel the cursed energy radiate off of him. Even when he wasn't trying, the Strongest's aura was something that could not be ignored.

"Next time, okay?" Your eyes returned to your papers, and he sighed in defeat.

There was never a "next time".

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

The Kyoto sister-school exchange event had just concluded. Cursed energy flowed through you while you worked on healing the injured students. "Thank you ___-san." Itadori beamed at you, the worn out skin around his knuckles slowly repairing.

"You're welcome Yuuji-kun." You returned the smile, standing up to move towards Shoko who had just finished patching up Maki.

The students, fully healed started to part ways. You made sure everyone was set and after a small debrief with Yaga on the special grades' attacks, you walked outside the main building.

"Is Gojo still meeting with the higher-ups? I can't believe they managed to attack us here." You mused, sitting on one of the benches outside the classrooms with Shoko.

She took a long draw from her cigarette and lazily turned towards you.

"I promise you he would appear right this second if he could." Her smoky voice danced in the afternoon breeze. "Couldn't resist you being here." She spoke as if it was fact.

You shook your head to yourself, looking down at your lap with a chuckle. "Pfft, he's just flirty Ieiri. I don't think too much of it." The idea of having Satoru's attention was not unpleasant. His presence always made your heart beat a little faster, after all. But you would never give yourself false hopes. He could have anyone he wanted, and the prospect was more than enough to make you want to keep your distance.

Shoko just shook her head, the cloud of smoke hanging around her parting when she stood. "If thinking that is what helps you sleep at night," she waved with a turn "I'll see you."

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

Too many things had happened. Getting attacked by multiple special grades, half of the school destroyed, the kids hurt. The balance of the Jujutsu society felt like a wreck and you knew that October 31st spelt even more trouble.

You sat in one of your empty classrooms, head on the desk with your eyes fixed outside the window. You had to prepare for Shibuya. A deep sense of anxiety gnawed at your insides, causing you to close your eyes in hope of some respite.

However, the sound of doors sliding open prompted them open, turning your head to identify the intruder. There stood Gojo with his blindfold off, a rare occurrence.

"Hello, sweetheart." He approached your desk, pulling a chair to sit beside you.

"Hi, Gojo." You replied, tired voice barely carrying through the room. His azure eyes traced your features.

His hand slowly coming up to brush against your cheek. And you didn't pull away. The soothing touch was oh so welcome. It drew you out of the anxious hole your mind was digging.

"Before we go out there." He paused, voice uncharacteristically soft. Smooth. Not putting on a show, but deeply honest. "Before the fighting starts... I need to be sure."

"Sure of what?" You couldn't help but lean into his touch. He chuckled, almost humorlessly.

"I've been trying. In not so subtle ways." He spoke quietly. "I just want to hear you say it. That you truly don't want me."

Your eyes widened, body stilling. The wind blew in through the window, the chill of the outside filling the room.

"Satoru... I..." Your mouth gaped, in a desperate search for words.

"I wanna be yours." He assured, thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Even if it's the last thing I do." He took in a deep breath, drawing closer so that there were only a few inches left between you. "Will you let me?"

Your thoughts melded together into a hazy mush, breath taken away by his words. By his closeness. You weren't sure you could formulate the correct words. To express how much you wanted it too. How much you wanted to be his. How much you reveled in his closeness, despite the parts of your mind that screamed that it was hopeless. That he was too good for you. That this could end too soon for either of you.

So you pushed all thoughts away and acted on instinct. You closed the gap, plush lips meeting his in a tender embrace. Your hand rested along his jaw, pulling him closer and he responded to your invitation, gently slipping a hand around your neck. Your lips moved in a soft tango, rhythm dictated by your frantic hearts. Kissing until your lips were tinted red with passion.

You finally parted and rested your foreheads against each other, and Gojo let out a chuckle, a quiet thing, teeming with joy.

"That was the first time you've called me Satoru."

You smiled. "I want to be yours too, Satoru," he pressed a tender kiss on your cheek, his lips pulled into a wide smile.

The future had never seemed more uncertain, and the balance of the jujutsu world barely hung on by a thread. But in that moment all Gojo could feel was unbridled joy.

"Thank you, my love."

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[signedeclipse]

Signed with Love - Upper Moons

What is this? - A valentines gift to my lovely fem!readers! Its valentines/love letters cards from your favourites <3

Characters - Akaza | Daki | Douma | Gyokko | Gyutaro | Hantengu | Kaigaku | Kokushibo | Muzan | Nakime

Series Parts Kamaboko Squad - HERE The Hashira - HERE

Akaza

To the girl of my dreams, Happy valentines! I'm sure you thought i'd forget sorry about last year, but I've got plans and everything. Theres a light show in the city, if you want to come I'm sure we can stop for some snacks and i'll get you the best view of them. If that sounds like a plan, i'll be by your house the moment the sun goes down. Can't wait to see you dolled up, Akaza.

Daki

Dove, Free your schedule on the 14th, I won't let plans get in the way of us spending this year together after so many times of it falling through! Oiron duties always take precedent, but I'm sure I can pull some strings to spend the night with you, the "new" girl, to do some "training". Dress for the part, I know you can lie your way in. Good luck, even if I know you won't need it, 'Warabihime'

Douma

Hello, lovely! I am over the moon knowing i'll get to spend valentines with you again! I miss you more and more every day you are away... How about this year we sneak away from the cult and I show you someplace you might really enjoy, and we can pick up some treats you like to keep at the estate! Don't leave me waiting too long. You know who ♡

Gyokko

To my precious muse, This velentines marks a decade together, and I figure its about time I let you closer than ive let any other. I know I can be more conservative in sharing my art, but this year i'd like to take you into my studio and teach you some of my craft. You know where to find me. Wear something you don't mind having ruined. Gყσƙƙσ

Gyutaro

Angel, I promised i'd always ask, so I expect you to say yes when I ask you to be my valentine again. It's too risky to go out with being on the radar, so when you come back home keep low and we'll do something simple. I can't risk getting you in trouble. Don't stray too far, GT.

Hantengu

Dearest, If possible, I would really appreciate if maybe you might consider being my valentine Whatever you'd like is yours Please H/S/K/A/Uro/Z/Ura

Kaigaku

Princess, I know you'll say yes anyways, so instead ill congradulate you for keeping me intrigued for so long. Long enough to call you my valentine. I'll be home to see you the moment the sun drops, and we can spend all night hanging out. I like you better where no one else can chew on you like eye candy, so I'll bring some snacks you like if it keeps you inside, Don't get too flattered, Yours, Inadama

Kokushibo

To the most beautiful woman I know, I would be honoured if you would decide to be my valentine once again. If you are inclined to accept my invintation, know that not a drop of the night would be wasted on anything you wouldn't like. You know you can trust me. I anticipate your responce, 黒死牟

Muzan

To the only sunshine I require; With this letter is a box of clothing. It's all custom to your fit and yours now, pick whatever you like and wait outside the gates of tokyo by sundown tonight. We'll be visitng some places I know you've wanted to see, and I'll make sure it's not on an empty stomach. Don't leave me waiting, M. Kibutsuji

Nakime

My dearest lullaby I am not one to partake in holidays, however, I cannot help myself when it comes to you. I was hoping you would be my valentine; not just today, but in life as well. There is a concert hall I used to perform at, and I would like to bring you there to hear the music I was so very fond of. It is very formal, so if you need any help getting ready you have my assistance. I miss your sweet song, Nakime Otokawa

Authors Note - This took me so long ahhhh thank you for your patience darlings <3 The tags took me longer than writing this entire thing /j

Disclaimer - All characters within have been aged up to at least 18 or older, and have been altered to reflect such change as needed.

[hannahbarberra162]

Omg your marco drabble

It’s got me smiling and kicking my feet fr. You write him so so well omg

Thank you!! I've been on a mean Marco kick lately (last 800 years)...here's a little something fun.

TW: dead dove, yandere Marco, non-con implied, really mean Marco

“She’s so smart,” marveled Thatch, reaching with tentative fingertips to stroke the bird’s soft feathery head. It tittered nervously, shifting on its feet while remaining perched on Marco’s shoulder. The jade bracelet around its ankle jostled slightly as the bird moved from side to side, jingling the chain that attached from the bracelet to the lead in Marco’s hand.

“Mm. Parakeets are smart birds, they’re able to use tools and even communicate with humans,” Marco commented as he gripped the leash in his hand tighter. “Don’t be afraid, Thatch can pet you yoi,” Marco cooed to the captive bird as she quieted under his unwavering gaze. Thatch’s fingers pat the bird’s head gently, its eyes closing with each stroke.

“So obedient too. I don’t know how you trained her so quickly, it seems like she learned as soon as she came aboard. I wonder if you could let her off the leash,” Thatch mused, touching the bird’s wing gently. The bird jerked back, hiding its wing better under its plumage. 

“That wing’s still injured,” Marco explained, petting the crow himself with long tender strokes. “I’ve been trying to heal it but the biology isn’t the same between humans and animals,” Marco lamented. “She’s a good girl, but I don’t think I can let her off her leash yoi. Who knows what kind of trouble she’d get into? Besides, I don’t want her to get lost or fly away. She needs a warm climate and regardless I think she’s attached to me,” Marco said with a light laugh. Thatch smiled as the bird ate a piece of pineapple out of Marco’s hand, gulping it down in one bite. It almost looked…sad, if a bird could express such an emotion. Marco kissed the bird on the top of her head, a light peck of affection as she chirped. 

“It was so kind of you to save her from that abusive home,” Thatch commented, still watching the bird on Marco’s shoulder as it nestled into his shoulder.

“Anyone would have done the same. My little bird was injured so heavily I just had to rescue her,” Marco explained as the bird watched him, its eyes nearly human with understanding.

“I wonder what she would say if she could talk,” Thatch mused, handing the bird another piece of pineapple from Marco’s plate.

“Probably that she loves me,” Marco said with a lazy grin, his eyes half lidded. 

Marco truly loved his little pet and spoiled it when he could. The little parrot always ate from Marco’s hand, spoiled with fresh fruit and vegetables or seeds if it was being particularly well behaved. Marco was very attached to her, keeping her with him as often as he could. When she wasn’t with him, she was kept in a large cage on the deck where Marco could monitor her from afar. If anyone had an issue with the level of connection he had to his pet, they didn’t say anything. Perhaps they attributed the connection to his own Zoan form. 

And indeed, the Phoenix paid just as much attention to the parakeet as Marco did - perhaps more. The Phoenix would preen the bird, keeping it within its reach at all times. They were often spotted flying together, the parakeet and Marco seemingly in a game of chase as the parrot flew as hard as it could only to be pursued by the Phoenix. Marco always brought the parakeet back to the ship and kept it close after a long flight, saying the parrot was tired and needed his tender care.

Bringing his parakeet below deck, Marco walked leisurely to his cabin, chatting and joking with the crew he met along the way. He took the pirate-parrot jokes in stride, gently stroking the bird’s feathers when it was mentioned in conversation. Finally, reaching his cabin, he shut the door behind him and locked the lead to the leash to the parrot’s perch. It settled in, watching Marco with its eyes as if to beseech him to do something.

“You’ve been such a good little bird today yoi. Are you finally sorry for trying to escape again?” Marco cooed, stroking the parrot with one finger. The parakeet chirped once, moving away from Marco’s hand as he reached for it.

“Mm. I think this is the longest I’ve kept you like this. If you behaved better I wouldn’t have to keep extending the time. Wouldn’t want to end up like Big News Morgan would you? I’d be unable to admire you fully,” Marco mused, reaching for the bracelet on the bird’s foot. Removing the jade, you landed naked on hands and knees in front of Marco, sucking in breath as fast as you could. You didn’t say anything, human speech just beyond your thought process after being kept in your Zoan form for such an extended time. Sea-stone removed a devil fruit user’s ability, but Marco had discovered that sea-jade could keep Zoan users in their animal forms, leaving them unable to change back. He’d kept the discovery - and you - to himself.

“It’s nice to see you like this,” Marco said, lifting your head up to meet his gaze. You were naked and shivering, your arm at an odd angle to your body. Marco held your arm tightly in his hand, the healing flames of the Phoenix fixing your broken bones in seconds as you whimpered in his hold. 

“Isn’t that better? Be a good girl and your arm can stay that way. I don’t like clipping your wings but you leave me no choice.” Marco said with a sigh, as if he was being forced into this position. Pulling you over towards his chair by your now healed arm, Marco sat down heavily and palmed his hard cock through his pants. You were pushed onto your knees, your nipples taut in the cold cabin as Marco spread his legs in front of you.

“Show me how sorry you are,” he stated, unbuckling his belt as your eyes filled with tears.

“And when you’re done, you’ll sing your sweetest song yet.”

[tenthousandyearsx]

Thanks so much for tagging me @wolfpants, I loved reading yours! I've pretty much only published lots of PWPs so far, and while I loved writing every single fic I've posted, self-recs always feel a bit weird. x_x Anyway, I'll give it a go!

Rules: Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💙

​‎ㅤ

Passably Wrecked (Drarry, E, 4.6k)

“Potter,” Malfoy says, sitting down next to him at breakfast. “I think we should have sex.”

Starting with this one because it's fairly recent and I don't think I've shared it here! Malfoy expresses scepticism about Harry's sexual prowess. Harry is having none of it.

​‎‎ㅤ

Keep your hands on me (Drarry, E, 21k)

Malfoy binds himself with a sex curse. Harry cannot get enough (but would much prefer to keep Malfoy for himself).

Still the filthiest thing I've written imo – it's 21k of smut and I didn't self-censor at all, but I ~think~ I consider it porn with character development rather than pwp. I wrote the whole thing in a daze, which is my favourite way to write when the muses allow – and to my absolute astonishment (I was sure it was going to get hate), it tends to get my favourite comments too. ​‎‎ㅤ

Just a trial run (Drarry, E, 9k)

Potter in his living room was a novelty and Draco could not take his eyes off him. He fixed both of them a drink, handed Potter his Firewhisky, then sat on the sofa. “From Saviour to Auror to whore,” he said. Potter choked on his drink. “Tell me, Potter, how does that happen?” In which Harry wants to get into sex work and Draco would prefer to keep him for himself.

I'm very fond of this fic and this Draco. I wrote it while I was working on KYHOM because I wanted to try a somewhat similar premise with the opposite dynamic, with top Draco and a more submissive Harry. It has both a paid sex kink and alcohol kink, which I have no idea where they came from, and while I've been postponing doing some proper edits on the second chapter, I absolutely loved writing it. ​‎‎ㅤ

Trouble with your tie, Potter? (Drarry, E, 6.7k)

The last thing Harry expects when Slughorn partners him up with Zabini is Malfoy shooting them furious looks throughout the whole class and then unceremoniously snogging Harry in the corridor.

My Erised fic from last year! I was actually working on something else entirely, a much longer fic that fizzled and died on me halfway through. I have a self-imposed rule that the energy of a story has to be right and has to be such that the story drives itself – and, specifically for fic, that if I don't enjoy writing it, there's no point in doing it. So when writing a fic becomes a slog, I just go back and delete mercilessly. It still didn't help in this case though x_x, so I started writing "Trouble with your tie" instead, which was an absolute joy to work on and I'm so happy I did. There are some parts I still think I'll probably rewrite at some point, but I really loved writing H and D's dynamic here. Even though I don't agonise over my prose when I write fic, I am super careful about the energy I'm putting out and especially the feeling I'm leaving the reader with at the end, so I'm really happy they hit the mark in this case. ​‎‎ㅤ

Not very gallant (initial Dronarry but endgame Dron, E, 3.3k)

“He likes it when I hurt him,” Harry tells Ron with a smirk. “And then you come in and soothe him.”

I wanted to include a non-drarry fic so here's a very recent one! I think I probably could have done more with it, but I loved writing Ron in this. Please mind the tags!!! Everything is super undernegotiated!!! It's endgame Dron, but Harry is perfectly fine with it. I should also probably mention that Harry is a bit of an asshole in this fic compared to the way I usually write him, but because I usually write Drarry and wanted this to be endgame Dron, I had to find a way for the dynamic to be in character, hot, and sexually charged, but not in a way that made me ship drarry too much. I'm also usually not good with threesomes or poly relationships because I always feel like someone is left out x_x, so I tried to put my own spin on it. This is what worked for me and I loved writing it! Do not expect considerate behaviour for like... most of it though.

Tagging @crazybutgood , @magpiefngrl , @orange-peony , @lumosatnight and anyone who'd like to join!

[formulas-bitch]

Come Back Home - Charles leclerc X leclercsibling/reader

4.9k words

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the concrete floor of the garage. It was always like this, Charles thought, when his older sister, Emily, returned home from her latest tour in the army. There was a certain air of anticipation, of excitement, that seemed to fill the room, as if the very walls themselves were vibrating with the energy of her presence. Even the old, rusty tools hanging on the walls appeared to glisten under her watchful gaze, as if they too were proud to be a part of her story.

Charles could feel his heart race with a mixture of nerves and joy as he watched Emily walk towards him. Her uniform was spotless, her posture straight and tall, her hair tied back in a tight bun that emphasized her sharp features. Her eyes, a deep shade of blue that he had inherited, sparkled with an unmistakable twinkle of pride. She held out her hand to him, and without a second thought, Charles took it, feeling the warmth and strength of her grip.

"You look great, Emily!" he exclaimed, unable to hide his grin. "I can't believe you're finally home!"

Emily smiled warmly at her little brother. "I missed you too, Charles. I've been thinking about that race of yours. You know, if you want, I could give you a few pointers. I mean, I might be a bit out of practice, but I've got some experience under my belt."

Charles' eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" he asked, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "That would be amazing! I've been practicing a lot, but it's always better when someone who's been there can help you."

Emily nodded, her expression softening. "Of course, little brother. I remember when you were just a kid, always tagging along with me to the track. I never imagined you'd grow up to be such a talented driver." She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "We'll make a great team, you and me."

As they walked out of the garage and into the warm evening air, Emily glanced over at the dusty old trophy case by the side of the house. There, amidst the faded ribbons and tarnished medals, were a few shining reminders of her own racing days. She'd never won anything quite as impressive as the prize Charles was vying for, but she knew that didn't matter. Her pride in her little brother's accomplishments far outweighed any lingering feelings of envy or regret.

They made their way to the track, the familiar smell of hot rubber and burning fuel filling their noses. Emily's eyes scanned the course, analyzing the turns and the jumps, the potential hazards and the ideal lines. She'd spent so much time here, honing her skills, pushing herself to the limit. Now, standing here beside her brother, she realized that it had all been worth it.

"So," Emily said, as they walked along the fence, "tell me about your competition. Anyone I should keep an eye out for?"

Charles nodded, his expression a mix of determination and nerves. "Well, there's this one kid, Max, who's been winning everything lately. He's really good, but I think I can beat him. I've been practicing really hard, and I've got you to help me now." He glanced sideways at Emily, a hopeful smile playing on his lips.

Emily placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you, Charles," she said, her voice steady and calm. "I know you can do this. And even if you don't win, remember that it's about having fun and challenging yourself. That's what matters most." She gave him a wink, trying to ease some of the pressure he was feeling.

As they continued to walk along the fence, they came across a familiar-looking car, its paintjob faded and its tires worn thin. Emily recognized it immediately as Max's car, the one that had given her brother so much trouble during practice. "Hmm," she mused, "it looks like your competition could use a little help too. Maybe I could take a look at his car before the race and see if there's anything we can do to give you an edge."

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked, unable to hide his excitement. "That would be amazing! I mean, I don't want to take advantage or anything…"

Emily smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about it, Charles. It's not about taking advantage. We're here to help each other out, remember? Besides, if we can help Max improve his car, it'll only make the race that much more interesting." She glanced over at the car, her eyes assessing its condition. "Let's take a look at it, shall we?"

Together, they approached Max's car, and Emily began to inspect it carefully. She checked the tire pressure, the alignment, and even took a look under the hood. After a few minutes of examination, she pulled out a rag and began to wipe away some of the grime from the engine. "This car has a lot of potential," she said to Charles, "but it's not being used to its fullest. If I were you, I'd focus on these few areas." She pointed to a worn-out suspension and a faulty spark plug. "With some TLC and a few simple adjustments, this car could be unstoppable."

Charles nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "Thanks, Emily. You don't know what this means to me." He paused, his expression growing more serious. "Listen, I've been thinking… I know you're my big sister and all, but what if we were to team up? I mean, not just for this race, but for future ones too? We could be unbeatable together."

Emily considered his words carefully. She had always been close to her little brother, but the idea of actually racing alongside him had never crossed her mind. It was an intriguing prospect, but she wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do. "It's a nice idea, Charles," she said finally, "but you need to remember that we're still competing against each other today. I can't help you win the race if it means losing it myself. and also i never know when i will be called back to base and go on tour again."

Charles nodded, understanding her dilemma. "I get it," he said, his voice softening. "But maybe…maybe we could just see how today goes, and then talk about it afterwards? You know, if we both do well and have fun, who knows what could happen?" He flashed her a hopeful smile.

Emily smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "Okay," she agreed, surprised by how much she wanted to make this work. "We'll see how it goes. And even if we don't end up teaming up, I promise I'll always be your biggest fan, no matter what."

As they continued to walk around the car, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with her brother. They had always been close, but this newfound understanding and trust was something special. She could tell that Charles felt the same way, his movements more confident and his posture more erect.

The race finally began, and both Emily and Charles took their places at the starting line. Their engines revved in unison, and the air was filled with the smell of burning rubber and hot metal. As the flag dropped, they roared forward, their tires squealing against the pavement.

Emily and Charles stayed close together, watching each other's every move. They weaved in and out of traffic, avoiding potholes and other obstacles with ease. They could feel the tension between them, a mixture of determination and sibling rivalry. But they also felt a newfound respect for each other, a mutual understanding that they were in this together.

As they raced past the halfway mark, Emily began to pull ahead slightly. She glanced back at Charles, hoping he was doing alright, but didn't want to lose focus on the track. Suddenly, she heard a loud pop from his engine, and saw him slowing down. "Charles!" she shouted over the radio. "What's wrong?"

Charles gritted his teeth as he fought to keep the car under control. "I think I blew a tire," he replied, his voice strained. "I'm going to pull over and see if I can fix it."

Emily felt a pang of guilt as she watched her brother struggle. She knew how much this race meant to him, and she didn't want to be the reason he lost. She considered stopping as well, but she didn't want to give up her lead. Instead, she radioed back, "Don't worry about it, Charles. Just focus on getting the car fixed. I'll keep an eye on things until you're back."

As she continued to race, Emily couldn't help but keep glancing back over her shoulder. Each time she looked, she could see Charles frantically working on his car, trying to get it back up and running. The delay gave her a slight lead, but she knew it wouldn't last forever. She had to keep pushing if she wanted to win this race.

The track twisted and turned, winding its way through the lush greenery of the countryside. Emily expertly navigated the turns, her tires squealing against the pavement as she forced them to break traction. She could feel the engine beneath her, purring contentedly despite the recent setback. She knew that if she could just make it to the finish line, she had a good chance of winning.

In the distance, she could see Charles' car slowly making its way back onto the track. His progress was steady, but it was clear that he was struggling to keep up with her pace. Still, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride watching him battle his way back into the race.

The finish line came into view, and Emily redoubled her efforts, pushing her car to its limits. She knew that she had to maintain her lead if she wanted to win. The stands were packed with spectators, their cheers echoing across the track as they urged her on. She could feel the heat of the sun beating down on her helmet, but she refused to let it distract her.

Behind her, Charles was gaining ground steadily, his car running more smoothly now that he had fixed the tire. The determination in his eyes was unmistakable as he closed in on her, inching closer with each passing second. Emily could feel her heart racing, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.

As they neared the finish line, the cheers from the crowd grew louder, their voices a deafening roar that seemed to envelop the entire world. Emily glanced over at Charles, her heart in her throat as she wondered if she would manage to hold on. With a final burst of speed, she crossed the finish line, her tires squealing in protest as she slid sideways. She looked up to see Charles just inches behind her, his face contorted in a grimace of determination.

The race officials waved their checkered flags, signaling the end of the race. Emily slowly pulled her car to a stop, her heart still racing, her muscles aching from the effort. She climbed out of the car, her helmet in her hands, and took a deep breath. She glanced around, searching for her brother, and saw him emerge from his car a few feet away. His face was flushed with exertion and emotion, and there was a mixture of pride and disappointment in his eyes.

They met each other halfway, clasping hands in a gesture of camaraderie and understanding. "I'm sorry, Charles," Emily said, her voice hoarse from shouting over the engine. "I didn't mean to cause you to blow your tire."

Charles smiled, his expression softening. "It's alright, sis. You didn't do it on purpose. Besides, you helped me realize that I can still keep up with you." He glanced at the track, a distant look in his eyes. "I'm just sorry I couldn't pull ahead this time."

The two of them stood there for a moment, lost in their thoughts. The sound of the crowd slowly faded away, replaced by the gentle rustle of the leaves in the trees and the occasional hushed voice. Emily reached up and adjusted her helmet, feeling the sweat beading on her forehead. She knew that despite their sibling rivalry, she and Charles were a team. They always had been. all of a sudden Emily hears her phone ringing and sees it is her captain from the army calling.

"Sorry about that, Charles. I'd better take this. It's probably about my orders or something." Emily says, already walking a few steps away from her brother. She answers the call, pressing the phone against her ear. "Hello, Captain. What's up?"

There's a brief pause on the other end of the line before the captain replies, his voice grave. "I'm afraid I have some news, Emily. Your unit has received orders for a deployment. You're to report to base immediately for processing." Emily feels a chill run down her spine. "But, I thought… I mean, I was supposed to be here for the rest of the season. What about my brother's race?"

The captain hesitates for a moment. "I'm sorry, Emily, but these orders are top priority. You need to put your training first. We'll work something out with your brother's race, but for now, you need to focus on getting to base." He gives her the details of where to go and when, and then hangs up the phone.

Emily feels a mixture of shock, fear, and guilt wash over her. She glances over at Charles, who is watching her with a concerned expression. "I've got to go, Charles," she says, her voice barely audible. "The army's sending me into deployment." She takes a deep breath and tries to steady her racing heart.

Charles's face falls, and he steps forward to wrap an arm around her shoulders. "It's alright, Em. We'll get through this together. You're not going alone." He pauses, looking at her seriously. "I'll race for both of us now. I promise."

Emily looks up at him, tears welling in her eyes. She knows he's right; they've always been there for each other. "Thank you, Charles. I love you." She returns his hug, feeling the familiar weight of his arm across her shoulders.

Together, they walk back to their pit area, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty space. Emily can't help but feel a sense of loss, not just for herself, but for Charles as well. She knows that this will change everything for them.

As they approach their cars, they see their mom and siblings waiting for them, concern etched on their faces. Emily's older brother puts his arm around their mother's shoulders, offering what little comfort he can. Charles's mother reaches out to him, her hand trembling as she wipes away a tear.

The two of them get into their cars, Charles taking the lead as they pull out of the parking lot. Emily looks over at him, noticing the determination in his eyes as he focuses on the road ahead. She can tell that he's not just racing for himself anymore; he's racing for her too.

Their mother and siblings follow close behind, their mother's tears silent but steady as she watches her two children drive away. Emily's brother drives a bit more slowly, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror to check on his sister.

The race track stretches out before them, the sun dipping lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the track. Charles takes a deep breath and focuses on the task at hand. He shifts gears, pressing his foot harder against the accelerator as he speeds up, his car whipping around the turns with precision. Emily watches him from the passenger seat, a mixture of awe and pride filling her heart.

In the car behind them, their siblings talk quietly among themselves, trying to distract their mother from the tension of the moment. They know that this race is more than just a race for Charles; it's a way for him to honor his sister's sacrifice and to show the world what they can achieve together.

Their mother, though quiet, is fiercely proud of both of her children. She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to maintain her composure. She remembers the day Emily left for basic training, how proud she was to see her daughter stand tall and strong. And now, she watches Charles race with the same mix of awe and pride.

and now she has to watch her only daughter be shipped out again and prays she make to back home safe.

Emily leans forward in her seat, her knuckles white as she grips the dashboard. She can feel the tension in her body, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She's not the one driving, but she feels like she is. Every move Charles makes, every decision he makes behind the wheel, feels personal to her. She can't help but wonder if this is how he feels when he's on the track with her.

Their mother glances up at the sky, watching the shadows grow longer. She wonders if Emily is thinking of her at this moment, if she can see the sky the same way. Perhaps they're both looking up at the same stars, hoping that one day they'll be able to watch Charles race together again.

Charles speeds past the finish line, his car screeching to a halt as he crosses it. He jumps out of the car, his heart racing and his lungs burning. His eyes dart around, searching for his family in the stands. their brothers are already there, clapping and cheering, their mother close behind. They spot Charles and their faces light up, relief and pride washing over them.

Emily watches from the pit area, her heart in her throat. She knows Charles did his best, and that's all she could have ever asked for. As he waves to them, she waves back, feeling a sense of accomplishment and love wash over her. Their mother stands up, wiping away a tear, and gestures for them to join her. They hurry over, their siblings forming a protective circle around them.

Their mother takes Emily's hand in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "I'm so proud of both of you," she says, her voice cracking. "You did her proud, Charles. And you, Emily, you've been his strength when he needed it most. You've both shown such courage and resilience."

Charles squeezes his sister's shoulder, feeling the weight of their mother's words. "Thanks, Mom. And Em, you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you've done. You've been my rock, my inspiration. I couldn't have done it without you."

emily wipes her eyes as she pulls her mother and brothers in a hug.

" now lets get out of here and grab some dinner before i have to report back to base"

Their mother smiles through her tears, nodding in agreement. "Of course. We'll celebrate tonight, just like you wanted." She turns to her oldest son. "Arthur , why don't you and Emily go with Charles to pick up some food? We'll head straight home and get everything ready?."

Arthur nods, stepping forward. "Sounds good, Mom. We'll be back in a jiffy." He turns to Emily, offering her his arm. "Shall we?" They begin to walk towards Charles' car, a light breeze rustling through the trees behind them.

Charles pulls up to a local food truck park, parking his car between two brightly colored vehicles. The aroma of various cuisines fills the air, making their stomachs rumble in anticipation. "So, Em, what do you feel like getting?" he asks, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

Emily shrugs, her mind already wandering to the dinner table at home with their family. "I'm not really sure. Whatever sounds good to you, I guess."

Charles nods, glancing at the menu board above the truck. "Hmm, I'm in the mood for some Mexican tonight. How does that sound? Chicken tacos, maybe some quesadillas?"

Emily smiles, feeling her stomach growl in agreement. "That sounds delicious. I'm sure Mom would love some help with the dinner too."

They step up to the window, watching as the friendly food truck owner takes their order. As they wait for the food, they lean against the car, enjoying the warm evening air. "Hey, Charles, I wanted to thank you again for letting me come with you today. I know it's not easy for you, being away from everything and everyone back home."

Charles shrugs, trying to downplay his emotions. "Hey, it's fine. I'm glad you're here. I'd rather have you by my side than anyone else. Besides, it helps me remember what I'm fighting for." He pauses, looking at Emily seriously.

Their food arrives, they grab it and start driving home.

"I'm sure you'll make a great soldier when you're back in the field," Enzo says, taking a bite of his quesadilla. "I mean, you're already so strong and brave. And I know Dad is so proud of you and remember he is always watching you em"

Emily feels a lump in her throat as she listens to Enzo. She knows he's right; their father is always watching over them, and she wants to make him proud. She takes a bite of her taco, savoring the flavors and the warmth it brings to her insides. As they continue to eat, she can't help but feel a sense of pride and love for her family. They've been through so much together, and she knows they'll always be there for each other.

as soon as they finish their dinner Emily stands up from the table

and hugs her mother and brothers tightly before leaving to go back to base. she kisses her mother on the cheek and tells her that she loves her. she walks with Charles to his car and they drive off in silence. as they pull up to the gate, Charles turns to Emily and says, "you know, em, you're not just my sister. you're my best friend. and i want you to know that I'm always here for you, no matter what. if you ever need someone to talk to, or just want to hang out, you know where to find me." Emily smiles at him through her tears and says, "thank you, Charles. i feel the same way about you. and I'm always here for you, too. little brother. take care of everyone for me ok, and make sure to take care of your self too alright?"

He nods, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. They get out of the car and hug tightly once more before Charles heads back to his car. Emily watches him go, wiping away the tears that fall silently down her cheeks. Even though they're apart now, she knows that they'll always be connected.

As she walks towards the base, she can't help but feel a sense of determination growing inside her. She's going to make it through this, for her family, for Charles, and for their father who is always watching over them. She takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and marches forward with renewed purpose.

Emily arrives at her barracks, dropping her duffel bag onto her bunk with a sigh. The familiar sounds of soldiers going about their duties fill the air, but she hardly notices them as she lies down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. .

The days blur together in a haze of training exercises and long nights. Emily throws herself into her work, determined to prove herself as a soldier and make her father proud. But even as she pushes herself to the limit, she can't shake the feeling that she's missing something important. Something that was once a constant presence in her life.

She tries to stay in touch with Charles as much as possible, sending him letters and care packages whenever she can. In return, he sends her stories about their mother and brothers back home, about their father's garden and the new puppy they've adopted. Their conversations are brief but filled with love and support.

soon Emily is off to Iraq to start her tour.

The days in Iraq are long and brutal. The heat is relentless, and the dust seems to get into everything. Emily spends most of her time patrolling the streets, keeping an eye out for danger. At night, she huddles in her tent, trying to sleep amidst the constant hum of generators and the occasional gunfire.

She finds solace in the letters from Charles and her family back home. Their words are a lifeline, reminding her of the love and support that she has waiting for her when this is all over. In one particularly heartfelt letter, Charles tells her about a time when they were kids and they would go fishing with their father. They would spend hours by the riverbank, laughing and telling stories, and their father would always cook up their catch for dinner. Reading this, Emily feels a pang of longing for those simpler times.

As the weeks turn into months, Emily begins to see the impact of her service on those around her. She meets soldiers who have been through multiple tours, their eyes haunted by the memories of what they've seen and done. She tries to be strong for them, to be the steady presence that they can rely on, but sometimes she feels so young and inexperienced. She wishes she could talk to her father about it, but she knows he's not here anymore.

One day, as she's sitting in the makeshift chapel, writing a letter to Charles, she notices a familiar face in the corner. It's Sergeant Johnson, the veteran who has been giving her extra training. Something in his eyes tells her that he understands what she's going through, and without a word, he comes over and sits beside her. They sit in silence for a while, listening to the chaplain's voice as he reads from a worn book. Finally, Emily musters the courage to speak.

"Sergeant Johnson," she begins, "I don't know why you're even talking to me. I'm just a rookie, and I don't know half of what you've been through." He looks at her kindly, his eyes creased at the corners from a lifetime of smiling and frowning.

"Ah, Emily, you're not a rookie. You've been here, through this, just as much as anyone else. You're just new to it. And that's the important thing. You're here now, you're doing your job, and you're making a difference. You don't need to have been through ten tours to know that." He pauses, looking out the window at the dusty, barren landscape beyond. "Look, Emily, I've seen a lot of people come and go through here. Some of them…they just couldn't handle it. They couldn't find their footing. But you're different. You're strong. You've got a good head on your shoulders. and you have lead many tour to successes "

" So and with that me and the board have seen all the hard work and dedication you have put after each and every tour that we have decided to announce you as first lieutenant"

"Wait, what?!" Emily exclaims, her eyes widening in surprise. "But I'm not even halfway through my tour!"

Sergeant Johnson chuckles. "Ah, you're a quick learner, that's for sure. But you've earned it, Emily. You've earned it ten times over. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side as my second-in-command." He puts a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let's go tell the others. They're going to be just as pleased as I am."

As they walk back to their base, Emily feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her. Excitement, of course, but also a deep sense of responsibility. She knows that she still has a long way to go, and that there are countless challenges yet to face. But with Sergeant Johnson's guidance and the support of her new family here in the army, she knows that she can make it through.

The news of her promotion spreads like wildfire through the base, and the looks of surprise and admiration on her fellow soldiers' faces are enough to make her heart swell with pride. She spends the rest of the day sharing stories and laughter with them, feeling more a part of this unit than she ever thought possible.

Emily is quick to write a letter to her family telling them of her promotion and how she is doing.

As the days turn into weeks, Emily finds herself growing more comfortable in her new role as first lieutenant. She spends countless hours planning missions and training exercises, pouring her heart and soul into making sure that her soldiers are prepared for anything they might face. Her father's words echo in her mind: "A good leader isn't born, Emily. They're made." And so, she strives to be the best leader she can be, learning from her mistakes and always seeking the counsel of Sergeant Johnson when she needs it.

The landscape around them slowly begins to change as the seasons pass. The once barren earth turns green with life, and the skies grow heavy with the promise of rain. Even in the midst of war, there is beauty to be found, and Emily takes solace in the small moments of peace that these changes bring. She finds herself thinking more and more about her family back home, and the day when she'll finally be able to return to them.

anyone a part two maybe????

[bobbydagen24]

Trolls overall has a Big problem with the idea of Holding people accountable for their actions.

here's a numbered list of examples of what I'm talking about.

Cloud Guy in the Tv shows not only because he Harasses Branch most of the time with no consequences but also because Poppy goes out of her way to defend him even when his actions cause trouble for many other people.

like when he flooded the village just out of spite because Branch wouldn't do what he wanted anymore and not to mention how even when she found out that he also Harassed other people from each of the Troll Tribes she still took his side and got mad at them when they stood up for themselves and "" upset Cloud Guy "".

which even if it hadn't been revealed that it was all an act by him just to mess with them it would still make Poppy look bad since she Refused to do anything about his Blatant Bullying yet got mad at his victims when they stood up for themselves.

and not to mention made excuses for why his behaviour wasn't so bad making out like he only Harassed them because he was trying to help them which is just all kinds of wrong.

2. a lesser example but still a bad example imo is in the Trollstopia episode where Dante uses Branch as his muse and he stalks him breaks into his home and disrupts his daily Jobs which he does.

and when he goes to Poppy for help she makes out like Dante's behaviour is reasonable and tells Branch to suck it up.

and after Branch does something to get Dante to back off Poppy then gets mad at him when Dante isn't able to come up with any music ideas like that's somehow Branch's problem?

Dante needed help but Rather than ask for it he just went ahead and took it by invading someone's privacy.

and breaching their trust and then Poppy made out like Branch was wrong for setting down Boundaries with him which is just iffy to be honest feels like this episode was written by Joe Goldberg or something lol.

3. and there's Creek as I've said in the past I love him lol but I do agree that his Return in TBGO could have been done better where he could have had a little arc of slowly earning back people's trust maybe over the span of a few episodes.

4. some people like to go on about the Bergens being forgiven too easily and I agree to an extent but given how Gristle Jr couldn't exactly punish the majority of the population I don't think they really had much choice in this matter.

I feel the only problem is them acting all chummy with the rest of the Bergens like letting them off for killing their species is one thing but acting like friends with them is a whole other like staying friends with Bridget and Gristle is fine given their history and the fact that they were too young to have eaten any Trolls prior to the escape.

but acting friendly with the rest of them feels a tad insensitive like in the opening of TBT we see Branch and Poppy acting all chummy with Random Bergens and Branch even High fives a couple of them and I was just thinking to myself

"" dude they probably ate someone's loved ones in the past how would you feel if you saw other Trolls giving Chef a friendly High five? ""

5. anyway moving on there's Barb who enslaved countless people destroyed their homes and tried to wipe out all other kinds of music and she was let off in the end.

its not even like she had a last minute change of heart she literally just got beaten and that's the only reason why her plan didn't succeed and afterwards she was just instantly forgiven.

6. Bro zone I've already talked about them in Depth in the past but yeah unreliable selfish insensitive and at worst cruel not to mention they never truly change their ways.

they keep on doing the same crappy behaviour and they don't show that much remorse for their past actions yet they still get forgiven in the end Despite everything.

because yaaaay family is amazing even if they Treat you like shit over and over again.

the films message feels like it was written by a toxic parent to please other toxic parents to be honest which judging by how this film won over general audiences I'd say it worked like a Treat lol.

so yeah Despite my love for it Trolls overall as a franchise has a serous problem with actually Holding people accountable for their crappy actions and Behaviours I feel the only exception is Veneer as even tho his turn at the end felt Rushed and out of nowhere imo.

I was pleasantly surprised that the movie didn't just let him off the Hook and he still got arrested and accepted the punishment for his crimes in the end.

I feel the same thing should have happened with Barb given everything she did.

anyway if you've made it to the end of my post thank you you have the patience of a saint lol anyway what do you think about this aspect of the franchise?

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

What do you think would happen if one of y/n’s friends/classmate spots her and Jonathan Crane together in public? How would the couple react? P.S Office bells are few fanfics that are helping survive college 😚

Office Hours/Bells Imagine/Headcanon

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 2182

Warnings: Obsessive behaviour, Professor x Student, subtle manipulation

Summary: !!Request!! What happens when Y/n's friend catches Jonathan and Y/n on campus?

A/N: Hahaha, Thank you for the request Anon. My fic is helping you survive college?! I am absolutely honoured 🫶💚 It has been a lONG time since I've made ANY update (last update back in Feb, holy shit) for Office Hours/Bells but finally!!! we are here :) I've just had so many requests for other fics and all that I had to get through and a lot of Uni shit to do as well, my poor babe been sidelined :( But this was one of the requests to I thought it would be perfect to update this fic with this and then a full chapter next :) (might take a while, a lot of uni shit sTILL, but that will be the next thing I update (probably)) I have a LOT planned for this fic so stay tuned~ 💚

(Office Hours/Bells Masterlist)

-

Jonathan and Y/n had made a deliberate effort to keep their relationship under wraps, avoiding public outings and opting for date nights at home instead. They preferred the seclusion of their own company, away from prying eyes and potential trouble. Yet, despite their careful planning, even the most vigilant can slip up.

As the night cast long shadows across the deserted campus, Jonathan and Y/n walked side by side, their laughter echoing through the empty halls. Their banter was lighthearted, a welcome reprieve from the academic rigor of the day.

"It shouldn’t be that hard to pick what you want for dinner," Jonathan teased, his lips curved into a playful smirk.

Y/n scoffed, feigning offense. "If it’s so easy, you wouldn’t be asking me in the first place!" she retorted, nudging him with her elbow.

Jonathan chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Perhaps I’m trying o be a gentleman," he mused, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "You’re such a dick," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Their easygoing exchange was interrupted when Y/n suddenly halted in her tracks, a realization dawning on her. "Oh, shit! I completely forgot about my tutorial in ten minutes," she exclaimed, a hint of panic in her voice.

Jonathan checked his watch, furrowing his brows in concern. "This late?" he questioned.

Y/n nodded, her lips forming a small frown. "Yeah, my tutor had to reschedule for this week," she explained, her mind already racing with thoughts of rushing to her session.

"I can head back to my office and wait for you, if you'd like," he suggested, his gaze soft as he looked at her.

Y/n's heart swelled at his considerate gesture. "Would you really wait an hour for me?" she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"For you, I'd wait forever," Jonathan replied, his smile playful but his words sincere.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She enveloped him in a grateful embrace. "Thank you," she murmured, before rushing off to her tutorial.

“Y/n!” a voiced called from behind her, but it wasn’t Jonathan.

As Y/n turned around, she spotted Ebony, one of her tutorial mates, hurrying to catch up with her. A wave of dreed washed over her as she wondered if Ebony had witnessed the interaction between her and Jonathan.

Ebony's arrival prompted Jonathan to turn and continue his path back to his office, leaving Y/n to face her friend alone.

"Y/n, wait up!" Ebony called out.

Y/n forced a smile, trying to maintain her composure despite the sudden surge of nerves. "Forgot about the tutorial too?" Ebony asked, falling into step beside her.

"Yeah, I did," Y/n replied, her tone casual as she attempted to play off the encounter with Jonathan.

Ebony's next question was inevitable, yet still caught Y/n off guard, causing her heart to race even faster. "What was that with Professor Crane just before?" Ebony asked, her curiosity evident in her tone.

Y/n's mind raced as she scrambled to come up with a plausible explanation. "U-uh, what do you mean?" she stammered, buying herself some time.

"I saw you two talking, and you hugged him. I didn't think that man was capable of hugs," Ebony remarked with a chuckle, oblivious to Y/n's inner turmoil.

Relief flooded through Y/n as she realized Ebony hadn't seemed to suspect anything unusual. However, she knew she couldn't let her guard down just yet.

"Oh, that," Y/n began, her mind racing to concoct a convincing story. "Well, he's been a huge help for me during office hours and stuff, and considering he's a psychologist, I thought I could confide in him about some personal things. He was really supportive and understanding, so I just... hugged him," she explained, her words tumbling out in a jumble.

Y/n cringed inwardly at her own explanation adn the fact that she rambled, realizing how flimsy it sounded. She hoped Ebony would buy it, but a nagging feeling of unease lingered in the back of her mind.

“Aww, well I’m glad he helped you, that’s cool,” Ebony said. “I would be so scared to talk to him, he’s just so intimidating in lectures and things, you know?” she said.

Y/n breathed an audible sigh of relief, grateful that Ebony didn't seem to suspect anything out of the ordinary. However, she knew she couldn't afford to let her guard down. She made a mental note to be more cautious in the future.

As they continued walking together, Y/n and Ebony made their way to their tutorial, their conversation shifting to lighter topics. Despite the weight lifted off her shoulders, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease entirely. 

-

The tutorial came to an end, and as Y/n prepared to leave, she quickly texted Jonathan, arranging to meet him down the road in his car. She couldn't risk being seen with him by anyone else. With a casual wave to people she sat with, she made her way out, only to be interrupted by Ebony.

"Ugh, this assignment is going to be the death of me," Ebony huffed as she fell into step beside Y/n.

Y/n internally cursed. "Tell me about it," she replied with a forced laugh, trying to act nonchalant.

As they exited the building together, Y/n felt a growing sense of unease. Ebony was still walking by her side, and Y/n knew she needed to steer the conversation away from any potential topics related to Jonathan.

"Are you heading to the dorms?" Ebony inquired.

Y/n quickly fabricated a response. "Actually, I'm meeting up with someone downtown," she lied smoothly.

Ebony's smile widened. "Oh, how are you getting there?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment before replying, "Um... by bus."

"Great, I can walk you to the bus stop!" Ebony offered eagerly.

Y/n appreciated Ebony's kindness, but she knew she couldn't risk it. "Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience you," she protested.

"Nonsense, I live in the halls near the main bus terminal anyway," Ebony reassured her with a smile.

"Cool," Y/n replied awkwardly as they began to walk down the street.

As they strolled along, Y/n immediately spotted Jonathan's car, with him leaning casually against it. She was just about to discreetly message Jonathan to leave when Ebony spoke up.

"Is that Professor Crane?" Ebony asked, squinting as she tried to get a better look at the figure by the car.

"Yeah, looks like it," Y/n confirmed, trying to keep her tone casual.

"Haha, you should ask him for a ride," Ebony suggested with a playful grin.

Y/n forced a laugh, but her heart sank. "Oh, yeah, aye," she replied, her mind racing with how to handle the situation.

Meanwhile, Jonathan glanced up from his car when he heard the laughter, his expression confused as he spotted Y/n walking with someone else. Y/n shot Jonathan a glance and subtly nodded her head to the side, signaling for him to leave. Catching Y/n's signal, he quickly got back into his car and drove off. Fortunately, Ebony seemed oblivious to the exchange, only noticing Jonathan's car pulling away.

"Aww, you missed out on your ride," Ebony teased, unaware of the truth behind the situation.

-

 Y/n turned to Ebony with a grateful smile, the streetlights casting a soft glow on their faces. "Thanks for walking with me, Ebony. You really didn't have to."

Ebony grinned, her expression illuminated by the ambient light. "Are you kidding me, girl?! Letting you walk alone in Gotham at this hour? It would have been a crime to leave you alone."

Y/n chuckled, appreciating her friend's concern, even though it was all based on a fabricated story. After the ordeal with Jonathan, many of her friends distanced themselves from her, leaving her feeling isolated at university. With only Jonathan by her side, the loneliness weighed heavily on her when she wasn’t at home with him. That's why Ebony's genuine concern and companionship felt like a breath of fresh air amidst the suffocating atmosphere of abandonment. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the cool night breeze gently rustling her hair.

"Will you be okay walking back to your halls?" Y/n asked, genuinely concerned.

"Don't worry about me, I'm just around the corner," Ebony reassured her with a warm smile, her eyes reflecting the kindness that radiated from her.

"I'll see you later then," Y/n waved as Ebony turned to head back to her halls. Y/n watched her friend's retreating figure until she disappeared around the corner.

Pulling out her phone, Y/n dialed Jonathan's number, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face in the darkness. He picked up immediately, his voice a comforting presence in the quiet night.

"Where are you?" Jonathan's voice came through the line, filled with concern.

"Down at the bus terminals," Y/n replied, her breath forming wisps in the chilly air.

"I'll come to get you," Jonathan said without hesitation, his tone reassuring and protective.

"Okay," Y/n said. With a final glance at the deserted street, she ended the call and waited for Jonathan to arrive, the anticipation tingling in her veins.

It didn’t take long for Jonathan's car pulled up outside the bus terminal. Y/n spotted his vehicle across the street and hurried over, slipping into the passenger seat. With a swift maneuver, Jonathan merged into traffic, swiftly navigating the bustling streets of Gotham.

"So..." Jonathan began.

"You don't have to worry about her, Ebony's a good girl. She probably didn't even think twice about it," Y/n reassured him.

"But how do I know that..." Jonathan's voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

Y/n shot him a determined look. "You know because I said so. Leave her alone, she's fine," she insisted, sensing Jonathan's inclination towards paranoia.

Jonathan stole a glance at Y/n, his expression unreadable. "You seem quite protective of her," he remarked.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Of course I am, she's my friend."

Jonathan's expression darkened as he kept his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "Ah, so you won't be needing me for much longer," he muttered, his tone tinged with bitterness.

Y/n's heart sank at his words, a wave of panic coursing through her veins. Her hands grew clammy, trembling with uncertainty. "You know I need you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the car engine.

Jonathan's expression softened as he glanced briefly at Y/n, his grip on the steering wheel relaxing. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

Y/n felt a surge of relief wash over her as Jonathan reached out and took her trembling hand in his own. The warmth of his touch grounded her, easing the tension that had gripped her chest. "I know you didn't mean it like that," she replied, her voice steadier now.

They fell into a comfortable silence once more, the only sound in the car the soft hum of the engine as they continued their journey together.

-

So that was the little imagine part to this, but I also wanted to add a headcanon part to this~

So, as you've already seen, these two are the bOMB of keeping things under wraps. They don’t go out on dates or anything and generally avoid being out in public together.

Natrually, they get caught at uni

Y/n would be on the verge of a meltdown, convinced that this one slip-up would be it for her. She'd imagine having to disappear completely, going into hiding just to protect what little anonymity she has left.

Jonathan's first instinct would be to eliminate the witness, erasing any potential threat to their secrecy. However, Y/n surprises him by objecting, refusing to entertain the idea of harm coming to someone simply for stumbling upon their secret.

This triggers intense jealousy in Jonathan. He resents the idea of Y/n's concern for someone else's well-being, particularly when it’s her friend. He feels threatened by the possibility of anyone else having a significant place in Y/n's life, as he wants to be the sole focus of her attention and affection.

This prompts Jonathan to resort to subtle manipulation tactics. Recognizing Y/n's vulnerability around abandonment issues, he strategically suggests that she may not need him after all. His intention is to plant seeds of doubt in her mind about the importance of her friendship compared to the risk of losing him.

Other than that, Y/n may try to reassure Jonathan that everything is fine, while Jonathan might become more guarded and cautious in public settings from then on.

After the encounter, they would likely have a conversation about the incident, discussing the potential risks and how they can better avoid such situations in the future.

-

A/N: Just a short imagine, I have plans for the fic that wouldn't work if they got caught caught, so I just kept it nice and pretty general while still working into the fic. I can't wait to write the next part :) I hope you enjoyed this imagine/headcanon for Office Hours/Bells and look forward to what I have to post next :P 💚

[nariism]

chaos makes the muse

pair. hayakawa aki x gn!reader

content: enemies to lovers, fluff, mentions of addiction and smoking cigarettes (negatively, i'm sorry smokers pls look away), reader is a little shit and aki is sick and tired, swearing

synopsis. aki's life is defined by bad decisions and terrible habits. it culminated in you. he's screwed.

wc. 6.2k (oops)

a/n: this is my preemptive apology for all the smokers out there who i just slandered !! i am so sorry i love you. this fic was meant to be experimental with tropes and dynamics i've never tried before, sorry if it's not entirely up to standard :') i really tried my best guys... enjoy!

it started as a challenge.

it always starts as a challenge for aki — from the lit end of his cigarette to the place where it sits dangerously between his teeth. he picked it up as a bad habit from himeno. that was his first challenge; the way he'd adamantly refused to smoke but ultimately caved over a lukewarm bowl of ramen. what a depressing tale.

it wasn't meant to be anything more than a "why the hell not?" sort of defiance against the universe.

he hadn't been broken in by devil hunting yet and didn't need it as something to take the edge off. oh, how he wishes he could go back in time and slap himself silly.

day by day he found his reliance grew. an unpleasant itch in his throat, an insatiable craving that would slam into his chest and leave him breathless at the most inconvenient times. sometimes he would start muttering to himself in irritation when he got that familiar itch right after brushing his teeth.

as he got older and worked a little longer as a devil hunter, he grew less and less sane the longer he went without a smoke.

that was the second challenge; trying to focus on his jobs when his brain was buzzing with need. it was hard to stay sharp when he could feel the box sitting in his front pocket — agonizing, teasing, mocking him.

it's probably the reason he ended up in this mess in the first place, standing across from makima while she lists off all the ways he messed up on his last job. and the list is long. he must have really needed a dart.

so here he is, back turned to the door as he faces makima head-on. his fingers instinctively drum against the pocket of his pants, along the box sitting there, and all he can think is "i can't wait to get out of here for a smoke."

then the door swings open. a chill runs down his spine before he even turns around, because there's a certain air that enters the room unlike any he's felt before.

he's encountered the scariest devils out there. his whole family was taken out by a gargantuan gun-infested lovecraftian monster. but for some reason, aki gets an unfamiliar wave of horror that washes over him when he finally turns around.

"this is your new temporary partner until i'm sure you can be trusted alone on another mission."

and there you are. his third challenge.

you seem too relaxed to have been in this business for long, though it looks like you could only be a year or two younger than him. there's something about you that ticks him off. you're not a fiend — definitely not with how plain you are, but the way you're scowling at him as if he's a disease on this earth makes him second guess it.

aki can't even hear what makima is talking about anymore, too busy melting into a puddle under your heavy, judgemental glare. silence fills the room and aki is acutely aware that he's supposed to introduce himself, but you're too quick to speak and beat him to the punch.

"you smoke," is your deadpan and rather uncalled for observation.

"yes i do. and?"

you scrutinize him with a sneer, clearly disgusted.

"i don't like the smell of smoke. or smokers."

his jaw nearly drops at your bluntness. for the sake of keeping his cool exterior intact, he steels himself and takes a deep breath. it's fine. he knew how to deal with handfuls like you, like denji, like power. trouble kids. this would be easy–

"i promise you, i'll be uncooperative and keep you as a hostage in lower paying jobs until you quit."

"you... can't be serious?"

"dead serious."

"... and who the hell are you again?"

"i don't tell people my name."

"this whole mysterious act sucks. and your attitude sucks, too."

your glare sharpens at his words and you huff like a child throwing a tantrum. he almost wants to laugh at how your expression has changed. instead, he holds out his hand with a resigned sigh. "alright, alright. i'm sorry. my name is hay-"

you slap his hand away; a wordless warning accompanied by another look that makes him shrink back.

"don't care. didn't ask."

makima smiles, cruel and knowing. "i'm glad to see the two of you getting along. you're dismissed."

aki knows he shouldn't be mad at makima. it was his fault in the first place that the devil got away, and only because he was so distracted. this was a fair punishment for such a severe mess up. if this was her way of teaching him a lesson, he would just have to grit his teeth and bear through it.

he stares you down with disdain sitting under his tongue, bitter and unforgiving like the aftertaste of his black coffee in the morning; like having a mouthful of power and denji's burnt breakfast; like the tar that coats his lungs.

"fine then, be that way. nice to meet you, partner."

aki's mornings start slow.

they always have, for as long as he can remember. he wakes up just after the crack of dawn, to which denji has called him sick in the head multiple times for, and spends his time unwinding before he inevitably has to go into work and be on high alert for ten hours straight.

it's a peaceful morning like any other. he's on his balcony overlooking the quiet streets of tokyo. denji and power haven't woken up yet, so he has at least a few moments of solitude (which he so desperately needs, by the way).

he cracks open a new box of cigarettes and shakes one into his hand. he's two seconds away from flicking open his lighter to start his morning smoke when–

"i told you i don't like smokers."

aki nearly falls off the balcony in surprise, whipping around to see the intruder. you're standing there with another frown on your face. he has to wonder if you can smile at all.

"how did you get into my apartment?!"

"huh? the front door. are you stupid?"

"but–" aki's head tilts so that he can peer over your shoulder. there's no sign of anyone else being awake to let you in, which means you must have just taken the liberty of waltzing on in here unannounced. "don't sneak up on me like that. i could have hurt you."

"why would you do that?"

"excuse me? because you just broke into my apartment, for fuck's sake."

"i didn't!" you argue back defensively, fumbling in your pocket to pull out a key. and in that moment, aki realizes something deeply, deeply terrible. just as makima had sprung the role of babysitter onto him with denji and power, she has now bestowed upon him possibly the most irritating human being ever born.

this can’t be happening. he couldn’t possibly get stuck with a third unbearable roommate. what kind of shitty karma does he have?

"i... i need a minute."

your tongue clicks in annoyance. "hurry up. i want to leave for work asap."

"just go in yourself. i can meet you there later."

"i don't have a car."

it's as if thunder claps in his ears. "you... don't... have a car..." he repeats back to you slowly, utterly defeated. "at least let me finish getting ready."

you eye the cigarette still held between his fingers with nothing but contempt. "i don't like–"

"yes, yes, i get it! you don't like the smell of smoke. you don't like me."

your face scrunches slightly as you fall silent. if he didn't think you were being such a pest right now, he might have thought you looked a little cute.

"it hurts my nose."

"you have a sensitive nose or something?"

"or something."

his eye twitches.

aki very quicky learns that when you don't like how things are done, you're very vocal about it. and not only are you vocal, if he ever decided to be stubborn you would take actions into your own hands.

he can't count how many times you've stomped up to him in the middle of a job just to slap the cigarette straight out of his mouth and snuff it out with your heel. he's starting to get antsy because of it.

you're a menace. sometimes he even finds that a box of cigarettes he had purchased the night before has mysteriously ended up drenched at the bottom of the bath. it's infuriating.

he doesn't understand how someone could be so intolerant to a scent. he knew it was unpleasant, but he would like to think that he has impeccable enough hygiene to at least be passable. hell, even denji and power don't seem to notice or care.

(not that it's a very high bar to clear when it comes to them. denji once ate a kid's half-chewed leftovers off the table at mcdonalds and said it was a waste of food. aki was not pleased.)

it's not until he's known you for exactly sixty-two days that he learns the truth. two agonizing months of taking a single drag before you come over to him and snatch the cancer stick right out from under his nose.

aki isn't sure how he never noticed — the minute twitch of your nose when you were drawing closer to a devil. the way your shoulders stilled as you held your breath around denji and power.

he thought you were just a regular human being. he should have known makima wouldn't have paired him with someone normal. you were makima's personal devil tracker.

"it's this way," you tell him as you lead him further into the tunnel. it's almost pitch black. aki can't get a read on anything around him.

"how do you know?"

you look at him with an brow raised, like he just asked a really dumb question. "i can smell it."

"you can smell it?"

"i can smell it,” you repeat in confirmation.

"you're insane. there's nothing down here. let's just go back and regroup with–"

you suddenly swivel around, the flashlight in your hand beaming into his face. he has to cover them with a hand as he scowls at you for temporarily blinding him.

"no! it's here! it would just be easier to find if someone wasn't masking up its scent!"

aki's eyes roll into the back of his head at your little jab. "don't waste my time. i have better things to be doing than babysitting you down here."

he gestures dramatically for you to continue walking, shuffling around in his pocket before pulling out a dart. you glower at him distastefully.

"are you for real right now? you can't go 5 minutes without a smoke?"

he just shrugs, lighting it as he trails behind you. "if i need one then i need one."

"i can't believe you. you're seriously so childish," you sputter out, turning around to glare at him.

aki just sighs tiredly, blowing smoke into your face.

he can't wrap his head around why denji and power have taken such a liking to you.

you're rude and blunt and shameless with your remarks. if he was irrational he might have knocked you out by now for constantly swiping darts out of his mouth.

your relationship is purely obligatory. there's a level of mutual trust between you and him; there has to be for the two of you to be a partially functioning team of hunters — but even then, you bicker. and as soon as you're home, you rush into your room in a flurry of curse words and bites that leave aki grumbling to himself.

he doesn't get it. there's not an ounce of appeal.

you have a plain style and an even less exciting personality. he also thinks you have an ugly attitude problem and act like a brat when you want something from him. he always caves, too, which is the worst part — it's some unawakened big brother instinct that he never got to feel as a kid.

he spoils you too much for your own good. 

don't want carrots in your curry tonight? fine. he doesn't want to hear you complaining about it, or worse, flinging them around the room with power. again.

saw something at the hundred yen store on the way home? whatever. it's just a hundred yen. if you want it then he'll buy it even if it's something as stupid as a charm for your keychain.

and he hates that you find it all so sentimental, the cheap little trinkets he gets for you. he absolutely loathes the fact that you lug them all around with you. they clink and jingle as you walk around, a clear dead giveaway when you're trying to be stealthy during a job.

(the kicker? it's so endearing that he can't even find it in himself to scold you for it. he despises you for making him even consider calling you cute.)

he should have grown a stronger resolve about this sort of thing. otherwise, he would have been coming home unscathed tonight.

he exhales in exhaustion as he watches you retreat into your room again for the night before he shuffles over into the bathroom and sits at the edge of the tub. he had just bought you a little bracelet with a bell charm on it, jingling with every step you took. it was a grave mistake to bring it into enemy territory.

as much as he would love to place the blame on you, he can't. not when you're so much less experienced out in the field than he is, and not when you were so reserved the entire ride home.

it was his fault. he should have known better.

you were eerily silent as you drove (he was in no condition to drive, so despite his reluctance handing you his car keys, he really had no choice). there was a look on you that was unrecognizable — something morphed between guilt and worry.

he usually doesn't smoke in the confines of his apartment, taking his cigarettes outside where it'll smell less. but he needs one badly right now, and who are you to stop him in his own home?

he catches his reflection in the mirror above the sink. it hits him then how much of a mess he is right now; hair disheveled and masking his vision, blood staining his white button-up, sweat sticking to his forehead and smoke rising to veil half of his face.

aki doesn't get paid enough for this.

"you look like shit."

his eyes flutter closed at the sound of your voice from the door. you invite yourself in, standing a few feet away from him with a hand covering your nose.

"smell like it, too."

"yeah, i bet," he mumbles, pulling the dart from between his teeth to blow smoke in your direction like he always does when you’re pissing him off. you wave it away with a scowl.

"that was rude."

"speak for yourself."

"you suck."

"did you come in here just to be a bother?"

your face twists and he almost bursts out laughing at the constipated expression you give him. you fumble a little with your sleeves, gaze falling to the floor as you stand there like a kid who just threw up and needs their mom to come clean it up.

"do you need help?" you ask him, voice nearly inaudible.

he considers it for a second before his eyes drift to the cigarette still lit between his fingers. "no. it's fine. it's probably better if you're not in here with me right now."

"but you're hurt."

"i've been through worse. i'm fine, really," aki raises a brow at you and your strange behaviour, "don't worry about it."

you're silent again for a moment as his words sink in. "i feel bad. i feel like it's my fault." you sound earnest about it, chewing on your bottom lip guiltily.

he exhales loudly in response, shifting his weight a little on the tub so he can unbutton his shirt. "okay, okay. quit making that face. it's creeping me out."

you huff at his words but surprisingly offer no rebuttal. you waddle over to him slowly, brows furrowing further with each drag of your feet against the tile floor. he watches you curiously as you rummage through the sink cabinet and kneel in front of him, body resting between his thighs.

if you can feel how warm he gets from the action, you don't bother teasing him about it.

your nose is entirely scrunched up now, though you do your best to hide your clear disdain for the scent of smoke filling your nose.

"you really don't have to do this. i promise i'm okay."

you leer at him stubbornly and he immediately relents, not in the mood for a petty argument. you work quickly and delicately, wrapping his wound in gauze. it's then that he realizes there's no tiny jingle of a bell filling the air as you move, and he looks down to see your empty wrist.

"for the record, it wasn't your fault," he says quietly, hand stopping yours. you don't try and slap it away this time, but falter a bit.

"... you don't have to try to be nice to me."

"i'm not trying to be nice. i'm just telling you how it is."

"but–"

"no buts."

your eyes meet his as you peer up at him. you stay still for just a beat before you're wrapping him again, careful not to nick his wound.

are you... crying?

it's subtle, the little tears gathering on your lashes. he might not have realized if it wasn't accompanied by the tiniest of sniffles (which makes you recoil back slightly with the intrusion of smoke filling your lungs).

oh no. he's growing a soft spot for you because of this. the most irritating human on the planet, and he wants to give you a hug so you'll stop crying. what the hell is wrong with him.

aki's hand plops onto the top of your head before either of you realize it's happening. he awkwardly averts his stare.

"don't cry. it's ugly on you."

and it really is, because why else would his heart be having such a violent reaction to it?

for a second he anticipates the sharp sting of your hand smacking his away again, or maybe you'll even be so angry that you'll tilt your head up and sink your teeth into him like a rabid animal. 

but you don't. you laugh — a real genuine laugh that makes him dizzy.

he's never been able to picture you with a smile on your face before. you always look feral, like you're about to launch at him and tear his skin off, or so tired that you can't even keep your eyes open anymore.

he sucks in a deep breath as he watches you laugh, blinking the tears out and wiping them up with your sleeve.

you don't say anything to him in response, instead giggling to yourself as you bandage him up the rest of the way. and he doesn't say anything either, not wanting to ruin something so special.

aki realizes that there's still a cigarette he's unconsciously rolling between his fingers. he hasn't taken a drag in so long that it's starting to extinguish itself. and despite the smell of smoke filling the room, you haven't stopped cleaning his wound and wrapping him.

he crushes it up in his hand and drops the ashes into the tub behind him.

he really should quit.

there's a shift in aki in the following weeks.

it's almost palpable — the way he speaks a little softer. a little more tender. kinder. and you can smell it, too; the scent of smoke slowly disappearing over time (not entirely, mind you, but it's the thought that counts).

you first noticed it when you came home from mcdonalds with denji, fries stuffed into your cheeks as you blinked down at aki who was on his hands and knees wiping down every square inch of the apartment.

"come on man, we're not that messy for you to be doing all that..." denji complained while scratching his balls. but aki didn't dignify him with a response, dutifully using a sponge and warm soapy water to scrub at the walls.

you observed him in secrecy later that night, peering into the bathroom as he dumped out the bucket of brown water. he was scrubbing the apartment clean of two years worth of smoke.

it didn't end there. as the months passed, you started smelling it on aki less, too.

once he smoked he would shower right away, even going so far as to pull over on the way home one night and use a public bathhouse. when he could he would change his clothes, too. his sudden change in lifestyle made it significantly more tolerable to linger around him. no longer were you holding your breath until your lungs ached in your ribcage.

aki also took notice of your change in behaviour in response. it was easier to be around you when you weren't constantly whining about his smell.

he didn't think he was being so obvious in the way he was starting to enjoy your company day by day. you still gave him migraines like no other, and he couldn't stand your attitude. but he couldn't help but find your quirks a little charming, at least a bit funny if nothing else.

he wasn't aware that a very watchful (and perverted) pair of eyes was picking up on his signs.

it's a quiet morning with the fan blowing. you and power are still dead to the world and aki has just settled down to have his breakfast.

"so like, what's the deal with you two anyways?"

he glances up from his food with a tilt of the head.

"what are you talking–"

"cause i mean, i totally saw you checking out their ass yesterday." at denji's remark, aki almost chokes on his rice.

"what? i absolutely was not." he guffaws at the blond as if he's ludicrous.

"riiiight... so, you're not into each other then? what's with the looks?"

"what looks?"

denji makes it a point to be theatrical in his renditions of the previous night, sighing dreamily and fluttering his lashes.

"like that."

"... just eat your breakfast, man. you're imagining things."

"nah, but i'm not. c'mon, you don't like them even a little?"

"no."

"liar."

"denji..." aki strains the name out through grit teeth — a warning.

"what'cha guys talkin' about?"

god no. aki can't do this today. not right now. it's too early in the morning.

"we were just talking about how lovey-dovey aki's been lately."

"ohoho, so he finally admits it?" power sits across the table, suddenly interested in conversation.

"i didn't admit anything..." aki puts his chopsticks down with a frustrated sigh, "and what the hell do you mean finally?"

"he totally did admit it. and you should have seen the two of them yesterday—"

"dude, i'm going to kick you in the balls."

"let me have a turn!"

"will you two stop already? i'm getting a headache."

it's a horrible conversation, honestly. a terrible, horrific, unforgiving realization that they might be even a small fraction correct. 

this whole household is the bane of his existence.

this thought sticks with him all day; they're going to be the death of me. why me, universe? why me? it doesn't stop until he finally settles into bed at the end of his long day and lets his eyes slide shut for some well-deserved sleep.

there's laughter echoing in his ears, nothing more than a dreamy hallucination as he drifts in and out of sleep. it's sweet and rare and beautiful — he wants to capture it in a bottle and get drunk off of it.

just as aki is about to fall asleep, there's a gentle knock at the door. he stirs awake again with a soft groan, sitting up in bed.

"come in."

in you walk, hands clasped in front of you as you stare at your feet. "i had a nightmare."

he scoffs, but he's climbing out of bed and trodding over to you anyways. "what are you, a child? what'd you come to me about that for?"

"jerk."

he considers you quietly, focusing on the bags under your eyes and the way you shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze.

"well what do you want me to do?"

you chew on your lip for a moment. "can i sleep in here?"

"with me?"

"with you."

aki looks at you like you've lost your mind. "no," he says immediately. you wouldn't get a very restful sleep if you were suffocating in the lingering smell of smoke.

he expects you to put up a fight like you always do when things don't go your way. he even braces himself for the onslaught of names you'll call him.

it never comes. instead:

"okay."

quiet and resigned and tired. and he hates that it makes his stomach drop, because next thing he knows his hand is shooting forward to capture your wrist as you retreat.

"god, quit looking so sad. you're the worst," he tells you as he drags you back into the room and unceremoniously tosses you onto his bed.

"dickwad," you bite back weakly. aki can only roll his eyes in response as he takes half his pillows and blankets to make a temporary bed on the floor for himself. you watch him curiously.

"you're not sleeping in the bed?"

"you wouldn't be able to sleep if you were that close to me."

"... right."

"goodnight," he huffs, settling onto the uncomfortably hard wooden floor. a hush settles over the room and he assumes you've either fallen asleep or are trying to, until you start shuffling around for a couple seconds. he can hear your mouth opening and closing, as if you’re deciding whether or not to say something.

"what is it now?" aki sighs, rolling onto his side to peek at you. you're already facing him, balled up into the blanket.

"can i hold your hand at least?"

he gawks at you for a second before recomposing himself. it's just hand holding, who cares? not him. not even a bit.

(liar.)

"fine," he mumbles, slowly reaching up to offer his hand. you take it tentatively, fingers gently curling around his. his brain almost explodes into malfunctioning, heart stopping in his chest.

you blink at each other, gazes steady and unwavering. then your eyes flutter closed as you pull the blanket up and over the bottom half of your face.

"hayakawa?"

"what?" he studies you, watching the way your expression changes ever so slightly.

soft, relaxed.

"thank you."

some part of aki knows he shouldn't be trying to memorize every part of you like this, but he does it anyways.

devil hunters don't get attached to others. they don't, and they can't. but aki can't help it. it was his worst habit — worse than smoking, actually.

he was always getting emotionally involved when it came to his partners. he couldn't go to sleep anymore thinking about the fact that you would have to go in the next day and face whatever horrible devil got assigned to you. there was a sickness that gurgled in his stomach when he pictured your ragged corpse, unmoving and lifeless at his feet.

it stresses him out beyond reason, even though you're in the next room over perfectly alive and breathing. and when aki is stressed, he reaches for a cigarette.

he thinks he's being quiet, and since you should be asleep he figures just one wouldn't hurt. so he sneaks out onto his balcony for a smoke, leaning over the edge of the railing so that he can observe the empty streets below.

for some reason, he hesitates for a moment as he brings it to his lips. he doesn't even get to light it before he's once again rudely interrupted.

"you're smoking."

it's as if you have a secret sense for when he's about to smoke. or maybe you can just smell them when he taps them out of the box. either way, it irks him.

aki sighs, hand slowly lowering and dangling over the railing. he doesn't even try to deny it as he glances over his shoulder at you. you're leaning against the door frame with your arms crossed. you don't seem as irritated as you usually do, instead regarding him steadily in slight defeat.

it makes his heart ache, so he flicks the unlit dart off the balcony and watches it disappear into the darkness of the street below.

"it's unhealthy, you know."

"i know."

"so why?"

"you think i chose to be this way?" in some ways he did, but he'd never tell you that.

silence befalls you as you join his side, resting your elbows on the railing. it's a calm night; a gentle breeze blows the hair from your face when you turn to look at him.

you wordlessly examine him, and he does the same. you’re more exhausted than usual, wilted like a flower starved for water. he knows it must be draining trying to keep up with someone in a special division — especially since you don't seem to be anything more than a bomb dog for makima, sniffing out where devils are hiding. he doesn't blame you for being so tired.

"hey," he frowns at you.

"what?"

"are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"no."

"seriously?"

"seriously."

he lets out a tiny groan of annoyance before he gets an idea. "if i quit smoking, would you tell me?"

you survey him cautiously. "i'd consider it."

aki runs a hand through his long hair in contemplation, looking out toward the complex across from his. "i don't get how people just quit on a whim. doesn't seem possible."

"they have stuff for that. like, chewing gum or nicotine patches or whatever." he huffs as you continue, "you just need to find something to take your mind off of it. something that satisfies your craving."

"yeah? way easier said than done. also, i don't know if i like being lectured by the likes of–"

"you'd be too irritating if you were addicted to anything else, anyways," you dismiss your own idea, completely ignoring the glare you're receiving from aki.

"you're annoying, you know that? worse than denji. worse than power, somehow." but he wants to take care of you anyways.

"am i?" you challenge defiantly, turning to face him completely.

"the worst. honest to god, i've considered quitting my job because of you." but he hasn't, has he?

"have you now?"

"what the hell was makima thinking, trying to get me to quit smoking by sending her tracker after me?" he should be thanking her, really.

you answer him honestly, voice quiet as you allow him to unconsciously enter your personal space in his rant of frustration. "i don't know."

he only realizes he's standing too close to you when your nose twitches slightly and your brows furrow — indicators that the faint but lingering smell of smoke on him is giving you a headache.

"sorry."

he starts to pull back with a defeated noise, but then your hands shoot forward and gently cling to his sweater. he looks at you inquisitively. you seem surprised by your own actions, too.

aki is forced to reconcile with the fact that he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of you. in his almost twenty-one years alive, he's never stood so close to someone before. it's taking a real toll on him.

a heavy fog of tension settles between you as you stand there, having a stare down both out of stubbornness and curiosity as to why the other hasn't pulled away yet.

"i don't know what's wrong with me... i don't think i want you to go inside yet. stop making me feel stupid," you complain, admitting your words shamelessly.

you watch as aki blinks at you before he shakes his head in exasperation. 

"what am i going to do with you?"

there's a smile on his face as he says it, tiny and subtle. you would have missed it if he wasn't slowly inching closer and closer to you. and you let him despite the suffocating smell of smoke invading your senses again.

it occurs to him that the only things he has ever kissed are his wounds as he dresses them in bandages, himeno when she was wasted once, and the papery end of a cigarette.

you taste much sweeter than any of them.

maybe it was just easy for aki to fall into addictions. he was weak-willed in that sense. always has been.

and he always chose the absolute worst things in the world to get addicted to; revenge, smoking, and now you. he couldn't stand being in the same room as you anymore. not when he so desperately craved your lips on his.

it started as a casual thing; a small peck here, a sneaky kiss there, nothing jaw dropping. and you didn't seem to mind it all too much, allowing him to linger a little longer every time he leaned back in.

it was becoming a problem. a very serious one. he couldn't focus anymore. it was worse than smoking, so much so that everytime he wanted to reach for a box of cigarettes, he would end up coming to you instead.

there was something about you he wanted to preserve. a fondness grew in his heart, replacing the scream of annoyance that would fill his lungs and threaten to spill out every time he laid eyes on you.

you were something he wanted to keep. something to protect. someone to fill the silence when no one else would.

aki liked bickering with you. he found normalcy in it, as if he'd spent his whole life doing it. and sometimes it really did feel that way — as if he'd spent lifetimes before this one by your side.

it's why he clings to you so tightly when he almost loses you.

you're perched in his lap as he holds you, slowly running your fingers through his untied hair. the driver's seat of the car wasn't built for two people to sit; his legs are far too cramped to be comfortable and your knees are pressed harshly into his thighs.

he doesn't care. aki has never cared so much until he met you.

he's robbing you of air, clinging to you so tightly that you can barely move. he can hear you complaining against his lips, but he can't bring himself to stop.

"stop doing this to me," he hisses, knocking his forehead into yours so that he can stare into your soul. "it's ridiculous. i hate you. i hate you."

he kisses you again to bury the familiar lump growing in his throat.

"i told you to fucking stay put. why can't you just listen to me? you could have died. what would i have done then, huh?" you don't answer him, instead cupping his cheeks to try and calm him down.

"you're stupid and reckless and fuck — what would i do without you?" he closes his eyes when your nose brushes against his; a silent apology.

"i hate how much you mean to me, i hate your stupid laugh and your voice and how awful it makes me feel when you look sad. i hate that you keep all the worthless shit i buy you on the way home from work and i hate that you stand so close even after a smoke–" aki's jaw tenses to try and dam the outburst spilling out of him, but he can’t.

"–i hate that i love you. i hate it. i hate you. fuck! i love you–"

he's out of breath by the time he finishes getting his words out, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully. you blink down at him as you brush the hair from his face.

he’s always so composed, even when he's being mean to you. it's rare to see him worked up like this. you can't help but smile.

"... don't just smile at me, idiot. say something," he pleads quietly, head falling against your shoulder as he keeps you in place.

he squeezes his eyes shut when your fingers thread carefully through his undone hair once again, raking the knots out smoothly. he melts in your touch until your hands leave his scalp and gather up his face again so you can look at him.

there's no tiny twitch of your nose. no furrowing of your brows. no stilling of your chest as you hold your breath. actually, he's never seen you so openly inviting.

"can i kiss you?" aki asks this time, voice hoarse.

you nod, and his whole world comes apart. he takes his time memorizing every curve of your lips against his, the taste of you, the little gasps of air you suck in as he seals his claim on you with his mouth.

"aki..." you murmur his given name against his lips, over and over and over. you whisper it between kisses that leave you breathless. and he swallows your voice, allowing himself to revel in the way his name sounds on your tongue.

he didn't smell of smoke anymore. he didn't taste like death and ash, either — he was just aki.

hayakawa aki, 20, professional devil hunter and resident cynic, who you're hopelessly in love with.

“aki?”

“yeah?”

"do you still want to learn my name?"

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

🏷️ @k0z3me @aanobrain (bye ily hope you enjoy this one art)

crossposted to ao3!

[ask-aph-hws-iceland]

[OOC: hello again! Paiko here! So, there's been a bunch more ask blog drama these past few days, so I thought I'd give a very friendly reminder of some other unspoken (that at this point should be spoken) rules of having an ask blog.

Alright, uhm, can we all agree as a community to avoid having very heavy historical topics play a part in our blogs? I know a lot of us are huge history nerds which is absolutely fantastic, but let's keep in mind that hetalia is very silly and unserious, so it might not be in very good taste to portray a serious topic in a very goofy medium. It just doesn't sit quite well. Now, a lot of people may wonder if what they're doing can be considered insensitive, well, a good way to know is listening to your followers. Respecting the people who read your blog is a very important part of having a good ask blog. If something isn't sitting well with a lot of people, maybe let's avoid it.

On that topic, having unique headcanons for your ask blog character (I've seen people call them muses too) is absolutely amazing and one hundred percent your right, however, you have to consider that hetalia, unlike countryballs or countryhumans, is not so versatile. People come into it with a specific expectation. Having our own unique headcanons is great, but there's a point where it strays so far that it's better to just make an original character or an 'OC'. I love seeing people's headcanons as it adds a lot of depth to the characters, but just because a pool is shallow that doesn't mean your shoes won't get wet if you step in it. All the hetalia characters could use more development which is what a lot of us do with our headcanons, but we have to accept that some people just won't like them.

Try to refrain from making headcanons about certain subjects if you're not entirely confident in your ability to portray them in a sensitive and respectful way. A lot of us suffer from things like weak vision, allergies, etcetera and it's very fun to get to put little parts of ourselves into our characters, but what gets tricky is portraying medical conditions we personally do not have. Things can get super insensitive very quickly, so it's really important to try and be mindful about these things. I've said before on my main blog that I really do not like bringing up topics of chronic illnesses because I personally do not suffer from one and I know that I'm not nearly educated enough to talk about someone else's experience. This doesn't only apply to physiological conditions. I know we all love our angst, but let's not trivialize mental health problems. It can be very upsetting to people who do suffer from these conditions. They have to see something that they know much more about than anyone should ever have to know. They are the ones who will have to see that, so again, let's try to be mindful.

If you get into trouble with any other blog or even another group of blogs, there are good ways to go about addressing these issues rather than just straight up fighting. I think I speak for a lot of blogs when I say that we'd like to keep this community relatively drama free. I'll let you in on a little secret, no matter how right you are about something, there will always be someone who just refuses to see things any other way. We have to start considering each other's thoughts when it comes to disagreements especially when it comes to fandom discourse. I'd hate for someone to be driven away from the fandom over a disagreement gone wrong. Remember, you're dealing with strangers here, let's try to keep things peaceful.

And that's about it for now, if any of these things apply to you, no worries, we're all working on bettering ourselves and it'll take time, patience and guidance, but it's worth an effort.

Alrighty! Bye!]

[jane-the-virgin0]

Knocking at death's door (ch. 2)

summary: ~right before ROTS~ you're the Princess of a foreign land, about to be Queen. your father, although unknown to you, is Palpatine (pls suspend your disbelief), and you have force lightning powers. your powers have been sensed by the Grand Council and they know that you'll be recruited to the dark side, so they send Obi-Wan and Anakin to kill you before you can be used as a weapon. your life is doomed from the start, but Obi-Wan can't complete his mission.

pairing: Obi-Wan/reader

rating: 18+, minors DNI

warnings: violence (it is Star Wars), eventual smut, fluff, angst, death, age gap (reader is 24)

chapters: 1 ✧ 2/?

w/c: ~1237 (oops sorry not longer lol)

a/n: i've decided i'm gonna switch POV's every chapter:) hope u like!

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

“Master, must we have to act as a bodyguard for yet another princess?” Anakin whined.

“We are not bodyguards, have you been listening? We are to pose as bodyguards to gain the princess’ trust, then we are going to kill her.”

“Why can we not go kill her now?”

“Patience, Anakin. We must observe her and see how strong her sith powers are. If we were to engage her in combat immediately, we run the risk of being overpowered.”

“But-“

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, exasperated with his young padawan.

He directed their cruiser towards the distant planet. He too was incredulous about the fact that Mace Windu, and the rest of the Grand Council, would send their Jedi on a mission to one of the farthest reaches of the galaxy to kill a no-name princess. But if it must be done for good of galaxy, then Obi-Wan was willing to do it.

Still, he mused to himself, how did a long-lost daughter of Palpatine hide under the radar for so long? And being only a few years older than Anakin? If she was as half as strong as Anakin, they would be in trouble.

Sighing, he prepared the craft for landing.

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

“During this transfer of power, we are here to protect the princess and offer guidance for traveling to and from the Senate.” 

“Wonderful!” The Queen exclaims, gracefully eating her plate of fresh fruit.

“Y/N? Anything to add?” She says pointedly.

“…No. Not really, your Grace.”

Obi-Wan eyes the Princess. She picks at her plate, mixing all the food together into one big blob.

“We are merely here to keep you safe, Princess, do not fear of us getting in your way.” Obi-Wan adds.

The Princess eyes him warily, her body language like that of a stray cat, coiled back and ready to attack if needed. 

“Nonsense! She will be fine- in fact, she will be pleasant and accompany you on a tour throughout the palace before our court convenes.” The Queen says, standing up from the table, her handmaiden rushing to pull the chair back for her.

Obi-Wan looked back at the Princess, catching her throw a deathly glare at the Queen.

He felt exhausted already. His frustration with being sent on a mission that was proving to be a lot more troublesome than originally thought - himself and Anakin really should be able to kill her in a week, but with her stubbornness, it would likely take longer to get her to trust them - combined with having to wrangle Anakin like normal was beginning to put him in a sour mood.

Obi-Wan stood up, gently bowing to the Queen. He puts a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, interrupting his focus on stuffing his face full of fresh fruit and bread.

Anakin’s chair squeaks back as he rushes to stand.

“Thank you, your Grace.” He says.

Obi-Wan nearly rolls his eyes.

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around and then to your quarters.”

Y/N stands up and begins to walk down the hall. Obi-Wan and Anakin trail after her.

“It is a beautiful palace, Princess. What do you know of its construction?” Obi-Wan asks, attempting to make conversation.

Y/N shrugs.

Anakin attempts to hold back a snort.

“I cannot say. All I know is that my grandmother, the Queen before my mother, helped to build the garden that helps to feed everyone in the castle. It is located in the back, if you are ever curious and want to meander through.” She says, keeping her gaze forward.

“Do you ever leave the palace?” Anakin asks, sauntering up to walk next to Y/N.

Y/N pays him no mind. “Rarely, only for special occasions like festivals and crowning ceremonies.”

Anakin makes eye contact with Obi-Wan, considering what she said.

“Here is the library-“ Y/N says, pointing towards an open door.

“And down the hall is the ballroom.”

“You have parties here often?”

“Anakin.”

For the first time, the Princess laughs. It’s a soft laugh, barely audible, but there nonetheless. 

He feels himself smile in response.

“Yes, actually. We host the court and their families, as well as any important families in towns across the realm. Although they meet with the Queen for business, we try to keep them happy with dancing, music, and alcohol once a month.”

“When’s the next one?”

“Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed.

“In a few days time, actually. Presuming you are…still here, you might be able to experience it.”

They walked in silence down the hall and up the stairs.

“These two rooms here are for you. The one down the hall and to the right is mine.” She points at three rooms.

“I will take the first watch tonight, Princess.” Obi-Wan says.

She halts.

“First watch?”

“Yes, we’re here to protect you, so we’re going to watch over your room while you sleep.” Anakin says, shrugging.

“Absolutely not.” Y/N says sharply, her demeanor now even more frosty.

“I’m afraid that cannot be helped, Princess. We have promised the Queen that we would keep you safe-“

“I’ve never had someone guard my room before! I am not to be a prisoner in my own palace!”

Her angry words matched the fire in her eyes. Before either of them could respond, she marched into her room and slammed the door.

Anakin turned to Obi-Wan.

“Still think I’m annoying?” He grins and walks back the way they came.

Prisoner in her own room? They were sent here to make sure no one got in and tried to take even more advantage of her Sith powers. But what if they needed to be more concerned with her getting out?

˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✧ ﾟ. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

Obi-Wan stands outside the Princess’s room, the air from the hall window blowing a frigid breeze onto his body. He wraps his robes tighter around his torso.

The Princess claimed she liked to sleep with the windows open, much to the disdain of Obi-Wan. While he saw no reason to believe her untrustworthy, he made sure to let her know how much of a security risk it could be.

“Princess, something could sneak into your bedchambers and harm you, without us knowing.” He had said.

She scoffed.

“My window merely backs up to the back courtyard. Do you expect a stray fenner’s rock to harbor such ill will for me that it climbs my brick walls and strangles me in my sleep?”

“Princess, I sincerely care for your safety-”

“Enough!” She said, and slammed the door behind her.

If he did not know any better, he would liken her attitude to Anakin's.

Unfortunately, she had yet to do anything that would raise suspicion, and going to the Queen to tattle on the Princess would only make her like him less, so he was forced to trust her.

Anakin was in bed, resting until it was his shift, which was not for a while. Obi-Wan was trained to have his guard up at all times, after all, a Jedi must be sharp and prepared for anything. 

…Which was why when he heard a slight rustling outside the window, he moved slowly, lightsaber at the ready. Taking a quick peek outside, he saw a flash of white and the Princess’ hair darting through a bush.

Mentally cursing at himself, he slides through the window and down the short drop onto the ground below.

Following after Y/N, he had no time to think about why he really let her get away with keeping your window open in the first place.

[dearly-somber]

I’m Yours | k.yh | day6

-> pairing. non-idol!younghyun x female reader

-> genre. fluff, s2l (strangers-to-lovers), university!au, pining

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 886

-> warnings. none!

-> a/n. I’m you-o-o-o-ours

-> collection. songfic

-> started. ???

-> fin. Oct. 18th, 2020 @ 20:23

-> edited. Fri., Jul. 14th, 2023 @ 23:45

Light summer breeze. Petals falling down in the most satisfying way, pooling at your feet as you walk to the beat of your heart, holding the handle of your umbrella tight enough to whiten your knuckles.

The crickets were out now that the darkness had fallen, a slight drizzle of rain warming your blood. You were wearing an oversized sweater and some shorts that were hidden underneath the fabric you wore on your upper half, a pair of old sneakers to match.

You had decided to take a late night walk, eyes red and puffy from too much crying. You had been having some boy trouble and had been embarrassed in front of probably your whole university, so crying was the only way to make you feel less shitty, and no one could tell you otherwise. You had been walking for a few minutes and stopped by your favorite café near Han River, going to stand over the bridge running over the river after ordering yourself some coffee. You were sniffing the air with closed eyes when you suddenly opened them to what you had assumed was an angel, before you realized that he didn't have wings.

He was wearing a creamy beige turtle neck sweater and jeans with ankle high boots, his black hair falling very gently into his face and accentuating his jawline as he watched the water as if it was the most interesting thing on earth. He had a see-through umbrella over his shoulder, the fairy lights that were attached to it only making him look that much more angelic, if it were possible.

You continued shamelessly staring at the gorgeous stranger, eventually wandering over and standing next to him.

"Penny for your thoughts, stranger?" you asked in a light voice, a warm smile adorning your face.

The angel turned to look at you slowly, eyes jumping around questioningly, as if to ask "Who? Me?"

You immediately decide that this angel was cute and that you wanted to keep him, your smile getting wider. Just a few hours ago you had embarrassed yourself in front of everyone you knew while talking to a boy that you liked, yet here you were making it seem effortless.

"Do I know you?" He asked in the most honey like voice you had ever heard, the sound strangely addictive. Still smiling, you shook your head with a shrug.

"Not at all." You giggled childishly at the way his brow furrowed in confusion, at his mercy, completely helpless to his charms. "I just noticed the way you were staring at the water and you look like you're thinking very deeply about something," you explained, heart jumping into his hands when he laughed in disbelief, tilting his head at you with a smile.

"Is that so?"

You nodded, your cheeks starting to ache from smiling too much.

"Why don't I tell you over a cup of coffee, since we're at a café?" he asked cheekily, a grin pulling at his lips.

You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and pulling him over to the seating area. You turned to look at him with a grin of your own before saying, "Great idea! I've already ordered."

---

After sitting down he introduced himself as Kang Younghyun, occasionally called Brian by his close friends, who was majoring in Business at your university with Music as his extra classes. You told him your name, telling him that you’re majoring in Writing, hoping to become an editor (since you weirdly enough enjoy editing), and that you were taking art and music as extra classes.

"So then, Younghyun, you sill haven't answered my first question," you said matter-of-factly, sipping at your latte with a raised brow.

"Oh, that? I thought that was you flirting?" he mused with a smirk, the teasing tone in his voice making you chortle.

"Oh no it was, but I'm genuinely curious," you said, chortling at the way he laughed disbelievingly.

"I was thinking about how I need to man up and ask this girl I like in my music class out." he said, shrugging as he sighed deeply.

"Oh, you like someone?" you asked dejectedly, playing with your coffee cup. Brian nodded, sighing again.

"Well then," you said, slamming your fist against the table and gaining not only Younghyun's attention but a few people around you's attention as well.

"I say, go for it! I doubt you have anything to lose," you encouraged him confidently. He raised a brow with a smirk, looking at you as if to say "excuse me what?"

You rolled your eyes before starting to explain.

"Listen, Brian—can I call you Brian?"

"Go ahead." He smiled.

"Right then, Brian, listen. You seriously have nothing to lose. Maybe a smudge of pride but that's nothing. I mean have you seen yourself? I'm sure every girl would be willing to throw themselves at you, hell, sign me up!" you rambled on, hands all over the place and not realizing the way Younghyun was looking at you.

"You really think so?" he asked softly, making you think of a puppy, your heart melting.

You nodded solemnly, smiling at him.

"Definitely."

With the most shit eating grin ever, he cleared his throat. "Okay, then. Y/N, I really like you and would like to take you to dinner."

“Oh, shit.”