#again tysm to my other asks but this one was just easy to answer quick because i knew it already lmao. i have responses to the others 🫶

[headkiss]

non bau! reader suggestion! : librarian! reader!!! oh how i love librarian! reader...

-🪲

tysm for your request!! <3 | 0.8k words, r wears a dress and is referred to as she twice

As a library assistant, you’re used to receiving phone calls. Turning on your customer service voice, answering questions, wishing them a nice day, hang up, repeat.

It’s one of the main things you do, stationed at the desk for most of the day until there are enough returns on the cart to put away. You’ve already answered four calls this morning. Easy ones, at least, about whether or not you have a book in stock or your hours.

It’s the fifth phone call that surprises you completely.

“Hi, my name is Spencer Reid, I’m with the FBI.” is what the voice on the other side of the phone says to you when you pick up.

“Oh! Um. How can I help you?”

“We’re working on a case here, and I’m looking for a book that might help us. Would you be able to see if you have it in stock?”

“Yeah! Yes, of course. It’s what I’m here for.”

“I’m looking for a copy of Wuthering Heights. It would have been checked out and returned recently, probably by a white male.”

Your stomach sinks a little. “Is that the, uh, guy you’re looking for?”

“He might be,” Spencer says. Then, as if he can sense your spike of fear, “Let us worry about that, you focus on the book.”

“Right,” you flex your fingers and turn to your computer, pulling up the records. “Yes, it looks like a copy was checked out on Monday and returned.. yesterday evening.”

“Would you be able to set that aside for me?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much,” he says, then the line clicks.

You keep the phone in your hand for a moment, grasping on to the fact that someone the literal FBI is looking for might have been here just yesterday. Hell, you might have even spoken to him before.

Just as you snap yourself out of it and set the phone down, the front door is pushed open, a gentle breeze ruffling the pages of the books nearby. Through it walks a man wearing a sweater vest over a button up, a tie around his neck. His hair gets ruffled by the wind, too.

“Hi, I’m Spencer. We spoke on the-” he pauses when he looks at you, his eyes flitting across your face to your nametag and back up. His voice is quieter when he finishes “-phone.”

It’s then that you notice the credentials he has clutched in his hand. “Hi! That was faster than I expected.”

“The precinct is just around the corner,” he says.

You nod. “Let me just go grab that book for you.”

Spencer watches you go, your dress sweeping against your thighs as you slip out from behind the counter and into the aisles. He rocks back and forth on his feet, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater.

When you come back, Wuthering Heights in hand and cardigan slipping off your shoulder, he almost forgets why he’s there in the first place.

“Here it is,” you say, walking up to him, the book held out in front of you.

“Thank you,” he takes it from you, fingertips brushing yours.

You scan his face, and he looks so gentle, so sweet, that you let your curiosity slip out. “Can I ask why you need a book to solve your case?”

“We think the unsu- the man we’re looking for might have left a clue behind in it.”

“Like, a highlighted passage or something?”

“Exactly like that.”

“Defacing library books and wanted by the FBI… this guy really sucks.”

Spencer laughs. A quick, surprised thing that makes you smile, too.

“I hope it helps you find him,” you say.

“Me too. Thanks again,” Spencer says, looking at your nametag again and then letting it slip from his lips. “I’ll bring it back as soon as we’re done.”

“You don’t need to do that,” you say. “It’s considered damaged and, well, I’d rather not have a book read by a killer on the shelves.”

Spencer nods, saying yet another soft ‘thank you’ before heading out the door.

He slides into the passenger seat of the SUV (he would have walked to the library but they were kind of in a rush, active killer and all), and Morgan is immediately suspicious. “What took you so long, pretty boy?”

“She had to find the book,” Spencer says, clearing his throat.

“Oh, okay. Weren’t getting your flirt on or anything, huh?”

“I wasn’t- she was nice.” Spencer can feel his cheeks warming. He hopes Derek doesn’t notice as they pull out onto the street.

He knows you said not to return the book, but Spencer thinks he’ll bring it back anyways. Eidetic memory works better on printed words and images, after all. Maybe he’ll just.. forget.

[danosrosegarden]

YOU WROTE IT SO WELL TY AND SO QUICK-?? tysm and I’m glad you liked the request isjdjjdjd

Could I request something to do with Eddie giving reader (with female anatomy) head and reader becoming overwhelmed with pleasure and their hand that guided him in his hair pulling away so their thighs can pull him in instead,

Post climax, fretting over him and asking if he’s alright, kissing him all over etc, brushing slicked hair to the side, wiping his chin, and him being absolutely winded but incredibly aroused from the experience, he probably came in his pants let’s be honest,

This is more a scenario than a request sorry for writing so much !! Ty again !!

- 🦷 anon

devotion - edward nashton x fem!reader (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: cunnilingus with an obsessive edward, sacrilegious comparisons, very mild mentions of past trauma (nothing in detail), and one usage of a pet name (puppy).}

The way his velvet tongue laps and swirls around you is devotion. The way your fingers dance up his sweat-slicked forehead and lace themselves into his hair is prayer, joy-injected worship with both arms outstretched. His muffled groans are the striking chords of the echoing organ, bouncing off the walls and ringing in your ears. He could gorge himself on your taste, gobble up your grip on his hair and binge your moans until he was a stumbling drunk.

He starts off slow. Meek. It's the quiet click of soft kisses on the plush of your thighs, gentle hums as he travels lower and lower. It's not enough to just have his wandering hands rub around your legs. It's not enough to just suck splotches of wet bruises on your thighs.

This is my body, this is my blood. He wants more.

The buck of your hips is the air that snakes from his nostrils into his wavering lungs. The quiver of your legs is the blood beating from his jackhammering heart. The taste of your slick on his lips is the ground he gets down on both knees to kiss and worship. He cannot help the snarling beast he morphs into when he swipes over your throbbing clit and hears you whine, feels you jerk. He cannot control the claws that sink into your flesh when he swallows your juices and instantly needs more. More of your taste, more of your whimpers, more of your hips grinding into his mouth, more of you and you whole.

And nothing feels more glitteringly euphoric, more sparklingly fulfilling, more shiningly enough than watching you crumble for him. Because of him. He needs you bangingly louder, blindingly brighter, more, more, more, and when you unleash that final sharp cry, he knows he's done good.

Good. What a strange concept, to do good. Nothing he's ever done has ever really felt good. It has only ever been stinking rot, moldy decay, maggot-chewed blight. But how could he not glimmer with pride when his hands are gripping your hips so tightly? How could anything from the blackened, corroded past matter when you're staring down at him with those eyes, clouded over and glossy with satisfaction? He feels accomplished. He feels full.

His cheeks burn a flaming carnation pink as your thumb swipes across his chin.

"Good puppy."

He feels safe when he's in your arms afterwards, one warm hand stroking his hair and the other petting the curve of his waist. It's difficult to calm himself, to still his beating heart, but he can breathe easy when he's in your glistering bubble of love. He can see clearly when your warm kisses coat his cheeks. You're his fluffy scoop of cloudy comfort. His refuge, his worship, his answered prayer.

His heaven.

[howthesleeplesswander]

(from tidaltow! ovo <3)

“Okay, okay— Lay off for a second; hold on.”

Out of breath, Percy staggered back a few paces, his free hand lifted in surrender. He was sloppy. He knew he was sloppy, and he didn’t need Kazuma to chastise him for that—much less keep pressing him with one stroke after another across the entirety of the arena. The training dummy he’d ended up nearly tripping over somehow managed to look smug without an actual face. Percy bumped off its helmet with the hilt of his sword as a show of who was boss here.

—given that he wasn’t accomplishing too much else at the moment.

He looked back at Kazuma, and he was pretty sure his shoulders slumped from more than just exhaustion. “Look, I’m trying”—so Kazuma hadn’t uttered a word, but Percy had seen his expression and felt he better jump to his own defense ahead of time—“but I guess everything’s on vacation today—I dunno. Can we take five or something?” Percy tossed Riptide from his left hand back to his right. That felt better. That felt… yeah, right.

But, sure, okay: learning to fight with his nondominant hand was important. He’d give Kazuma that. Didn’t make it any less annoying.

Answered! || @tidaltow

((AHHH tysm for starting us off with this lovely ask, my dear! ;u; 💕 We immediately love Percy so much asfkldfs BUNDLES HIM UP AND RUFFLES HIS HAIR TTOTT))

When Kazuma pushed his pupils, it was intentional. Most kids at Camp Half-Blood were painfully young—but one of the first lessons that every demigod learned was that age didn't matter. Not to destiny. Not to gods or monsters (though at times he questioned if there was a difference, truth be told).

Someone had to prepare them. That was the sole reason why he still returned to camp even in adulthood: he had no loyalty to the gods, but if he could help the other children they mistreated and discarded, he felt it was his duty to do so.

It was more Percy's tone than the words themselves that led Kazuma to take heed. Relaxing from his stance, he too tossed his sword back to his right hand and lowered the point to the ground. After so many hours spent training together, on top of becoming friends outside the arena, he didn't just notice the dejection weighing his young pupil's voice and shoulders—he knew how unusual it was for a boy so full of fight.

Kazuma's expression softened. He sheathed Karuma with an effortless flourish. "Very well; a short break, then." They'd been at it for nearly an hour now. A brief respite was deserved—especially in favor of focusing on something much more important. A few quick strides brought him to the edge of the arena and back again. One hand offered Percy a bottle of water while the other rested on his shoulder.

"You know, this exercise is supposed to be difficult. Even with your skill, it'd be a shock if this were easy for you." He fell quiet as he studied his pupil. "Or is there something else that's bothering you?"

[captainnameless]

Hi! I'm pretty new to your stories but I adore them so much and I've already re read most of them like ten times! One of my favourite stories is the one you've written about Lando and Jon and I absolutely find it adorable! Do you have any other snippets or ideas with the two of them? 🤔

hiya <3 aw tysm, i appreciate it. 🫶🏻

i’ll give you a lil something:

It’s always a bit of a challenge getting back into a schedule after the holidays. Pre-season is around the corner and Jon has scheduled some lighter workouts to get back into it. Today they’re working necks again though, and those are never easy.

“One more, each side.” Jon says, taking pity on the younger. He can see the strain even in Lando’s shoulders and the tiredness that has taken over his face.

“No, no more.” The whiney reply follows Lando clawing at the harness he’s wearing.

Jon hushes him. “One more big boy, come on. You got it.” His hand grabs Lando’s to gently lower them. “One more. Just close your eyes.”

The puppy eyes he’s met with nearly tip him over but he gives Lando a look and with a loud whine the younger gives him the final set.

When they’re done Lando makes a show out of getting the set off, flopping out of the seat dramatically down onto the floor, hand balled up into little fists that rub at his eyes. “Tired.”

It takes Jon very little deduction skills to realize what kind of Lando he’s dealing with now. So when as he finishes putting their stuff away he’s a bit more gentle when he speaks. “I know Bub, if you take a quick shower you can have a lie-down.”

“No, I’mma take a nap right here.” Lando curls in on himself as if to strengthen his statement, thumb brought up and into his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut so tight lines appear on his face.

Jon fails to suppress a sigh and tries not to think too much about Lando sucking his unwashed thumb, but threads carefully. Lando admitting or voluntarily agreeing to a nap is rare, but that doesn’t mean Jon’s gonna allow him to sleep on the floor of the spare room they’ve been using to work out in in Lando’s apartment. He’s not entirely sure when it’s last been cleaned.

“Lando.” He hums, crouching down next to the younger and brushing a hand through the brown mop. “You’ll feel so nice if you take a shower first, and then you can lie down somewhere soft.”

A snore.

A loud and obnoxious and obviously fake snore.

Lando’s got his eyes squeezed shut still, but Jon still bites back the laugh that wants to escape, forcing himself to keep a straight face.

“And you pick out a nice hoodie, hmm? Maybe one of Daniel’s new ones? He’s a got a cool new rodeo one right?”

Another snore.

God damnit, Jon thinks, shifting because the way he’s been crouched down makes his legs hurt. “I can make you a banana pancake when you wake up?”

More obnoxious snoring.

He rubs his hands over his face. It’s too late in the day to call Daniel, something Lando’s been asking for a lot ever since the season ended and the elder spending some time in Australia. It’s been very hard explaining a sometimes incredibly upset Lando that it’s 3am on the other side of the world and that’s why Daniel isn’t picking up. Maybe he could bribe the younger with Carlos before-

“What if we call Max to read to you?”

The snoring stops and one of Lando’s eyes peep open. “Max?” He questions, thumb falling out of his mouth and already sitting up.

Bingo.

“Only if you take a shower.”

-

Fifteen minutes later Lando’s showered and in one of Daniel’s new hoodies wrapped up on the couch before Jon presses ‘Max Fewtrell’ in his contacts and hands Lando the phone.

It’s endearing watching Lando’s face light up when the call gets answered, and the other Brit gets an earful about the ouchie workout first before Lando eventually settles against the pillows of the couch and requests a story.

Max reads until well after Lando’s eyes have closed, just to be sure.

[its-deputy-caleb]

haiiiiiiiiiiiiii can we get a john x fem reader wherein the reader is the doctor and a friend of the macfarlanes and they patch him up after getting shot by bill LOL (rdr1!! i’m not sure if you’ve played that but if you havent it’s ok to ignore this tysm :3)

WOAHH this is long overdue but I haven’t played the first (don’t kill me) so I decided to watch a 10hr play through— I’m yet to finish it cause its long and I’m watching it in short segments but I think I could tackle this. I really hope this doesn’t flop bc idk what I’m doing lmao.

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

It’s just a regular afternoon when Bonnie returns back to the ranch, you’re cleaning some of the medical cabinets, making lists of what needs to be topped up when you next take a trip to town or the Ranch’s general store. It’s light work for an easy afternoon but that all change pretty quickly when Bonnie came storming through the door, asking you for help on a man who’d been shot and needed urgent medical attention.

The list of medicines is dropped to the floor as she shows you to one of the units where he was currently laid out in the bed. You sat down, clearing his shirt and jacket to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. You were well focused on your work, stitching up the wound with practiced ease and addressing his other minor injuries like the small cut to the back of his head from hitting the ground and the bruising to his ribs from the bullet wound. Unbeknown to you, Bonnie has taken a stand behind your shoulder to watch you work.

“Damn fool thought he could take out Bill Williamson.”

“Bill Williamson?”

You could only stare down in surprise at the unconscious man before you. A man like Bill Williamson was not to be reckoned with, especially in a shootout if the evidence before you is anything to go by.

It took a few more hours of care but Bonnie stayed with you to make light of the situation and keep you company, only coming and going to bring back any supplies you needed. Once you’d properly bandaged his abdomen you stood from the shabby wooden stool you were sitting on and dusted your hands. You collected your tools into your bag and placed a soft hand to Bonnie’s shoulder.

“He should be fine now. He’s going to need lots of rest while his wound heals and he’ll probably be disoriented and dehydrated when he wakes but nothing more, you’ll find me if his condition worsens?”

Bonnie gave you a short nod in agreement, happy to stay with him for a few hours while you went and got some rest.

-

John woke with a splitting headache and a burning pain in his side. The events of the last few days coming back to him. He didn’t get time to think about it much however, when a golden haired woman came through the door, instantly giving him a light hearted lecture about chasing after Bill Williamson and getting shot at.

“Well while you may have done something stupid— we got to you in time and the Doc fixed you up real fine, got the bullets removed a few days ago. You’re a lucky man Mr…err?”

John made his way to the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning at the pain that is usual for a bullet wound.

“Mr. Marston— John Marston and I suppose I should be thankin’ him for fixing me up.”

The woman leaned against the handle of the door, watching him shuffle on his feet awkwardly as she smirked at him.

“Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss, Bonnie MacFarlane and I hope you do thank her. She did a real fine job of takin’ care of you. She spends her mornings up on the hill by one of the large oak trees by the paddock, I suggest you pay her a visit before you start working off your medical bills.”

And with that, John picked up his hat from the wooden table that Bonnie had saved for him and started making his way over to you.

-

You were standing over by one of the smaller sheep paddocks off to the side of the MacFarlane Ranch and took in a deep breath, basking in the morning sun and leaning your elbows against the fence. You usually took the mornings to yourself, having half an hour to wake up slowly and enjoy yourself before you tented to a range of injuries and illnesses. Having been longtime friends to Bonnie and her father, your family had always been respected at the ranch and that came with certain privileges such as time off work in the morning.

Your peaceful moment was distributed, but not unpleasantly as you noticed the man who Bonnie bought in yesterday walking towards you. When he reached a certain distance his hat came off and held it in his hands, flattening his stringy hair as he addressed you.

“Pardon me ma’am, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Miss MacFarlane said you were the one needed thanking for taking care o’ me— so thank you.”

You noticed how he fiddled with the brim of his hat in his hands, trying not to look what you’d guess was embarrassed.

After you two introduced each other and you accepted John’s thanks, you offered for him to come and stand beside you by the fence.

“So who does a man have to be to go after an outlaw and bandit such as Bill Williamson?”

Your question was supposed to be lighthearted and fun, ready to tease him just as Bonnie had done for waltzing into Fort Mercer alone. You didn’t expect for John to answer you honestly

“An old friend…”

You stared at him in shock but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared out into the paddock of grazing sheep.

“Wait you know Bill Williamson?”

He could only nod for a moment, giving you a polite but almost sad smile at what seemed like a painful memory.

“Yes ma’am. There was a time when Bill and I weren’t so different.”

-

You actually spent a lot longer than you’d anticipated talking to John. For some reason unknown to you, John seemed to open up a fair bit. Maybe it all came down to the fact that you were approachable and kind, a quality you needed as the ranches doctor. Nevertheless he spent hours telling you about some of his time with the old ‘Van Der Linde Gang’. John spoke of train robberies and homesteads, what it was like to steal from folk and live wildly. He even mentioned gang rivalries and the epic tale of surviving a wolf attack.

He told you of some of the best times and even the worst but all of them were distance memories and he seemed quick to change the topic about why exactly he wanted to ‘reunite’ with Bill.

“What about you, Miss? How’d you end up here? Don’t see many female doctors around— w-with no offence intended ma’am.”

You let out a small laugh, hearing his curiosity turn to something desperate as he realised he may have been offensive. You kept your weight on one elbow, facing towards him and smiled.

“Well my daddy is the head doctor but he’s now semi retired. He’s a good man but he wasn’t always a doctor. A long time ago, when I was just a little girl our family were ranch handlers just like Bonnie’s family, but well… one season all the cattle got sick and were dying so my father moved to medicine. The MacFarlane’s are old friends and we’ve been with them ever since.”

John hummed, turning his gaze from you to stare at the vast Ranch that was almost a village in his eyes.

“Seem like good people— real decent folk.”

You nodded in response, growing up on this ranch became your home and you loved the MacFarlane’s very deeply.

“Indeed they are Mr.Marston, decent folk are hard to come by these days.”

Your pleasant conversation with John was suddenly interrupted by Bonnie who whistled down by the stables, clearly signalling for John to come and assist her with chores around the ranch. You could only hope that meant seeing more of John.

“It seems Miss MacFarlane will be needing my help. Thank you again ma’am, you saved my life.”

You didn’t get to say much as John took your hand in his, brining it to his mouth in a polite kiss to your knuckle before walking down the hill. He didn’t get far before you stopped him one last time.

“Oh Mr. Marston! I need to ride into town tomorrow to restock on medicines that they don’t stock at the general store. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

You eyes were full of hope and joy as he nodded and gave you a warm smile.

“It’s John, and I could think of nothing better than to help you ma’am”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto your face as you watched John load his horse and ride of with Bonnie and a few others to work at various places around the ranch. You couldn’t stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach either at the anticipation and excitement of getting to see the mysterious but intriguing man John Marston.

(I will do a part 2 since i need more time to get a feel for rdr1!!)

[from-seas-to-skies]

hewwo! i'm back with another request! may i please have hc's of Aizawa being just super in love with his wife and them basically co-parenting class 1-A?

Aizawa with his wife being parents to Class 1A / ఌ︎

oohhh good choice and sorry for taking too long of a time and simping Aizawa isn’t so prominent here! btw that greeting is so cute- tysm for the request!

warning : quite long HC because God forbid me make it shorter ;-; I curse thee, my overworking brain

Naps. Ofc you nap with him everyday. It's a tradition, it's a must, it is daily.

because your husband is an underground hero, he often do his work in the night, so you had to spend awfully long time alone during nights. But sometimes he comes home early and the both of you have dinner and cuddle immediately on the sofa.

And of course it always ends with the both of you sleeping on it, arms wrapping around each other. Everyday is really precious.

Almost every morning you would wake up on an empty bed. Your husband always woke up earlier than you and left for the school while bringing some bread / pre-made breakfast you made in advance and juice or milk.

But on rare days, you would find him still sleeping next to you in your bed. You know it's him who moved you into the bed for better sleep. On days like these, you’d kill someone that dared to interrupt.

For example, Mic. He had once barged in on you and you literally had to chase him out. Your husband instead just sleeps again, he knows you can handle his loud friend.

You often help Shota in grading the students and managing them, so almost all of his students' names you memorized.

All of your dates are just lounging on the sofa, cuddling each other with some drinks and blankets. Neither of you care about going out, more like he’ll be so drained he can’t and you don't want to force him so you stayed too since you also enjoy it.

Sometimes you bring some lunch for him at school. Not bring, but you asked Hizashi to deliver it to him because UA have a tight security system. But when festivals were held, you came to your meeting spot and gave him some lunch. 

Without these festivals, his students won't be able to properly meet you. But eh, you already met them, way, way earlier.

Your quirk lets you manipulate and possess small animals. You are able to see and hear what is happening while being conscious and doing things in your body. You originally trained your quirk so that you can be aware of the things that surround you and keep an eye on your husband whenever he is doing his work, like for example the USJ accident. You were in such a bad panicking state, you had a hard time calming yourself and by the time you called Hizashi, Iida had barely escaped the USJ.

When Izuku and the others are trying to rescue Bakugou, you accidentally see them entering and leaving a store with disguises. Completely sus, you use your quirk and spy on them.

But enough of that, in every time you can, you always spy on the kids.

Hey, you’re a bored housewife, a girl gotta have her fun, right?

The teens first met you at the school festival while they were preparing their concert.

you were just walking in the school, searching for your husband in the huge building, while class 1-A students are all practicing and preparing the stage. Your phone is dead so you can't contact Shota, and you think it would be boring if you just use your quirk, so you decided to check the whole building. At one point, you reached the place when they were performing their routine and clapped at the end.

At first, everyone is just a little bit shocked on why you are there as it’s a secluded place, but then you introduce yourself.

The class is in  c h a o s

The eager ones immediately crowded around you, swallowing you in their enthusiasm and questions while the mature ones tried their best in calming the others.

“Whoa, Mr. Aizawa is married? Our(italics) Mr. Aizawa is married?!?!”

“I never knew our teacher would have a spouse! Say, Mrs., since when did  you marry our teacher?”

“Guys, calm down, Mrs. Aizawa is overwhelmed!”

Seeing those students being curious and hyping you up really add up to your ego, not to mention there’s some sweethearts there too, so you like them so much despite just meeting them.

Man, you’re so easy.

“Mrs. Aizawa, quick question, is Mr. Aizawa good in bed?” 

Oh my god, AHAHAH-

Before any of the other student can reprimand Mineta, you decided to be a public nuisance so you went along with it and nodded jokingly while pretending to think it through,“Mhmmm, good question, he is particularly-”

Although before you can answer completely, a cloth is wrapped around your mouth, halting your words. Your hubby have entered the chat.

At the end, your husband completely ruined your fun with the students.

Boomer.

[my-robot-heart]

Okay, firstly, good luck with your procedure tomorrow!! ❤️ Secondly, "i heard you crying" for the misc. angst starters please?? 🥺 And lastly... am I the only one lowkey hoping for all these incredible, life-sustaining prompt fills to be posted on AO3?? 👀

Coda tysm friend! If anyone knows a quick and easy way to copy from tumblr I shall post over on ao3 💛

This one is good, it's angsty but also gentle. My fave style. Hmm let's see... ah yes one of my top fave gifs also.

"...Lizzie?" She heard his voice through the adjoining door of their hotel room.

Lizzie sat up, suddenly aware that she must have woken Red up when she started crying. Damn it. She quickly brushed some tears from her cheeks.

"I'm fine. It's nothing. Go back to sleep," she whispered furiously.

There was a pause, but she didn't hear him walk away from the door.

"Red?"

"Lizzie, I... heard you crying. Are you... is there something I can do?"

"No. I said I'm fine," she repeated. "Please go back to sleep."

"... Alright," he said at last, and she heard him this time walking back into his room.

She waited until it sounded like he'd gotten into bed and then turned her face into her pillow. God. She couldn't even cry in private.

And if he knew what she was crying about... that was even more embarrassing. He probably thought it was because she was nervous about their operation. That she was worried she might get hurt or something. But really-

She sighed. Really, she was crying because she knew their time together like this was coming to an end. Once they got her new identity and she was settled in place, she probably wouldn't see him again. And that- that was breaking her damn heart.

It hadn't taken very long since they'd gone on the run for her to realize how she felt. It was quite obvious, really. She was surprised she hadn't realized sooner. Every brush of their fingers, every gentle squeeze of her hand made her insides twist and her heart yell loudly it's you.

And when she'd run across the street into his car, scared out of her mind and just so, so elated to see him- he'd taken her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek, and-

She was done for. Completely head over heels. And she hadn't said anything, so now they were stuck with carrying out this absolutely awful plan in which she undertook a new identity and never saw him again.

She blew her nose loudly, before remembering Red was probably still listening. He was probably still awake.

That thought made her pause.

He was probably still awake. Could she? Well, it was now or never, she decided; there was nothing really to lose apart from her dignity.

Quickly getting out of bed, she splashed some cool water on her face and fluffed out her hair. She gazed at her face in the mirror. It wasn't great. But then again, he'd seen her looking much worse.

She hesitated before the adjoining door, and then with a quick knock and not waiting for an answer, she walked in.

He wasn't asleep. He wasn't even in bed. He was, however, not wearing a shirt. Lizzie swallowed.

He had looked up from where he sat by the window when she'd come in, and now she was standing at the door not knowing exactly what she'd been thinking. Great job, Liz, she thought. This was not awkward at all.

But, thankfully, after his initial surprise, Red gestured for her to join him, pouring her a glass of whatever strong looking liquid he'd been drinking.

She accepted it gratefully, allowing her first sip to burn her throat and perhaps awaken some sort of inner courage she wasn't aware of.

"Sorry to barge in like that," she began, but he waved the apology away. She wished he'd been wearing a shirt, if only to give her eyes something to rest on other than... his bare chest. She tried to focus.

"You... did hear me crying," she began. "But it's not what you think."

"What do I think?" He asked, gently.

"You think- you think that I'm scared. Of something happening. But I'm not scared. Well, I am but- not of that."

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt.

She shifted awkwardly in her chair.

"I'm... oh god, why is this so hard?- I'm scared of... of leaving you, Red. Of what it will be like if I never see you again. I can't imagine it- I don't want to imagine it." Here she cast a pleading glance at him, willing him to understand her.

He set his glass down on the table. She wondered if he was going to laugh, or cry. She wondered which she was going to do.

He did neither. Instead, he reached across and took both of her hands in his. She felt her breath catch in her throat. Meeting her gaze calmly with his own, he said, "Well then, Lizzie. Don't imagine it. We will just have to think of a new plan."

She didn't at first understand. Was... Was he saying...?

Seeing her confused reaction, Red leaned forward until their faces were almost touching.

"You don't have to leave me, Lizzie," he added, placing a gentle kiss on the very corner of her mouth. "You don't ever have to leave."

[lynnsfics]

Feisty

Pairing: Racetrack Higgins x Reader

Request: “race or spot x feisty reader/oc + prompt #84 (sarcasm) from list 2 could be really fun! if it's not a bother, tysm 🖤”

Prompt: “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!”

Word Count: Approx. 1.7k

~~~

“Wait up,” Race called as you ran down the steps of the newsies boarding house. Although you felt bad, you didn’t stop. You had barely had time to get dressed before you heard the morning bell. The papes were already being sold and you had just left the house. Race being late was his own problem, not yours. 

As you finally reached the distribution center for the papers you sighed with relief. Fortunately for you, they hadn’t completely sold out. However, that meant the headline wasn’t an easy seller, so you’d be in for a long day. Race caught up with you at the selling window. 

“Hey, why didn’t’ya wait up?” he asked. 

“Because it’d be great if we were both late,” you said, rolling your eyes.

He looked confused for a moment and then sighed with exasperation. “Oh, youse is bein’ sarcastic again. You know I hate when you do that.”

“Sorry Race,” you laughed. “But you know I can’t be late. ‘M already almost behind on my payments for the lodging.” 

Race nodded in understanding. It was the same story for a lot of newsies, not being able to scrape together the money for lodging and then being out on the streets. “Why don’t we’s sell together today? I already has enough for my rent this month, so you can take some of my extra papes.” 

You didn’t want to accept help from anybody, least of all Race. Part of you was worried he would resent you if you held him back, and for some reason that terrified you. “Are ya’ sure? I’ll be fine on my own as always, really.”

He shook his head, “Just because youse is ‘fine’ doesn’t mean that you should have to be all alone.” 

Looking down, you nodded in appreciation. “Thank you, Race.” You prayed to whoever was listening that he didn’t notice the blush spreading across your cheeks. “We’d best buy some papes and start selling then, huh?”

You handed your money to Weasel, who was standing at the window counting the day’s profit. “I’ll take 50 papes, as usual.” 

“Are you sure you can sell that many?” Oscar Delancey taunted. “It’s not a great headline, and you ain’t exactly the top seller anyways.”

Race shot him a glare but you already had a scathing response prepared.  “Oscar, I know it’s difficult for youse to understand, but sales ain’t based wholly on the headline. Stunning good looks also factor in, which must explain why you and your brother never made it as newsies.”

“You’d better watch it,” Oscar threatened, balling his hand into a fist. He narrowed his eyes and you could tell he was getting irritated. 

As soon as Race bought his papers you were off. Although you weren’t opposed to punching a Delancey, you would hate to get all mussed up. After all, you had to at least look a little bit respectable, that way you could sell in the wealthier areas without attracting any trouble. 

You turned to Race with a grin, “So, where to first?”

He shook his head, “Youse is gonna get in trouble for talking back one of these days, you’re too feisty for your own good. But I found a great selling spot in upper Manhattan. People there give great tips too.” 

“Perfect,” you said with a light laugh. “And I thinks I can take care of myself, thank you very much. Those Delanceys won’t even know what hit ‘em.”

Race simply rolled his eyes in response. “I certainly hope so,” he laughed. “Let’s head out before everyone in this city already has a pape.”

It was a fairly quick walk, but the brisk morning air made it seem longer than it was. Race looked over at you, noting that you had been strangely silent for most of the trip. When he saw you silently shivering he smiled to himself. Of course you were too proud to even mention it. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. He already knew what your answer would be, but he decided to ask anyway. At least then it would seem like he hadn’t already made up his mind on what he was about to do.

Just like he predicted, you answered with a simple, “Yes, why?” However a visible shiver passed over you as you answered, giving away your lie.

“Because you seem cold,” he said, trying his best to sound exasperated and not concerned. He knew if he seemed worried you’d refuse his offer, not wanting to seem weak. “Here, take my coat, I don’t need it.”

“Race, no,” you shook your head. “You do need it.”

“Not as much as you do,” he countered. Despite your protests he shrugged off his jacket and placed it around your shoulders. “Don’t even try to give it back ‘til we’s done selling.”

You sighed and nodded, “Fine.” To be honest, it really helped against the chill. Although you knew Race didn’t need it as much, it still pained you to take it from him. There was no way he would take it back, though. He could be as stubborn as you when he wanted to be. 

When you finally reached the neighborhood you breathed a sigh of relief. There were no other newsies in sight, which meant you were probably the first ones there. Or, you thought, the others had already sold everyone a paper and you wouldn’t make any sales. Hopefully it wasn’t the latter. 

Once you began calling out headlines, both real and slightly made-up, you realized your initial impression was correct. Your papers sold fairly quickly and you received a few nice tips too. The whole time you weren’t selling you spent talking to Race about anything and everything. 

Before you knew it the day was winding to a close and you had sold all your papes. Night was falling quickly and you had to hurry back to the lodging house. There was hardly any light on the streets and you became turned around. 

As you tried to navigate on the darkened street you realized you had become separated from Race. You called out to him, “Race? Where are you?” Someone grabbed your hand and you jumped. Your heartbeat calmed, however, when you saw it was just him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you scolded, “I could’ve had a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I was jus’ worried ‘cause it’s easy to get lost here. Since I know the way I thought this’d be a safer way of heading back.” He motioned to his hand, still linked with yours. You nodded silently, thankful he wouldn’t notice your blush in the dark. 

The trip back to the lodging house seemed to drag on for eternity as your heart raced in your chest. While you had always considered Race a friend, you had secretly wondered if there was any chance of something more. After the day’s events you realized how much you wanted the chance to be real. 

When you finally returned to the lodging house you quickly said goodnight to Race before rushing to your room. On the way, however, you were stopped by Jack, who was looking at you confusedly. 

“Are you wearing Racetrack’s jacket?” he asked you. 

Shit. You had entirely forgotten to give it back in your haste to get to your room. “Oh, yeah, he lent it to me for sellin’ today. It was chilly so…” you trailed off, praying Jack wouldn’t ask anymore questions. While he had always been like an older brother to you that also meant he teased you like an older brother would. Which, unfortunately, included joking with you when he thought you liked someone.

Somehow Jack had figured out that you had a tiny crush on Race and was determined to set you two up, and tonight was no exception. “Well I didn’t know youse was sellin’ together,” he said with a smirk. 

You answered quickly, “It was just for today, no big deal.” 

“Well, if youse ever does get together don’t say I didn’t call it.”

Rolling your eyes, you began to grow defensive, “I can’t date him! He hates sarcasm! That’s like my second language!” Even as you said it you knew it was a bad excuse. 

Jack chuckled lightly, “Sounds like something someone makin’ up excuses would say.” Damn it, he knew you too well. “Maybe you should go give him his jacket back and, I dunno, talk to him a bit.”

He was right as always. There was no way you could keep living like this, you had to confront how you felt, which meant confessing to Race. “I think I will,” you said softly. “G’night Kelly.” 

You slowly made your way to the front of the lodging house. Somehow you knew Race hadn’t gone to bed yet. When you stepped out into the cold night air, you knew you were right. The faint smell of cigar smoke wafted up the steps from where Race was sitting. 

“Hey Race,” you said quietly. “I realized I never gave you your coat back and,” you shrugged, holding it out to him. 

He took it silently and you sat down next to him. “Thank you, by the way. For helping me sell my papes today, and for lending me your jacket and, everything, really.”

Race smiled, “Of course. It was nice having someone to sell with.” You could tell something was on his mind, he seemed distant. 

“I’m glad you came out here,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Lately I’ve been thinking, and well,” he paused before continuing, “what if we went out sometime? If you don’t want to that’s fine,” he said quickly, “but I was thinking we could go on a date or something.”

Before you could second-guess yourself you leaned and pressed your lips to his. Your heart was pounding in your chest and after a split-second he returned the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft, and unsurprisingly, the kiss tasted of cigar smoke and something sweet that you couldn’t quite place. When you finally pulled away you were breathless.

He grinned, putting an arm around your waist, “So, is that a yes?”

You laughed as you rested your head on his shoulder, “It’s a yes.”

~~~

Requested By: anon

Why do my newsies fics always end up longer than I originally plan? Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist and as always likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

[v-hope]

»epilogue - yes

»hobi’s girl

»jung hoseok x army!reader

after attending a bts concert and very clearly catching one of the members’ attention, you can’t help but get flooded with hate comments once people find your twitter account. who would’ve thought that would be the reason jung hoseok would find his concert girl, too.

a/n: so that’s it! tysm to all of you who read this au, ilysm 🥺 in case it wasn’t obvious, this was like a smol view over the years for these two and their relationship. AND i know the texts bit doesn’t make much sense and that’s why i wrote what was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being a 2k story lsñsksj. i might upload it later in a one shot format since it’s as long as one of those and i want to have it organized in my masterlist lol. anyway, not so smol drabble right under the cut 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

Not being able to hold back the quite prominent pout that had been threatening with forming in your lips all morning anymore, you followed your boyfriend hot on his heels, almost like a lost puppy, as he carried his bags all the way over from your shared bedroom to the living room and placed them on the sofa ever so carefully, not wanting to wake up your sound asleep kitten that was on the other end of it.

Giving you a side smile, one that did not really get to reach his eyes, for leaving you had never been an easy thing to do, he took a step towards you and gently cupped your face, planting a tender kiss to your forehead before he resumed on checking if he had indeed got everything he would need during tour.

Or well, at least he tried to, for you were quick to catch his attention, this time deliberately, since there was one particular thought in your head ever since last night —having to do with a certain comment of his on his Instagram account he had posted in reply to Taehyung’s very upfront ‘when’s the human baby coming’ question— that you could just not let go of for the sake of it. If anything, you knew that you needed to ask right now, before he left, or you would just have to suck it up and wait another six months to be able to do so.

“Hey, um…” you mumbled almost inaudibly, gently tugging at his sleeve and then for some reason feeling ever so little under his intrigued stare. “I know you’re kind of in a rush right now...” you smiled weakly, knowing you had little under fifteen minutes before he had to leave for half a year. “But, I, um... last night…”

“Tell me” he urged rather worriedly after seeing you were not able to finish your sentence.

“What you said last night… when you answered to Tae’s comment, you know… about getting engaged after tour...” you felt his body tense at your unexpected confrontation. “Is it true?”

Although suddenly nervous at the bit of information he had thought you would ignore since you hadn’t brought it up right when it happened, he smiled sweetly, taking a step towards you as he intertwined your fingers. “You know I’ve always wanted to marry you”.

“But now?” your words caused his heart to skip a beat. “I mean, the way you said it… I know you said after tour, but if you’re already thinking about it now…”

The small laugh that escaped his lips caught you by surprise, not really knowing what it meant. Tilting his head back for a second, he then let it fall on one of your shoulders — his hands letting go of yours to place them on your waist instead.

“Ah, don’t do this”.

“Do what?” your puzzled tone earned another laugh from him, one that came out more like a small huff. “Seok-ie…”

But he just shook his head, suddenly not knowing what to say. More like, not knowing if he should say what he wanted to right then at all..

“Baby…” you were the one to urge this time, gently tugging at the fabric of his hoodie.

And so, taking a deep breath, he decided to just go for it.

“I already have the ring” he confessed.

Not believing your ears, you pulled slightly away from him so you could search in his face for any kind of mean joke being displayed on it, only to be met by his sincere yet troubled eyes.

“And you’re making it really hard for me not to just go get it right now” he added.

You bit your bottom lip, having to lower your head for a brief moment as you tried to collect yourself before your now adoring eyes were back on his.

“I would say yes, you know?” you spoke softly. “If you asked me now…”

He let out a shaky breath, letting his forehead rest on yours. “Right before I go on tour?”

“Is that why you hadn’t asked me?” you wondered.

He nodded. “I mean, asking you to marry me only to leave you for half a year right after?” his lips turned into a sad pout, having you reach for his hands once again and give them a gentle squeeze. “Besides, my schedule was really tight these past couple of months and I didn’t get to prepare anything special t—”

His words were cut off by your lips softly pressing on his. Just like that, although only for a second, making him feel at ease.

“You really don’t have to prepare anything special, love” you smiled sweetly. “I’m not talking you into asking me now if that’s not what you want, but just know I would say yes no matter where or when you asked me”.

Your heart jumped at the sight of his lips curving slightly up at your honest words, feeling him be the one to give your hands a gentle squeeze this time.

“You wouldn’t hate me for asking you right before I leave?” he genuinely questioned, wanting to be a hundred percent sure about what you wanted before he did anything else. You shook your head no. “Even when I have nothing special prepared?”

“Come on,” you tilted your head to the side. “You really think I would ever hate my favourite person in the world?”

Always loving being called that by you, he chuckled under his breath, pressing a brief kiss to your mouth before his eyes went to the watch on his wrist and a bright smile parted his lips at the realisation of it still being a couple more minutes until the company picked him up to head towards the airport.

So, holding your hand in his, he pulled you towards your bedroom with him, letting go of you right as you crossed the door so he could go to the closet and rummage through his side of it for a couple of seconds while he looked for something. And then, when he turned around holding a small velvet box, you felt your heart skip a beat.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I already had the ring” he let you know with a breathy voice at the sight of your astonished eyes, causing a light laugh to escape your mouth. “I guess I should get down on one knee now, huh?”

Letting out another breathy laugh, you nodded your head, feeling your body hopelessly tremble as you could not hold in the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling at the sight of him kneeling down in front of you, later opening the delicate box in his hands to let you see the beautiful ring he had ever so thoroughly chosen for you.

“Okay, so… I don’t have a huge speech prepared for this right now, but…” you answered to his hesitation with a reassuring nod, letting him know it was alright, wanting him to go on. “I just… I knew since the beginning that I wanted to spend my life with you. I knew it way before our first anniversary, and now that we’ve been together for nearly five years and we’ve lived together for a little over one, I just know more than ever that I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I wouldn’t want anyone but you to wake up next to every morning, or anyone else but you to come home to, or even when we have our bad days and we argue over stupid things that at the moment seem so big,” a brittle laugh escaped both your mouths at the same time because of his comment. “There’s no one else I’d want to argue with. There’s no one else I’d want to raise our feline son with, or have our own human babies in the future”.

“You did not just call them human babies” you amusedly mocked him with a raised eyebrow.

“Shh, I’m proposing here” he playfully called you out, having you roll your eyes as you couldn’t conceal the smile already taking over your lips. “So, as I was saying. You truly are it for me, angel. I’ve said it a lot before and I’ll keep saying it as much as I can, but I love you so, so much, and there’s no one else I want to ever be with. So, if you’ll have me, will you marry me?”

Before he could even finish the question you had been anticipating, you had already been nodding your head with the brightest of smiles on your face, causing his heart-shaped one to make an appearance — only growing bigger when you confirmed: “Of course I’ll marry you, yes”.

Hoseok let out the air he didn’t know he had been holding, still being nervous as hell to ask such thing although you had made your answer pretty clear all along. And at that, you couldn’t help but giggle, watching the shaky hand of yours he was holding be adorned with the delicate ring he had just slid on your finger — planting a loving kiss to your knuckles before his eyes were back up on you.

You didn’t really have time to process what had just happened when he was back up on his feet, cupping your face to keep you in place as he rested his forehead on yours and his smiling lips brushed faintly over yours.

“I love you” he whispered those three words you could never grow tired of.

You smiled, placing your hands on his wrists and gently running your thumbs on his skin. “I love you, too”.

That was all it took for his mouth to be on yours, kissing you in such soft, tender way, it almost made it seem like he would break you if he kissed you any harder. However, when your hands travelled from his wrists to the back of his neck to wrap your arms around it, his hold on your face tightened, caressing the skin near the corners of your lips with his thumbs as he deepened the touch of his lips on yours.

He only ever let go of you a minute later, when the phone in his pocket started buzzing, bringing the two of you out of your own little world and back into the real one — one in which the car BigHit had sent for him and his members was already waiting for him outside, and one in which he had to leave your side for way longer than any of you would like to.

“How am I supposed to leave you now?” he mumbled, not being ready yet to fully let go of your touch, and just letting your heavy breathings mix instead as your lips remained faintly touching.

You smiled bittersweetly, cupping his face in your hands and planting another kiss to his pink lips. “Well, you know now more than ever that I’ll be here waiting for you”.

He laughed breathily, playfully pinching your sides. “I guess you really are stuck with me now, huh?”

“Technically,” you began, having him already rolling his eyes in anticipation before you could even make your point. “I am not until our wedding. But you know I would never leave you anyway, so you can take it as such”.

“I better marry you soon then” he smirked, managing to pull you even closer to him although there already wasn’t much space between your bodies.

“I would like that a lot, not gonna lie”.

Your nonchalant words that were followed by a shrug of your shoulders had him tilting his head back as a blissful laugh escaped his mouth — ignoring the phone buzzing once more in his pocket and going back to steal another kiss from you.

“We’re gonna celebrate properly when I get back, okay?” he said. “And we can start planning our wedding then”.

“Okay…” you smiled contently, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose before your eyes instinctively travelled down to his still buzzing mobile. “You should probably go now before they come here and literally drag your ass out”.

Hoseok laughed, reluctantly letting go of you and walking back over to the living room with you quietly following right after him, so he could grab his luggage and leave before they scolded him for taking too long.

“You think it’s too late to just shove you inside my luggage and bring you on tour with me?” he amusedly wondered as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

Shaking your head as you chuckled, you glanced over Huimang that was sleeping ever so carelessly next to another one of your fiancé’s bags. “I have a feline son to look after now, I can’t just leave him” you pouted.

“Right” he remembered, smiling softly when he stretched his hand to pet the fluffy cat of yours he had grown to love so much. “Forgot we’re responsible parents and all that now”.

tag list: @lets-keepit100 @aquietkerfuffle @hobicomeholla29 @sakura-uji @brinnalaine @thefickive @zxlla @dreamcatcherjiah @booklover240 @luneseok @randomkoalablog @seokssbagel @thestral-balerion @unadulteratedlyunique @pikapikaachuu @salty-for-suga @biaisezabini @extaevaganza @nerdycookiemonster-1222 @hanniiesuckle17 @btsxdoll @cvbachacbitch @dearest-sunshine @tirednation @shakes0peare @llovekoya @re-sugance @veonjun @yeontanie21 @notinmycomfortzone @slxtfortae @cherryjiminiee @creepysweet @hobi-love @betysotelo18 @zaryas @kpopgirlbtssvt @bubblegumcat229 @mygscafe @uxwi @lovelymultiwrites @rjsmochii @margaritafariasw @moccahobi @lidda @seoulgotmysoul @sunskook @jayhope88 @magicshop-myg @longlivebnc

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Burcyan (friendship, close bond)

Pairing : Din Djarin x reader

Warning : none but cuteness. 

Requested by @youreallystirmyfry​ : Hi! I saw that you’re doing Mandalorian requests. If you have time and you’d like to could you please write me something? A Mando x reader one shot where the reader has a really strong connection with baby Yoda bc they are force sensitive. Din doesn’t know, he just sees them being motherly and is slowly falling for the reader. In Chapter 4 when they are taking down the AT-ST Din is in the firing line and the reader steps in and absolutely decimates the AT-ST with the force and passes out from being exhausted. The reader wakes to find Din taking care off her and it’s just super fluffy. Tysm! 

Words : 1359

A/n : Here it goes! I hope it will fit your expectations! I’m sorry if you spot any odd sentences, English isn’t my native language. Enjoy your reading! 

Masterlist. // The Mandalorian Masterlist. 

Din was known among the Mandalorians for his quick wit. He understood things quickly, he could anticipate the slightest gestures, analyze the intentions of others in a very short time, but there was one thing that remained a mystery to him: what connected you to this little green womb rat. 

Not that he wasn't attached to that baby, after all he had done to keep him safe, it would be crazy to say otherwise, but you. There was something special about you. Something unusual between you and this little boy. 

Since he arrived in Sorgan, the child had set his heart on you. He wouldn't let you go and if Din was suspicious of you at first, he quickly understood that you only wanted to make his boy happy. 

And Din spent his time watching you play with the child. He would leave the window of the shed open and spend hours watching the boy play with you. This fascinated him, in fact.

You let the child play with your hair and then, you gently laughed at him when you understood what he was desperately trying to do: braid your hair. The child must have seen the little girls in the village do it and probably wanted to try it back because he thought it was fun. However, with his tiny hands and three small fingers, it was impossible for him to separate the strands of your hair and assemble them in the right order. When he finished, your hair was intertwined between two big strands and you already knew that untangling them was not going to be an easy task. 

Din admired your patience. He had imagined himself in your place, having to endure this capillary tragedy, and he had come to the conclusion that he would never have let the boy finish this disaster. He watched you grab the child and put him on your lap. You leaned over to his ear to whisper something to him and the boy started to smile as he wiggled his little legs, captivated by what you were telling him. 

One detail caught Din's attention. If you looked closer, you could see that the child had grabbed your hand, his little fingers had rolled up and were holding your finger tightly. He held on tight and you had tenderly closed your hand around his. 

Din didn't realize it, but he had just leaned against the window sill. He was so captivated by your exchange that he didn't hear Cara come in until she spoke. 

" Careful, the Beskar is melting." 

"What?"

Din turned to Cara. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised and a dancing smile on the corner of her lips. 

"I don't like it when you have that look." He said. 

"What look?"

"The one who says 'I just made a leap to the situation and I'm fine with that."

"It's just an observation." She said. 

"You're not a good observer." He said.

"You don't even know what is my observation."

"No need, your face is saying too much." he stated. 

She raised her hands as if she was surrendering and turned away. 

"We leave in 10 minutes, that's all I wanted to tell you. "she said on the doorstep. 

He had almost forgotten the mission. He took one last glance outside and suddenly thought he was going into cardiac arrest when you were no longer playing with the child outside. He almost jumped out of the window to look for you and the boy when he heard a shy "knock, knock" from your voice.

Din turned to the door to see you with the child hanging on your leg. A sigh of relief seized him and he came to you. 

"I have a small package for you." You say, with a smile on your face.

Din was having trouble taking his eyes off you and for some reason, his mouth no longer seemed to want to cooperate like the civilized being that Din was. The child walked up to him and you were about to leave, waving to him to say goodbye when Din finally decided to talk. 

"Thank you." 

"Good luck for tonight." You replied. 

You smiled at him before you left. Din watched you walk away before looking down at the child who started cooing gently. 

"No, she won't be your mother." He said annoyed. 

He knew it, it was a desperate attempt to convince himself otherwise. However, he could no longer take the time to think about it, a mission was waiting for him and he was determined to accomplish it.

                    —————————————————————

Din was known among the Mandalorians for his quick wit. And he didn't see that coming. He didn't see you coming. Everything had happened in a moment. The AT-ST, Din in his line of fire, and you. You had none of it. You couldn't let that evil thing kill Din. This machine, you had destroyed it, thanks to the Force, and piece by piece. This machine was nothing more than a can.

And Din didn't see that coming. However, everything suddenly became logical. The child who adopted you from day one, the bond that united you both. A little smile appeared on his lips. You were even more amazing than he already thought. 

You slept peacefully, using the Force had drained your resources. He had already seen it with the child. Din looked at you and admired every feature of your face. 

You saved his life. 

When you collapsed from exhaustion, he took care of you. He had made sure that you stayed warm and that you were in a calm place to recover your strength. He had trouble keeping the child away from you. He hadn't succeeded, by the way. 

The child had been lying next to you and had not moved since. Just like Din. He stayed by your bedside to make sure you had everything you needed and wait for you to wake up. 

Something about you was different. Apart from the Force, of course, something attracted Din more than he would have expected. You were important. He knew it now. But to what extent? He didn't know that. 

He was watching you when you woke up from your long sleep. He straightened up and looked at you.

"Are you okay? "He asked. 

You rubbed your eyes to get rid of the last signs of sleep before you looked at him, your head still numb.

"I think so, yes, I'm fine. "You said. 

Din didn't realize he was so worried. He felt his shoulders relax and without really thinking about it, he grabbed your hand from his gloved ones, holding it tightly. His head came to rest carefully on both of your hands, the cold beskar tickling your skin. He sighed to release the tension that had secretly accumulated throughout his body system, then he lifted his head up again to look at you. 

"You saved my life. "He said. "I don't know what I would have done... the kid would have been heartbroken if you hadn't woken up. "He corrected. 

Your eyes glanced down towards the child who was sleeping against you. A little smile appeared on your lips. 

"The main thing is that he's fine. " You answered. 

"Yes indeed. »

Soon, you both turned your eyes to the door when it opened, as Cara entered. Din had not let go of your hand, he wanted to keep it warm between his own and Din quickly spotted Cara's gaze as it wandered from your hands intertwined to your faces. A satisfied smile glued to her face as she watches this perfect picture.  

"Don't you dare..." Din began. 

"The ideal family, I knew it. " Cara observed. 

Din sighed deeply, distraught by Cara's words. Somehow he was not displeased with the thought, but he didn't feel the courage to take any first steps at the moment.

"I think... I think we can start by being friends. "You stammered and had all the trouble in the world holding your cheeks from blushing. 

Din turned to you and even if you couldn't see it, he was smiling.

“burcyan, that’s a great start.” He promised.

[robin-the-enby]

If you’re taking requests right now could you do a Sweeney Todd one shot or scenario where his s/o convinces him to give them a haircut? Tysm 🖤

A new haircut

Pairing: Sweeney Todd x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: murderous thoughts (I mean, what did you expect)

A/N: You have no idea how excited I am for this. I hope I did it right and that our dear barber isn’t too ooc. I refered to the reader as they/them (because of how the ask was frazed), if you want me to change it, just say so, I have no problems with that ^ ^

* * * * *

     It was a silent, cloudy morning in London. The sky was gray, gray like his razors. Sweeney sat on a chair which he put next to the window in his barbershop and polished his beloved helpers, the only reminder of who he used to be. He hated everything. The gray sky, the smoke, the rich and the poor, yet he couldn’t bring himself to hate his razors. Just like he couldn’t bring himself to hate Y/N.

    Sweeney held the razor he just finished polishing against the faint light coming into the room. Gray and glum like the sky above, yet so different. His metal companion shone like a star, a very dangerous one. Their smile shone too, he thought, but it was far from dangerous. Their smile was more...carefree and joyful, sometimes he wondered if they truly were that naïve or if they were lying to themselves, always so happy and bubbly.

    He could never bring himself to ask, seeing their smile was somewhat refreshing from all those indifferent faces he saw every day. That’s why he still kept them around he supposed. Surely there couldn’t be a different reason.

    So engrossed in his thoughts he was that he didn’t hear the familiar footsteps approaching his barbershop, only the sound of knocking, gentle and patient, broke his train of thought. Sweeney looked up from his work and rose to open the door to whoever was on the other side.

    Talk of the devil and he shall appear. Y/N stood outside his barbershop with a smile on their face. With a slight wave they greeted him “Good morning mr. Todd! Can I come in?”

    Sweeney nodded in response to their energetic greeting and stepped aside to let Y/N in. Closing the door he turned to look at them, awaiting the reason for their sudden visit.

    But Y/N was looking out of the window with their back turned to him “It’s a lovely day today, isn’t it?” they muttered absent mindedly, Sweeney had to step closer to hear them. Looking out of the window at the still gray sky from behind their shoulder, he answered truthfully “Not really.”

    His sudden closeness seemed to startle them and Y/N jumped a little. Trying to nervously laugh it off they shrugged “Well, I think yesterday’s rain cleared out the air quite nicely.”

    Sweeney didn’t reply to that, instead he stepped next to them and asked, not particularly fond of small talk “May I know the reason behind your sudden visit?” Y/N stepped back from the window “Well, I was on my way to the market, so I said hi to Nellie and I thought that if I’m already here, why not come and say hi to you as well. It surely must get lonely here.” they said with nonchalance that sounded way too forced.

    Y/N wasn’t one to lie, unlike most people he encountered, why would they lie now? With a deep frown on his face he closed the short distance between the two of them with only a few steps. Looking Y/N deep in the eyes he nothing but hissed “Don’t lie.”

    Worried, Y/N took a step back from him, their demeanor suddenly shy. They sighed and with apologetic eyes said “Forgive me. In my defense, it wasn’t a complete lie! I really was just saying hi to Nellie and...” they seemed to hesitate “I hear so much praise left and right from men who have been to your barbershop, so...I was wondering if you could give me a haircut!” Y/N rushed out the last bit.

    The air grew silent around them and for a moment it looked Sweeney was actually taken aback by the request. Not wanting him to get the wrong idea, Y/N quickly added “Of course, I don’t expect you to do anything for free! I’ll pay you, like any other customer would. I just thought...Well, we’ve known each other for quite some time now and...”

    It was clear to him that Y/N was getting lost in their unnecessary rant. If seeing them in joy was refreshing to Sweeney, seeing them nervous and coy was downright amusing. Although women weren’t his usual customers, seeing as killing a woman was different from killing a man and he had a target after all, not to mention how much they liked to talk, it didn’t mean he could not use his skills on them.

    Pushing lightly on their shoulders, Sweeney directed Y/N into the barber chair. Keeping a neutral expression on his face, like usual, he couldn’t help but feel an odd rush of excitement at seeing them so stiff in a place where he murdered so many men. They weren’t scared of him, he didn’t give them any reason to be...yet. He imagined they were just nervous about the whole thing.

    It turned out Sweeney’s assumptions were correct. He never really agreed to cutting their Y/N hair, what if he was doing it only to shut them up? It wasn’t like they would ask him about it and he wouldn’t tell them by himself, it would be best to just enjoy it, Y/N decided.

    Not sure where to look, Y/N decided to close their eyes and concentrate on the feeling. First the feeling of a soft plaid being draped over them and the slight cold feeling of it, like walking through a foggy street. Then Sweeney tipped the chair backwards, the sudden movement startling poor Y/N, before they relaxed again. He supported their head on one of his hands, while he pulled their hair from under them and over the chair with his other, then gently placing Y/N’s head back. And then it was just scissors and the occasional tug of a hairbrush.

    Now that Sweeney was this close to Y/N, he noticed certain things about them. For example, how soft their hair felt or how they relaxed in the barber chair completely over time. Something about seeing them in such a relaxed state made him relaxed too and if his movements were even a little stiff, now they were completely fluent.

    Sometimes he had to catch some loose strands of hair and so accidentally brush his hands over Y/N’s exposed neck. Just looking at it, craned into his touch, felt so enticing. How easy would it be to plunge those scissors into the soft flesh, see the blood gush out, and their wide eyes and helpless gasps leaving their mouth until it would fill with the red essence to the brim.

    It would all look lovely, but there wasn’t the satisfaction he felt while envisioning killing his other customers or the judge himself. The death of Y/N would be just a mess, without a reason, without passion and if he’d kill just for his belief that all people deserve to die, he wouldn’t be any better than any drunken aggressor. He was better than that.

    Y/N wasn’t sure if they dosed off, but when Sweeney’s touch disappeared, taking the snipping of scissors with it, it felt like rising from a dream. They opened their eyes just as Sweeney pulled the plaid from their frame and proceeded to straighten the chair once more.

    Y/N stood up and smoothed down their clothes. Clearing their throat, they asked “So, how much do I owe you?” Without actually looking at them, Sweeney made his way around them to put his tools on a table at the wall behind the barber chair “It’s nothing. I just trimmed your hair, since you never told me what you wanted me to do.” Y/N had to admit that they kind of got lost in the moment.

    Deciding on a rather bold decision, they approached him and placed a quick peck on the barber’s cheek “Thank you mr. Todd!” they said with their usual cheerful attitude and made a beeline towards the door, fearing that if they stayed just a while longer, he’d throw a razor at them or something, judging by the expression on his face.

    Minutes went by and Sweeney still stared at the door, unblinking, unmoving. He didn’t know how to feel about the payment he received, but the new sides he got to see of Y/N were definitely enough for him to keep around. Seeing them so nervous was definitely amusing, to say the least.

[archived-gtronpa-account]

you mind writing anything with shuichi and kokichi? i just love how you write them iejfjdkdij

Tysm bby 🥺🥺 I too love writing those losers pfpfpfpf

(sorry this took so long btw!! at this point ur prolly thinking your ask got eaten by tumblr bsbsbsbs writer's block just hit me HARD)

____

Word count: 2800

Summary: The participants of the killing game stay away from Kokichi, and big villain Kokichi antagonizes himself. Meanwhile, Shuichi just wants to have a talk.

____

After Monokuma's new motive, everyone agreed that Kokichi had to be the mastermind. It didn't help that even the boy himself pushed the idea on to his classmates. Shuichi didn't buy into the obvious lie.

The motive put Kokichi at a severe disadvantage; he couldn't access the main school building, the dorms— really, he couldn't get inside any building. Not only that, but he was much easier to spy on and sneak up to. Still, Shuichi could see why it was so easy for his peers to think of Kokichi as the villain hiding among them; on surface level, it would make sense for the mastermind to put himself in a position of power to strike fear and force the killing game to start, and somehow making himself grow taller than every building overnight seemed like a good way to do that.

Shuichi's footsteps were slow with reluctance as he walked through the courtyard. Kaito and Maki wouldn't let him go talk to Kokichi if they knew— at least not alone, but they didn't have to know nor find out. The three of them had already separated long ago after they were done with training, and come to think of it, he hadn't met anyone else wandering out on his way, besides Ryoma who hung around the dorms. He was glad no one would question him, but nervous at the idea of having little to no witness should something happen that night.

Kokichi was thankfully awake, sitting behind the main building and staring hard at his checkered scarf that had for some reason been laid out on the ground. Shuichi felt even more hesitant to break whatever odd thing was going on. All of a sudden, he remembered why he was so nervous; Kokichi looked much, much more intimidating when he could grab anyone in a fist and dangle them twenty feet above ground. Shuichi decided he could try to talk to him another time, and spun on his heels to retreat when a voice made him freeze on the spot.

"My beloved detective! I was just thinking about you~"

When said detective looked over his shoulder, he found a giant Kokichi peering down at him with a radiant smile, and he somehow found himself regretting both his decision to come and to leave.

"Kokichi, ah… Wh-what were you thinking?"His hand unconsciously reached for the hat on his head to pull it further down, and he didn't miss how Kokichi's eyes flickered to the hat and reflected something that vanished too fast for Shuichi to read into.

"Nothing, nothing! Just thinking that you're basically my best target to kill," almost too easily, his smile stretched into a familiar leer, "An investigation without our dearest, coolest detective just wouldn't go the same. Besides, no one could suspect me of killing my beloved, so you're my ticket to get out of this hell school! Ah, or maybe I could bury your dead body so that there would be no body discovery and no class trial, only the pain and despair of loosing yet another classmate. How's that sound?"

What the— that was harsh, and quick, almost instantaneous. Kokichi was definitely on edge, all the more reasons not to talk to him. Still…"Please don't joke about that," Shuichi pulled his hat further down, silently apologizing to Kaede for still being this weak after the death of so many of his friends. He didn't dare look up to the large face of the evil leader.

A beat passed, then another, and when nothing more happened and the boy thought nothing more would happen and he would better leave already, "… Sheesh, fine. I'm sorry you're so sensitive, Shuichi."

"A-ah," the sudden mood swing caught him off guard. Kokichi's voice had fallen much lower and quieter than its usual childish high pitch. "It's fine." He still didn't dare look up, instead focusing his gaze on the scarf that laid on the ground. "I… What were you doing?"

"Oh, this? Nothing, really, just lil' old me playing games with lil' old myself. Hey, maybe I won't kill Saihara if he beats me at a game of chess!" Without looking up, he could feel the giant boy shift and lean above him and saw his shadow stretch until it engulfed him.

"Wha- I didn't- I only wanted to talk a bit."

"Wha-? Ah? I did-didn't- I only want to play a game. So really, it's your choice."

There was really no arguing with him. Maybe Shuichi could get him to talk if he accepted to play with him for a bit. "Alright, but," he stepped closer up, inspecting the scarf. It had been folded into a sixty four squares chessboard, but, "How are we playing without pieces?"

"You just have to imagine real hard that they're there, and suddenly you can see them right in front of you! I also hope you know the algebraic notation, since we'll be needing it." Shuichi tried to ignore the unnerving feeling of the ground faintly shaking under his feet as Kokichi shifted and fidgeted on his spot like an overly excited child.

"I think I do, but doesn't this sounds a little too hard?"

"Geez, Shuichi, I didn't think you of all people would have trouble imagining what's not there. You look like the kid in middle school who only talked to his imaginary friends. Besides, games are always more fun on hard mode anyway." Shuichi sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he was about to waste precious sleep hours playing an impossible game of chess with a giant clown. He stepped closer still and positioned himself in front of the makeshift gameboard, then glanced up to Kokichi. Instead of the mocking smirk he'd expected, he was only met with a big, almost amused grin and eyes sparkling with excitement. Shuichi looked down again, some of the previous tension leaving his body. "Alright, I'll start, since black fits your aesthetic better. E-four."

And if the 'game' itself wasn't already hard enough, Shuichi couldn't, for the life of it, stay focused with how fidgety Kokichi was being. His fingers hammered down on the ground incessantly and his head rocked left and right the same way Angie's would, both motions sending faint vibrations in the ground under Shuichi's feet. He didn't get a break either when it was the others turn to play, since he'd state his next move without missing a beat— almost as if he'd already known what Shuichi would do. It was uncanny yet interesting to get an insight on how the supreme leader's brain worked, only it would have been better if it had happened before the weird growth motive, when Shuichi didn't have to fear he'd get snatched up in the air at any given moment.

Sometime in the next hour, he ended up taking his hat off to help him focus and get a clearer look at the gameboard; gameboard which he stood in the middle of, in an attempt to help him keep track of the pieces' placement. He frowned, spun around and looked left and right as he tried to remember where he'd left his rook. So focused and lost in the game, he failed to notice when his foot got caught in the fabric; on the next step he took, he fell back on his back. Startled and faces reddening, he fumbled to get back on his feet, when a large face came in his view and stopped him in his track.

"Nishishi~ Shuichi, you're really funny being like this." An encore of the insect incident; Kokichi's upside-down face loomed over him, so close he could faintly feel his warm breath ruffling his hair. Shuichi instinctively reached for a hat that wasn't there, before shuffling his hand back down in shame. He wished it had been there for reassurence, but ultimately decided it was for the best that he couldn't hide behind it. He couldn't be anything but intimidated by Kokichi when he towered over him like that and could so easily do so much, but he didn't want to be scared when he knew that Kokichi, despite all the awful things he was (and he was a lot of awful things) wouldn't go far with his games and wouldn't use his new stature to his advantage.

"It's…" he took a second to breath, regain his composure and look the giant supreme leader in the eyes, "It's hard to remember how the board is set after every move," he got up and brushed himself off. Why can you do it so easily? He wouldn't expect a serious answer to that, so he kept the question to himself.

"Oh hush, this is the only excuse you got to justify losing so badly?" He leaned away and smirked, "I could do you a favor and capture a couple more of your pieces, hmm? Or maybe, here," out of the corner of his eyes, Shuichi saw a large hand come his way, and all the courage he'd been building up for so long all but melted away as his eyes shut tight and stumbled several steps back, once again getting his foot caught in fabric and falling back on his butt. Atua help him, at that point, he only wished the fabric would swallow him whole so he wouldn't embarrass himself again.

He kept his eyes closed tight and waited, but when there was no pressure around himself he cracked an eye open and saw, to his relief, the hand hanging a few feet away from him. The relief was quickly replaced with shame, and he felt a little stupid for having gotten scared so easily after having put so much faith in Kokichi. From above, he heard the boy groan and say, "Relax Max, I said I wouldn't kill you until we're done with this game," with a tinge of annoyance. Fear lingered in Shuichi's mind when he saw the hand approaching him once again, but this time he managed to stand his ground when fingers slipped behind his back and easily scooped him up in an open palm.

In the next second, he was lifted and dropped off in one swift movement, leaving him dizzy and slightly sickened. He clutched on to whatever his hands found first, and took a moment to process his position on Kokichi's shoulder, and another moment to answer him when he said, "Better? Now you can't come whining that you can't see the board clearly."

"Yeah…" he muttered, still busy trying to find his balance. He found his hand balled up in a fist around a lone lock of purple hair, so he moved closer still until he was huddled against Kokichi's neck, and he hoped the other boy wouldn't hear his heart pounding with unease.

They were able to carry out the game for a while longer. At some point, Kokichi's hand ended up on his lap, and Shuichi, despite his anxiety spiking up at the gesture, stayed quiet about it, deciding to accept the extra bit of safety. He took it as a sign that Kokichi, too, was comfortable enough, so he decided to try to strike up the conversation he'd wanted to have.

"Are you sure you're not cheating ?" Maybe not the best way to start some small talk, but the first to come to mind when he was loosing more and more of his important imaginary pieces with every turn and he was sure Kokichi was somehow cheating.

"Who? M-Me?" Kokichi sniffled, and his shoulder jolted with a faked sob, leaving Shuichi to clutch onto the large hand on his lap like a lifeline. "I can't believe my beloved would accuse me of such- such a nefarious deed! Shuichi, you really broke my heart here."

Then all at once, his voice switched from 'heartbroken' back to nonchalant when he said, "Besides wouldn't you except the mastermind of this thrilling game of murder and betrayal to be good at some kids' strategy games? You know, I lied about my real talent, I'm actually the ultimate chess master…"

"You have poor taste in motives if you're really behind this killing game." Shuichi cut him off before he could drift away from the subject. A perfect opportunity not to waste. "I mean, this is more disadvantageous to you than anything. You can't access any building, nor can you hide anywhere if you need to be discreet for your secret evil plans. And if you were really the mastermind, you wouldn't want to single yourself out and leave our classmates feeling safe and secure…"

More and more inconsistencies came to his mind as he presented his deductions, and Kokichi listened, silent and unmoving. "I think… I think the reason behind this motive is for the mastermind to push our classmates away from you and to," he bit his lip and prepared himself to present yet another truth he didn't want to believe, "To force you to kill someone. The school can't accommodate for you for more than a few days at most, so unless the motive's effect is reversed soon…" he left the end unsaid.

Kokichi remained silent and still, so much so that Shuichi was almost tempted to reach out to his neck and check for a pulse, when he settled for, "Maan, Shuichi, you really are naive. You really thought this was all there was to this motive?" The hand on his lap slid off, and Kokichi leaned back against the wall behind him in an viciously abrupt movement that made Shuichi slip and almost fall, then he went on without a pause, "You know, your logic doesn't apply to every situation, mister detective. The only reason I care about is my own entertainment, simple as that. And if I get bored, I can reverse the motive whenever I want."

Shuichi couldn't see his face from his angle, but he could imagine the leer easily plastered on it, like a mask worn a hundred times. "Wouldn't you be breaking your own rules then? And admitting defeat to the participants of the game?"

The debate that ensued made Shuichi feel like he was back on trial grounds. Kokichi shot him arguments to prove he was mastermind. They were full of contradictions, half-hearted and shaky as a card castle in the middle of a storm, and too easily, his truth cut through the other's words like a bullet. Kokichi sounded bored, like he'd prefer keeping his lie true but wouldn't mind an outcome in which Shuichi busted him. And Shuichi wanted that, to see through Kokichi's lies, to get a chance to understand why he was so hellbent on making a villain out of himself when he so obviously worked to stop the killing game just like his classmates, he wanted to reach out to him and pull him out of his self-inflicted loneliness and work together with him to save their friends, if only he would take his hand.

Their debate came to a halt when a crash was heard from Miu's lab. Shuichi distinctly felt Kokichi stiffen and tense up at the sound. He brought a hand back up to his smaller classmate and wrapped it around him in a loose fist, before he got up and made his way to the inventor's lab in quiet, quick steps. There, Shuichi was lowered back on solid ground and rushed in the lab.

His knees almost gave out, his mouth hung open in a silent scream. Ryoma's body lay in the middle of the room in a pool of his own blood. Lifeless eyes stared at the detective, and the detective stared back. Shuichi felt his throat constrict, his vision swimming, he clutched his chest and tore his eyes away from the scene. He had let another one of his friends die, he would soon have to investigate the crime, to doom the killer among them by his own hands.

"Shit," he turned around, and there was Kokichi peering in the lab and their classmate's body with a frown. It vanished as quick as it had come and was replaced by a blank face with a click of his tongue. "Well then, Shuichi, I guess I'll leave you here to do your detective work while I go call the others, hmm?" And he got up without waiting for an answer. Before he left, Shuichi heard him mutter, "I hope the next motive doesn't make me really tiny or something."

_____

Gosh this took so long yet I still feel it's so bad. Hope I was at least able to quench some of your thirst for saiou bae

[consumedkings-archive]

things you were afraid to say + elliot x john xx

tysm babes!!! i had fun finagling this one a bit--set in a pre-cult (or maybe no cult?) au and with a splash of christmas for the holidays 💖 ~1.7k (i’m sorry it’s so long these two idiots share one brain cell and they use it entirely for talking shit to each other)

blue, baby ✤ no-cult au

honeyseed + things you were afraid to say

word count: ~1.7k im sorry

warnings: none! just these two fools being themselves

It was exactly the time of year that John Seed liked to come and get in her way.

Elliot was not a woman easily won over, especially after a breakup; these things were gravely permanent to her, sometimes in a fatalistic way that Joey often said was too hard to be constructive anymore. The only exception to the rule had been John Seed—wealthy, spoiled lawyer who spent maybe a little too much time in front of a mirror to be the kind of guy that Elliot usually went for. They had dated on and off non-seriously for a few months, and then “seriously” (which Elliot always put in quotes, because the only person who seemed to take it serious was her) for another six months, followed by a series of get-togethers and break-ups that were instigated by both sides in equal amounts.

So, yes; John Seed was not the kind of man that Elliot usually went for—and this meant that he was the exception to all of her rules, across the board.

His favorite time to come sweeping back in was the holidays. She had her theories as to why; they included, namely, that John would be attending family dinners with his brothers and sister, and couldn’t stand the idea that he’d be showing up alone. He also knew that Elliot’s mother would be hounding her to come and celebrate Christmas at her house—which was fine (“fine”), but made her acutely aware of the parental failings of her absentee father and alcoholic mother.

This was why as soon as Elliot opened the front door of her house and saw John standing there in his stupid turtleneck and dumb fucking shades, and he said, “Hey there, beautiful,” she slammed the door in his face.

Or rather, tried to; John knew her as well as she did him, now, and he jammed one booted foot into the way before the door could get closed. There was that infuriatingly charming, boyish grin on his face. “Was it something I said?”

“More your existence in my space,” Elliot snipped back, narrowing her eyes. “If anyone else stuck their foot in my door they’d be incapacitated.”

“I know,” John said in the way that she hated—because he was right. He did know. “But you wouldn’t do that to me.”

Elliot made a non-committal noise, to leave room for uncertainty. John hesitated, just for a second, and he inched his knee past the door.

“Invite me in, baby, it’s freezing out,” he purred. Elliot hated the way that his voice made her skin prickle with a strange anticipation, a craving. It was why John had become her exception; everything he did, his pet names and the way his hands had to always be on her, reverent, covetous—they were things she had never known that she wanted until John did them, and now if anyone else did those things, they felt cheap. Nothing like the real deal, John had said once, when she’d muttered it into his neck at night.

“What are you, a vampire?” Elliot scoffed. “Use your two grown man legs and walk in yourself.”

“Just trying to be polite.”

She released the pressure she was holding on the door and let him in; a chilly breeze had wafted in, bringing with it some dredges of snow as well, and goosebumps prickled along her skin. John shut the door behind him, shrugging out of his coat, taking a quick glance around the living room. The details of her evening were laid out quite clear; a bottle of wine, a barely-touched bowl of popcorn, the paused Christmas movie on the TV. As soon as he stepped out of his shoes and sidled after her, Boomer barked from his bed in delight. His tail wagged excitedly, but he waited—ever obedient—until Elliot said, “Alright, then,” and he went racing to John.

“Exciting night?” John asked casually, knelt down to rub Boomer’s ears with as much politeness as he could muster. “I see you’ve invested yourself into Hallmark Christmas.” The words left his mouth with a degree of disdain, which was not lost on her. Stupid fucker couldn’t resist being a pompous asshole even in her own house, huh?

“Actually, yes, I was having a very nice evening,” she huffed, tucking her legs up under her as she settled on the couch. He laughed, giving Boomer a few of the big pats that the dog really liked and she continued, “What do you want, John?”

The question made the brunette pause. He looked frustratingly attractive, in his black turtle neck and slacks, his shades tucked up into his hair. He came and sat next to her on the couch; Elliot turned so that her back was against the arm and she was facing him head-on. No room for shenanigans.

“I miss you, El,” John said, and she groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Shut the fuck up.” Her cheeks felt red already; the earnestness in his voice was enough to make her heart stutter painfully in her chest. “You don’t know how many times you’ve said those exact words to me in this exact situation—”

“Four or five,” he admitted. He propped his arm up on the top of her knee and leaned into her a little bit, until her eyes narrowed. “Don’t look at me like that. Didn’t you miss me too?”

Yes, she thought, but the idea of saying the words out loud made her stomach lurch with dread. It was too easy for John to do that to her—plunge her straight into the kinds of things that wadded the fear up high and desperate in her throat, things like I missed you and I want you and I love you.

So she didn’t say any of those things, even though they were all certainly true and even though she certainly felt them, regardless of whether they were broken up or not. Instead, she said, “What is there to miss, John Seed?”

Of course I missed you.

One of his hands went to cover his heart. The silver rings that he favored glittered, reminding her that she had also never liked a man who accessorized quite like John, either, until he’d come along. Now, she found herself hopelessly attracted to brunettes with ear piercings and Gucci shades and silver rings and tattoos that answered to the name John.

“Elliot Honeysett, you’ve mortally wounded me. I hope you’re happy with yourself.” He leaned back against the couch, watching her with his eyes—infuriatingly blue—before he cracked that boyish grin at her. “I mean it, El, I did miss you. I meant it those other times and I mean it now.”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. “That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t know what you want me to do with this information.” Warily, she eyed him. “And you are notorious for saying nice things.”

John flashed his teeth in a wolfish grin that did very little to inspire confidence in her. “I want,” he replied, the pad of his thumb dragging along the inside of her knee, “for you to say it back.”

“No,” Elliot replied instantly, out of instinct. “Fuck you.”

“So prickly.” He leaned in, having sidled between her legs, and reached up; his fingers traced the slope of her jaw. “I know that our undeniable and instantaneous connection is scary for you—”

She warned, “You are within perfect punching range.”

“—but more than anything,” John continued, voice pitching low into a murmur, “all I want is to hear you say you missed me too.”

They were all there, inside of her—collected up, gathered up and packed away for later, those things that would have made him happy if she said them. I missed yous and I love yous and I want yous. Collecting dust from misuse, because the only person that made her want to say those things was also the person that made her afraid to say them at all.

“El,” John murmured. “I can hear those little gears of your turning.”

“You make me so fucking mad,” she replied, the words trying to stick in her throat on their way out of her mouth. Her chest felt tight; all of the alarm bells in her head kept ringing, screaming at her to stop, but John was close and leaning closer and he was so warm and the smell of his cologne was washing over her and—

It didn’t matter how many times he said the words. They always hit the same chords within her, and they always made her want him with every inch of her being. It was all Elliot really ever wanted; for someone to want her, to crave her, to jealously covet her like she was something to be treasured. John was always very good at that—unpacking her, pulling her thread until she unraveled, to dig down into the nitty-gritty of what she actually wanted the most.

But Joey, Elliot would have to say when inevitably this came up in their next phone call, he smelled so good when he said it to me, and he called me baby, and held my face the way he knows I like.

“I did,” she managed out, feeling that little adrenaline-drop she got every time she let herself even start thinking about saying something like this to him, like the plunge of a rollercoaster. “Of course I missed you, you fuckhead.”

John leaned in and kissed her, and she could feel him grinning against her mouth; his fingers carded through her hair and then gripped at the base of her skull so he could kiss her again. Mistake, something in her said. Big fucking mistake. But it was too late; she knew how this song and dance went.

“Of course,” he agreed, and sounded quite pleased with himself. “I know how hard it is for you to admit it—”

“I’ll take it back.” She pulled back to narrow her eyes at him, even though she was sure she didn’t look very scary at all, knowing that he could hear how fast her heart was beating. “If I find out you tell one single person—”

“No need,” John assured her against her mouth. “I’ll keep it just between us.”

[tiaragqueen]

Ok so i think my request for Kaneki/Haise x yandere female s/o was eaten xD my idea was.. ANGST! If possible .. :x And about an s/o who has unrequited feeling for him since their childhood and after seeing that he's got a family now, she's left deeply brokenhearted by it that she couldnt take it and she tries to end her life but failed and TRIES to kill Kaneki and Touka instead. But ill leave it to you. Whatever you think is better for the scenario. Tysm! xxxxx

Fallout

✂ Pairing: Kaneki Ken x Yandere! Ghoul! Reader

✂ Word Count: 985

✂ Trigger Warnings: Possessiveness, suicide attempt, violence, blood

[Edited]

***

Oh, man. I hope this is angsty enough. I listened to many sad songs just to immerse myself in it and I might’ve gotten carried away.

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

“Don’t you know I’ve always loved you, even before there was time. Though you turn away, I’ll tell you still. Don’t you know I’ve always loved you, and I always will.” - I’ve Always Loved You [Third Day]

Your hand shook as you pointed the tip of quinque to your other wrist. You didn’t know what possessed you to grab it after a heated battle with some investigators in the past, but you understood its function now.

After all, what was the point of living when you couldn’t be with the person you loved?

Gritting your teeth, you clenched the shard and tried to pierce the skin. You needed to do it quickly, swiftly, because otherwise it’d regenerate and you had to gather another painful wave of courage.

But you couldn’t do it, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn’t that easy to kill yourself as you did to other people. It wasn’t that easy to slice your own skin the same way you sliced people’s flesh. It wasn’t that easy to watch the blood flow from your body the same way you saw people bled to death.

It wasn’t that easy, and that was why it sucked, knowing that you had to live another day of pure loneliness and envy. It sucked knowing that your childhood crush had moved on from you and created his own family, although you never once confessed to him.

Still, would it be too much to ask for him to notice you? Just for once?

And the answer was yes. Yes, it was too much to ask because he, just like you, was shy and would rather hide his feelings from discerning eyes. If confronted, he’d probably beat around the bush instead. That served to prove just how kind he was in dealing with feelings. Kind, not honest.

Then again, he’d never loved you, hadn’t he?

Bowing, you tossed the shard away and hid your tear-stained face under your hands. It was useless, you couldn’t do it. You could never do it. What was the point in trying something when you knew you’d fail anyway? The survival instinct was too great for you to curb, and there was still a small part of you that hoped maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe you could still fix some things to make him see your true, unadulterated feelings. Maybe you could even turn his attention towards you and forget that woman.

The time seemed to slow as a malevolent smile slowly cracked and shattered your defeated mien. Yes, you could do that. You were a ghoul, after all. You were no longer the same fragile human who relied on other people to handle your problems and protect you. You were different now; stronger and tougher. You were certain you could take his wife down. If your memory served you right, ukaku was weak against koukaku.

Fortunately, your target was the only one in the house.

Kicking the door down, you scanned the room for her existence. You didn’t have to wait long, however, because Touka soon appeared with her kakugan activated.

“Who are you?!” she snarled, body tensed in a flight or fight mode.

You didn’t answer and opted to smirk instead. “So, this is the King’s wife, huh? Quite pretty, might I say.” Your smirk widened in response to her colder glare. “I’m afraid you won’t be able to live any longer, though.”

“What the hell do you mean–?”

Touka promptly dodged your thrust, but not quick enough to avoid a small scratch on her cheek. Hissing, she manifested her ukaku and started shooting spike-like projectiles in your direction. You smiled and leaped backward, essentially bringing the fight outside. There weren’t any people in the neighborhood, strangely enough, but it was good. Nobody would become collateral damage, and you hated dragging the innocents to your battles.

Large cracks and crystallized kagune deformed the once smooth ground and busted the neighboring houses. It was obvious the longer you both fought, the more exhausted you seemed. And yet, you persisted and kept attempting to stab her to no avail. Her agile movements and light kagune ensured she evaded your strikes easily. Have you been underestimating her or have you been weakening? 

It couldn’t be it… right? You’d worked your way to become an S rank ghoul, and you’d devoured ghouls before. Your hands had been repeatedly stained by the death of investigators and ghouls alike. You’d spent days and nights training relentlessly so you wouldn’t have to depend on anyone else again.

No, it wasn’t because you were weak or anything embarrassing like that. It was because–

“Touka-chan!”

– She was his wife.

Kaneki rushed to her aid while you landed a few meters away from them, watching the way he examined her body for any sign of injury. And her daughter, sweet little Ichika that you only saw from the pictures your association had given you, fussed over her well-being. She finally noticed your reticent being, and that was when you realized just how… similar she looked to him. Same hair color, same innocent face, same large eyes.

She resembled Kaneki so much it physically hurt you to see her any longer.

“[N-Name]-chan? Is that… is that you?” Your melancholic eyes glided to his dilated ones, a hand clutching your constricting chest. Kaneki gaped at your disheveled state, and you wondered if there was anything positive behind that expression. If he was happy to meet you again as you’d always imagined.

He probably didn’t, the pessimistic voice within you said. Who would be happy to see their old friend harming their lover? Shoulders slumped, you lowered your gaze sadly once the consequences of your rash actions sunk in. Did he hate you now? Was he going to avenge her now?

Was he going to hurt you like he always did with his obliviousness?

There was no answer to that. You didn’t allow yourself the closure you so desperately needed because you immediately spun and fled. Tears flowed from your eyes as you jumped from one building to another, unaware of the hand that yearned to touch you again.

[aharris00britney]

ASKS 12

spoookyyyy season, lmao I tried answering as many as I could but now I am going to be deleting the rest of my inbox so sorry if I didn’t get to answer you :( also WCIFs are on hiatus rn but you can find a lot of the stuff I use on my cc finds blog

Anonymous said: hey, have you ever thought about making a blackpink inspired hair?            

Most of my hairs start off being K-Pop inspired and then don’t look like what I was trying to achieve, so if I tried making one it wouldn’t look right once I finished it haha, I have a hair based off Lisa though!

Anonymous said: are all of your hairs also male compatible? there's a guy sim i want to make who has shoulder length hair and one of yours would be great to use

I never check that since I make them for female sims, but if you change some tags in S4S you should be able to check the hair you want yourself :D

Anonymous said: would you be ok with people converting your hair?       

Sure! I plan on converting some hairs eventually but if other people do it then I don’t mind at all. Just credit me obvi and link to the original post

Anonymous said: Hey, I love your CC (especially the hairs) and your sims are so beautiful! However, I noticed that so far you only uploaded your female sims (not that I’m complaining, they’re all gorgeous!) but I was just wondering if you could upload one or two male sims sometime? They look amazing too!            

I actually have had my male model sim in my drafts since JANUARY ready to post, I just need to get his tray files haha. Will try to do it soon! Also ty

Anonymous said: Have you posted your female "model" for everything on the sims 4 gallery?

yeah they’re on the gallery! Aharris00britney is my origin ID

Anonymous said: hiya, i was wondering if you created your own hair textures or if you used ea's (or anyone else's textures)? thanks!            

I use EA textures as bases and usually edit them somehow by combining different ones together when needed.

@ellebellsims​ said: Hello! Tysm for all the lovely hairs you provide for us! I end up using at least one of your hairs for every household in my game, haha. I had two quick questions.. the first, for someone that has limited abilities in making recolors (and never with hair before) how difficult is it to add an ombre accessory or recolor for one of your hairs? Also, how difficult would it be to convert for kids?    

Recolors are really easy to do, there are tons of tutorials on YouTube that will help with that. Ombre accessories are a bit challenging but hopefully I can get a tutorial for those out one day. Converting to kids is really simple if you know Blender basics, you can use my converting to adults tutorial to get an idea of how a conversion would work.        

Anonymous said: You had a obession with the flowers lmao            

lmao, very true!

Anonymous said: wcif the ice cream in this post? /post/174729716466/icecreamedit            

the ice cream was drawn in by @ayoshi-sims​ :( so it isn’t a real thing

@wholegrainsims​ said: hey there! i saw in your about that your favorite show is game of thrones! mine too! also your hair that’s coming out on 9/30 looks like a mm cersei hair & i’ve been dying for some mm got cc! looking forward to it!            

omg true! I didn’t even think of Cersei while making it lmao, thank you for pointing that out to me :D

Anonymous said: O M G  your selfie in the 57 facts tag was the most adorable thing ever. You're like insanely handsome?? I am shook???

Anonymous said: how does you feel being extremely beautiful?          

@theforgottensimblr​ said: omg, just saw your post at the fire alarm and I just have to say that you are so cute. That's it, you're cute. Hope you're having a good day        

Anonymous said: YOU ARE SO BOOTIFUL      

Anonymous said: You are a very beautiful human being. I like your face and personality very much.❤️                  

haha thank you guys! I don’t find myself that attractive of a person so the compliments helps keep me from being super self conscious :P thank you again <3 very much appreciated

Anonymous said: not sims related, but opinions on the most recent bts comeback?            

I don’t keep up with a lot of the boy group comebacks, but I listened to it and thought it was okay? I am pretty strictly into girl groups/female singers though so I’m not the best person to ask about it haha

Anonymous said: hi austin!! i just wanted to say i love your creations and you are one of the most amazing hair creators out there! but i had a quick question: will you ever put your "dean" hair model available for download? 

I don’t know if he is saved, but if he is I will try to put him for download!

Anonymous said: ok so i have a question if you dont mind, i feel like it's kind of stupid but how do you manage to move parts of the hair mesh in edit mode without the part you selected like 'seperating' from the part you didn't select and making a big ass gap in the mesh? like does that make sense? when i try to edit shit in edit mode i cant ever bc the faces separate from eachother when i try to translate a part of it or make it smaller, etc. if this makes sense, thank you if not im sorry im just stupid.            

REMOVE DOUBLES!!!! lmao that is the only way you will get anything done in edit mode. Proportional Edit Tool and Removing doubles from the entire mesh makes it a lot easier than sculpt mode. Make sure to split edges later though

@bishyouknowit​ said: I just recently went cc free and now I see your new hairs and I just wanna download all the hairs I had from you again and put them back in my game. I love your stuff so much!! ❤❤❤❤❤

aww thank you!! I am glad you like my cc <3 good luck staying cc free haha I could neverrrr

@bangtansabotage​ said: who's your loona bias?        

Kim Lip <3 then Yves, Jinsoul, and Hyunjin

Anonymous said: Absolutely love the content you're coming out with! You're so talented. 💝

thank you so much <3 glad you are enjoying my cc as much as I enjoy making it :P

Anonymous said: Is it wrong I forgot you were a guy?            

Yes.... LMAO egfdbv I am joking :P It is fine you forgot, it isn’t like I am posting a selfie everyday showing off my radiating masculinity sfdcfbvb which I don’t even have

Anonymous said: you’re very good 👌🏼

at what 👀👀 ****** ***?

Anonymous said: Do you put your things up on Simsdom? because I just found you Em hair on there            

I don’t :( but as long as they are linking to my post and not to the download link there isn’t much I can do.

Anonymous said: Columbus never set food in North America, he landed on various Caribbean islands. Also, Delaware was the first state.

take that up with my history teacher from like 2nd grade ok rwedffvb

Anonymous said: you're in virginia? I go to college in virginia too but i'm from missouri!! it's cool to think that one of my favorite content creators is so close to me! much love!!!!           

ooooo exciting!!! I go to Radford lmao it is like 30 minutes from Virginia Tech

Anonymous said: Yooo! You're from VA! Ive never met anyone online from VA except from me!

omg that is crazy you’ve never met anyone from here before haha, I have only met like one or two so makes sense I guess

[jae-bummer]

Take It or Leave It

Request: hey!! can i request 8 and 17 for wonho? tysm, and i hope you have a nice day! (this is my first time requesting idk what i'm supposed to do ahduxk)

8) “Why am I so afraid to lose you when you aren’t even mine?” 17) Your bias hires you to be their significant other

Member: Monsta X’s Wonho x Y/N x (ft. Minhyuk)

Type: fluff

“I can’t do it,” you muttered, attempting to turn around for the dozenth time. “But I have to...” You argued with yourself, spinning back around on your heel and continuing down the original route you were once traveling. “But I can’t.” 

You paused again in the middle of the sidewalk and groaned, attracting several glances from businessmen passing nearby. You were in the midst of an existential crisis. 

At two in the afternoon. 

In the middle of Gangnam. 

For the world to see. 

“But you gotta,” you nodded, beginning forward motion again. 

You kept your portfolio tucked securely under your arm as you traversed the pavement, making your way to the tall building looming in the distance. When you had moved to Korea, it had never been your goal to work for an entertainment company, but when the opportunity had presented itself, who were you to say no? 

You continued to nod, whispering small affirmations to yourself as butterflies beat wildly in your stomach. “Position specifications,” you hummed, mentally reading over the job listing you had damn near memorized. “No age specifications. No specifications in physical appearance. May be male or female. Must have a firm grasp of languages and the ability to cook ramen.” 

The position being scouted for was an English tutor, so the firm grasp of language portion hadn’t stumped you, but just about everything else had. What did cooking ramen have to do with your proficiency of the English language? 

You pushed lightly on the door of the building leading to Starship Entertainment, leaving little hesitation in your motions as the structure’s shadow swallowed you whole. If you paused for even a fraction of a moment, you would have yourself talked out of the interview and nervously jogging back toward your apartment. 

Glancing around the lobby, you instantly met eyes with a small, blonde woman situated behind a large, dark-wood desk. She smiled at you cautiously as she shuffled a stack of papers and gave a quick nod in your direction as you began to approach. 

“Hello, I’m here for the job inter-”

“Yes, hello, hi, I’ve got it, don’t worry about it from here. Everything is a-okay. You didn’t see this person, nor do you know they exist - thank you,” an unfamiliar blonde boy squeaked as he grabbed you lightly by the shoulders and began to pivot you away from the receptionist’s desk. 

“Wait, I had to check in-” you whispered, glancing up at the strange man. 

“I told him not to advertise it as a Starship position,” he clucked, shaking his head. “This is a bad idea, such a bad idea.” 

“I’m sorry, but what exactly is a bad idea?” you hissed, becoming more annoyed by the moment. You felt as if you were being abducted. “And who are you?”

“Oh, I’m definitely not going to be the one to break this news to you,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And uh...I’m Changkyun, Im Changkyun, that’s C-H-A-”

“Ah! Minhyukkie!” a bright voice called from a corridor toward your right. “You intercepted the uh...interview?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly call it that,” the boy holding onto your shoulders grumbled. 

“Wait, I thought you said your name was-” you began, furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at him. 

“You thought nothing. You saw nothing. I was never here,” the man you now knew to be Minhyuk hissed. “This is Hoseok’s train wreck.” 

“I’m assuming you’re Hoseok?” you asked, turning to the handsome boy who had just appeared in the lobby. 

“I am,” he grinned. “Care to take a seat?” 

“You’re just going to talk to her about this in public?” Minhyuk gasped. “Shouldn’t you like...I don’t know...at least take her for an ice cream before you spill the details about your immense lie-”

“Minhyuk,” Hoseok cringed. “I think I hear someone calling for you. From the elevator. Twelve floors up. You should probably attend to that.” 

“The less I see, the less I’m responsible for,” Minhyuk muttered. He sighed as he looked you up and down and shook his head. “Bless you.” 

“Uh, I feel as if there is something that wasn’t conveyed accurately on the job listing?” you whispered, cutting your eyes at Hoseok. He nodded nervously as he began to sidestep toward a set of plush couches in the corner of the lobby. You followed his slow movements, growing weary with the thought of even talking to him. 

He was lucky he was so good-looking. The thought almost caused a groan to escape from your lips as it crossed your mind. Were you really that easy to be coerced by a pretty face?

The answer was yes. 

But in your defense, you had never seen a face like Hoseok’s before. 

“So, you’re interested in the position,” he nodded, attempting to keep his face calm. You hadn’t known it at the time, but he had just as many butterflies in his stomach as you. “Now might be a good time to let you know...uh...well...

Starship isn’t looking for an English tutor for their artists.”

“Alright, thank you,” you hummed, gathering your things and beginning to stand. A hollow feeling hit low in your stomach. You knew it was too good to be true. “Have a wonderful da-”

“No,” Hoseok chuckled uneasily as he reached out to grab your wrist. He paused after your skin had touched and hissed slightly. “Not like the position has been filled...there was no position to begin with.” 

“Yup, alright, got it,” you nodded, taking your arm from his grasp.  This afternoon was growing stranger and stranger by the moment and you wanted nothing more than to flee from the situation. “I think we’re done here.”

“But we aren’t,” he groaned, shifting to better face you in your half standing, half crouching position. “There’s another position open...a...um...private position. That I’m hiring for.” 

“That you’re-” you trailed, furrowing your brows in confusion. “Assuming you’re an artist here, which obviously explains why your face looks the way it does-”

“I’m sorry, what?” he chuckled, a smile easily finding his lips. 

“Like you don’t know how good looking you are,” you muttered, plopping back down on the couch. “Of course you’re represented by Starship. If you’re a model or an idol, I don’t know how you can privately hire anyone.” 

“I need a date,” he sighed, crossing his arms. His words felt like a splash of cold water across your face as he spoke them. “Events, family functions. I’m going back home for Chuseok and my mother expects to meet my partner. The one I’ve been telling her so much about...” 

“And you thought...putting an ad on the internet...would accomplish that?” you whispered. You weren’t sure if you were angry or astonished. “An ad...that wasn’t even what the actual job was asking?” 

“I wanted someone intelligent to apply,” he sighed. “I didn’t just want to put any old ad out there asking if someone wanted to date an idol.” 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in, trying to understand the quick turn in which the situation had taken. Granted, the terms of work had vastly changed, but at the end of the day, you did still need a job. Were you desperate enough to further explore Hoseok’s offer? 

That was hard to determine. 

“Right,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “Because this is so much better.” 

“I know, you must look at me and think...why does a man, who is the pinnacle of beauty, need to hire someone to date him?” Hoseok continued. “I’ve wondered it myself.” 

You took a deep breath, pausing a moment before you could find an answer. “Actually I was thinking...why does one man need that many accessories, but I assumed it’d be rude to say out loud.”

Hoseok’s jaw dropped slightly before he closed his mouth and smirked. “Well...now that my feelings are sufficiently hurt, let’s take Minhyukkie’s advice and go for a walk.”

“How do you fit feelings between all of those muscles?” you grumbled, beginning to stand. 

“The same way you fit unnecessary sass between those curves,” he grinned. “And by the mere act of standing, I assume you aren’t necessarily ruling out this new development in the job interview.” 

And he was right. 

You hadn’t. 

And that was how you spent two hours, walking around Gangnam with a Korean pop idol, deciding on the terms in which you would begin dating him. 

You leaned against the counter, exhaustion flooding your limbs. Gripping onto the mug in your hands, you blinked heavily above the coffee you had been handed, and sighed in contentment. 

You had spent the better part of your Chuseok helping out Hoseok and his mother at the cafe she owned. Just because most families in Korea were taking an autumn break did not mean her establishment would. She knew patrons would be coming home for the holidays and would want to spend their time at her coffee shop, and she couldn’t be more correct. People flooded into her doors with the cold breeze and consumed incredible amounts of her delicious food and drink. 

You smiled as you met eyes with her. 

She was an incredible woman. It didn’t take long for you to figure that out. You understood why Hoseok had talked about her so much in your short time together. 

Oh, Hoseok. 

After your initial meeting, you had both decided in order to make the relationship as authentic as possible, you had to start spending time with one another. It was difficult to accommodate to his schedule, but you treated it as a job, which it was, technically. Initially, you didn’t understand why Hoseok was so determined to not let his mother down. You hadn’t considered it much of a big deal if he admitted to her that he had never had a significant other. Or that maybe he had and they had simply broken up before the holiday. 

But she wanted so badly for him to be happy. 

And she wanted so badly for him to be loved. 

He just didn’t have the heart to break hers. 

Which you totally understood now. 

You looked fondly to Hoseok’s face as he spoke quietly with his mother. The man who you had no initial patience with nor any trust had completely won you over. He was so kind and considerate. You never thought that someone as good looking and talented as him would have such a warm soul as well. It just wasn’t fair. 

He wasn’t allowed to be a good person AND good looking. 

Although you had met him under false pretenses, you quickly realized that Hoseok had never meant any ill will with his actions. He simply found himself in a difficult situation and came up with a pretty dumb idea of how to fix it. 

Then again...how dumb could it be...if it had actually worked? 

“You ready to head home?” Hoseok asked, standing from the table he had initially collapsed at. Breaking you from your thoughts, you nodded blankly, and yawned. 

“Very tired,” his mom smiled. She stood as well and reached forward, patting your hand lightly. “You did well.” 

You grinned up at her and sighed happily. “Thank you.” 

She nodded before wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close. “Thank you for taking care of my Hoseok. He’s a good boy. He deserves someone like you.”

Your chest grew tight as she stepped away and nodded again. “I think we all do.” 

Any words you could possibly begin to speak immediately caught in your throat. All you could do was nod back, attempting to keep an expression of blatant shock from crossing your face. 

Hoseok’s mom gave him a short hug before disappearing into the back kitchen of the cafe. Intertwining his fingers between yours, he tugged you from the counter and toward the front door, taking you on the short walk back to his family’s home and to the plush pallet you two had been sleeping on. You were ready to rest your sore bones, but even more ready to put distance between yourself and the situation you were in. 

You remained silent for the majority of the walk home. Hoseok spoke quickly, lost in thought after thought as per usual. It wasn’t long before both of your tired frames found solace in the stacks of blankets you had been provided, laying only a few feet from one another on the hardwood floor. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Hoseok whispered shortly after he had turned the lights off. 

“Hm?” you hummed. 

“Thanks for...you know...being here,” he hummed. 

“No thanks needed,” you sighed, trying to keep a pang of emotion from flooding your chest. “You’ve been paying me after all.” 

“Yeah, but you could have walked away after I told you the truth,” he sighed. “But you didn’t. You’ve put up with my crazy these past few weeks and have at the very least learned to tolerate me...and I appreciate that.” 

“You aren’t that crazy,” you murmured. “You just love your family a lot.” 

“And luckily they love you,” he chuckled. “It’s went well.” 

“Hey...Hoseok?” you said quietly. This time it was your turn to ask questions. “What...what’s going to happen? I mean...when Chuseok’s over...are you going to tell your family we broke up?” 

“Oh,” he breathed. The silence between you was near tangible as you felt the energy shift. “I...um...I hadn’t really thought that far to be honest.” 

“You probably should,” you muttered. You tried to keep your emotions from entering your voice. You couldn’t let him know that you had grown so fond of him, so fond of his family. You would be at peace with continuing this...whatever it was. Even without pay. But you were too nervous to ever let that secret escape your lips. “Just tell them I dumped you and decided to join the circus or something.” 

“Hmph,” he croaked, shifting in his pile of blankets. “So...does that mean we stop hanging out?” 

“I assume so,” you hummed. You moved to face his dark frame, only lumps and shadows in the darkness. “Isn’t that how breaking up works?”

“Well,” he chuckled. “I never thought...why would I be...”

“Why would you be what?” you asked, a bit frightened of how he could possibly answer. You could never quite tell where Hoseok’s thought processes were heading, so conversations with him were always an adventure. 

“Why am I so afraid to lose you when you aren’t even mine?” he said softly. 

You bit your lip as he flopped back over in the darkness, turning his back toward you. “But I am yours...”

“Only because I’m paying you to be,” he muttered. “How can I expect you to be with me otherwise?” 

“Before I get angry,” you whispered. “I’m going to give you a chance to explain that statement.” 

“I’m weird, and a pain,” he sighed. “I’m high maintenance and have stupid schedules. No one wants to willingly date me. That’s how we got into this situation in the first place...” 

“Hmph...well,” you said quietly, wiggling in your covers toward him. “Maybe...just maybe, this trial period has me sold.” 

“What?” he grumbled, flipping again to face you. 

“Maybe I’d be willing to date you without my time having to be rented, Hoseok,” you grinned into the darkness. 

“I’m sorry, are you actually saying-”

“Gosh, are all of those muscles acting as a sound barrier? I like you, dork. Take it or leave it,” you chuckled. 

“I take it!” he gasped, reaching over and grabbing hold of your hand. “I take it!” 

“Good,” you muttered, tugging your blanket to your chin with your free hand. “You’re lucky I didn’t swoop in and try to charge a discounted rate.”