#and that’s why i’m still in love with him he’s the BEST. but anyway he gave me that

[beloveds-embrace]

rugby player Simon and his pretty little balerina partner. Thats it. Thats whats currently plaquing my mind

Now that you’ve said it I’m thinking about them too because YES 😩 i tried a more headcanony style for this, really had no idea what to write as a drabble

• You first met Simon “Ghost” Riley during an injury rehab session. He’s there nursing a rough tackle, while you’re recovering from an overworked ankle. Despite his intimidating size and silence, he notices how gracefully you move even while stretching, and you can’t help but admire his sheer size even if he’s making the nurses nervous.

• Ghost is, honest to god, shy about approaching you at first; why would delicate, lovely you want someone of his type and build to approach you? But he still gets roped into conversation when you tease him for struggling with a basic stretching exercise. “I’m built for smashing into blokes, not folding like you do.” he grumbles, but he doesn’t sound truly bothered. You are sure you can even hear the amusement. And this is how you end up exchanging number and texting, until he finally asky you out on a proper date.

• He’s genuinely amazed at your discipline and talent, often catching himself zoning out while watching you rehearse. You tease him for staring, but he’s truky awestruck by how effortlessly you glide across the floor, almost looking weightless.

• You love watching him play rugby. Seeing him control the field with raw strength and precision is hot. You start attending his matches, cheering louder than anyone else when he tackles an opponent or scores. His favorite cheerleader- his best girl <3

• Ghost introduces you to his gym routines, and you try (unsuccessfully) to keep up with his weightlifting. You love the view of his muscles flexing, though, and you don’t try to hide it. You also love sitting on his back while he does pushups, giving him a kiss ever so often in encouragement.

• In return, you teach him some basic ballet moves to improve his agility to help him. The image of this massive, intimidating man attempting pliés is hilarious, but he’s surprisingly nimble. “Don’t tell the lads, yeah, doll?” he huffs, though his amusement is clear and it has you giggling.

• Simon loves how tiny you feel when he wraps his arms around you. After games, he picks you up effortlessly, spinning you around as you laugh and lean down to kiss him much to the whistles and hoots of his teammates. Neither of you care anyways.

• After a game, he’s all adrenaline and intensity, body taut. You tease him by saying, “Don’t you dare bring that sweaty self near me, Simon Riley.” but he pulls you into a heated kiss anyway, pinning you gently against a wall in the hallways of the stadium.

• He loves when you practice in front of him wearing your ballet leotard. The combination of your grace and your form-fitting outfit gets his heart and more racing, though he keeps his composure… mostly.

• Simon is also your biggest cheerleader during your performances, sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers that looks comically small in his massive hands. He always looks proud, even if he doesn’t say much. And he absolutely glares or shushes anyone who is causing a ruckus and taking the spotlight off you.

• He joins you most of the time in the backstages, and when you’re feeling nervous before a performance, he cups your face in his big, warm hands and whispers, “You’re the most talented person in the room. Show ‘em who you are.”

• You return the favor by helping him relax before games. You massage his shoulders and give him little pep talks, which he pretends not to need but secretly loves. Sometimes of them are even recorded on his phone for the very rare occasions you can’t make it to his games.

• Said it before but I’ll say it again: you love how his body feels next to yours- rugby has made him all broad shoulders and powerful muscles, and he loves how delicate your hands feel running over his skin. Likewise, he loves caressing your skin and rubbing creams and ointments to your aching feet muscles.

• He calls you “Twinkle Toes” which sounds sarcastic at first but is said with so much affection that it melts your heart.

• You call him “Big Softie” because, despite his tough exterior, he’s the sweetest with you. He pretends to hate it, but he secretly loves when you use it in private. Had a stupid smile on his face when saw it was how you had your contact for him saved.

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[blueblossomrose]

Pairing: Fellow Honest x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fellow sees you in Playful Land with your friends, thinks you're a rich girl by the way you act and the fact that you study at Night Raven College, and tries to get money from you, only to end up falling in love.

Notice(s): Inspired by "The Lady and the Tramp", Female reader, Reader is the MC, but Yuu(ken Enma) is also here, not nsfw but slightly spicy? We kinda have a french kiss here.

Request?: No.

Notes: I refuse to call him Ernesto, except in a specific Rapunzel-like fanfic where he is Eugene.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

He could have sworn you were a rich girl. I mean, look at the way you carried yourself! Like a true lady. Eyes wide open, paying attention to everything and everyone, with a polite and kind smile on your face. Your excitement was restrained but evident. You always sat with your legs crossed.

As if your good behavior wasn't evidence enough, you were still wearing that damn uniform. Night Raven College. An elite school.

He didn't think he needed more. He has his conclusion.

Even if you are not extremely rich, some money you must have. And he will get it from you. He and Gidel need it more than you do, anyway.

He thought about how he could do this. First he had to separate you from your friends. Leave you alone with him.

Fellow approached slowly, like a predator carefully observing its prey. He adjusted his posture, donned an unassuming smile, and gave you a slight nod. He knew he needed to be strategic, charming, but not invasive. After all, winning over someone like you required delicacy.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’re enjoying our park with such enthusiasm. It’s always a pleasure to see such a charming visitor here.”

You looked at him curiously, a glint of surprise and interest dancing in your eyes. He knew he had your attention.

“Oh, yes, it’s a wonderful place!” you replied, your voice polite but with a touch of excitement. “I didn’t know it would be so much fun!”

Fellow made a gesture of slight mock indignation, placing a hand on his chest.

“Are you saying you underestimated our Playful Land? Oh, that breaks my heart!” He let out a light, relaxed laugh, as if you were already friends. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying it. By the way, let me introduce myself: I’m Fellow Honest, one of the park’s managers.”

“Manager?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. He nodded, as if carrying a weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

“Of course. Not only do I help take care of the park, but I also make sure our guests have the best experience possible. And speaking of which…” He glanced around, as if searching for something. “I noticed your friends seem a little scattered. It’s a shame to leave you alone.”

You shakes your head, showing that you were comfortable on your own. “They went to explore some attractions. I preferred to stay here for a while.”

It was exactly the break Fellow needed. He gestured with his hand, as if he were putting on a great show.

“In that case, perhaps I could be your companion? I can show you the secrets of this place that no one else knows about. After all, it’s not often we have such special guests.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. There was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that was hard to resist. “Okay, of course! Why not?”

Fellow’s smile widened, and he offered his hand, like a gentleman ready to lead her. Inwardly, he cheered. This was the first step in the plan.

But as they walked together, something unexpected began to happen. As he talked about the park, making jokes and telling charming stories, Fellow noticed something he hadn’t expected. There was something in your laughter, in the way you responded to his words, that made his heart race. It wasn’t the kind of racing that came from getting what you wanted, but something more genuine, more dangerous.

He tried to ignore it. He tried to remind himself that this was a scam, nothing more. But with every step you took together, with every smile you gave him, he felt the plan begin to slip away from his control. Why, suddenly, couldn’t he stop looking at you?

It got to the point where the two of you finally arrived at the location Fellow had so carefully planned. It was a corner in the back of a restaurant, near one of the park’s quieter attractions, where there was little traffic. Despite its modest location, the place felt cozy. String lights hung unassumingly, illuminating the space with a soft, golden glow, creating a curiously intimate atmosphere.

Fellow pulled out one of the chairs for you, giving you a slight theatrical bow as he spoke. “Milady, allow me to offer you a seat in our 'VIP area'. Not all visitors are lucky enough to experience this!”

You laughed softly at the act, accepting the chair. Fellow seemed pleased with your answer, but there was a hint of nervousness in his smile that he quickly tried to hide. He discreetly signaled to Gidel, who was hiding behind a nearby dumpster, waiting for the right moment.

As you looked around, taking in the peculiar surroundings, Fellow quickly took the chair next from you, leaning slightly closer to you. He propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand, as if he was completely absorbed by your presence.

As soon as Gidel brought the food, you couldn't help but just eat it. You liked to eat a lot, and personally you stopped holding back.

Fellow watched in shock as you shoveled a spoonful of spaghetti with meatballs into your mouth.

You ate... a lot. He was surprised to see that graceful young lady eating an entire plate so quickly, but what surprised him even more was... how charming you still looked, even with your cheeks a little stained with sauce.

“You’ve just so cute...” Fellow complimented as you ate.

"Hmm?" you lifted your head, your cheeks puffed up with food.

He chuckled, gently poking your cheek. He was quite amused by your innocent behavior. It was an endearing quality that drove him crazy. He set down his silverware and looked over at you. A smile on his face.

“You’re even more beautiful when you eat, y’know. Like a chipmunk.”

You can't help but blush, laughing awkwardly as you swallows your food. “I-Is that so?... That's so kind of you!”

“It’s honest too.” He said, almost with a wink.

You can't help but laugh at the slightly joke.

He smiled as you laughed before going back to eating his food. Every so often, his eyes would flick up to look at you. He let out a mental sigh before deciding to get cheeky. He reached over with his foot, brushing against your ankle before slowly traveling up your leg. He was testing his luck, seeing how you’d react. Would you kick him? Move away? Let it continue?

You didn't seem to take it as flirting, so you just smiled and looked at him, thinking he wanted to say something.

He wasn’t expecting you to not notice. How dense could a person be? He almost wondered if you were actually doing this on purpose. Or maybe you just don't understand indirect flirting?

He decided to test the waters a little more. He moved a little closer to you, and when you were a little more distracted, he took the cutlery out of your hands with a smooth, light pushing motion.

"Huh?" You looked at him, with some confusion.

He simply placed a finger over his lip in a shushing gesture. He set the cutlery down before grabbing a napkin. Then, with a smile, he reached over to your cheek and wiped away a small sauce stain. "What about... we try something different? In some places, it's refined to eat without cutlery..."

"Eat without cutlery?"

He gave you a sly smile as he nodded. He took off his gloves, picking up a strand of spaghetti. "Try it. I promise it's not as barbaric as you think."

You shyly picks up the end of the spaghetti and puts it in your mouth. Fellow hums in approval at your action. He leans forward a bit more as he take the other side of the spaghetti.

Fellow’s expression was sly, his eyes slightly half-lidded as he let your faces get closer. He slowly started to close the distance, using the excuse of eating the spaghetti. His face was only inches away from yours, to the point he could feel your breath on his lips.

You didn't even move away, just standing there, your breathing becoming sporadic.

He inched closer, a smug smile on his face. He got you right where he wanted. When the distance was only centimeters apart, he licked some sauce off his lips, using it as an excuse to run his tongue right over your bottom lip.

You shivered, widening your eyes.

Fellow chuckled a little when you shivered, knowing exactly what effect he was having on you. He licked his lip again, now only a few millimeters from your own.

“You taste… even better with sauce...” He mumbled out, low.

"M-Mr. Honest..." You stuttered.

His smile grew at your breathless words.

“Hm? What is it?” He teased. His tone, the way looked at you… it was like a hawk that found its prey.

"W-Why... y-you look at me like that?..."

He chuckled to himself. He moved one hand up to your cheek and cupped it gently, his thumb running over your cheek.

“Can’t you tell, darling?” He purred out. "You look like a bunny right now, you know?... and... I guess you know what foxes do with bunnies."

...

"Where the f*ck is MC?" Ace questions Yuuken as the two are heading towards the cotton candy stand to find Floyd, Jade, and Lilia.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her since the prize booth..." Yuu says thoughtfully, and soon becoming desperate. "OH MY STARS! We have to find her!" Yuu was about to run away, but then he turned back and grabbed Ace to go with him.

[dixons-sunshine]

Crushes Are For School Girls | Quarters Of The Undead

Summary: Crushes—the innocent little glances. The blushing. The butterflies. We all get them. For Georgianna, it was much more than that. The crush in question had those same butterflies, though, stealing the same innocent glances. And everyone seemed to notice…except for her.

Era: Quarry.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to sex, one sexual comment (from Merle).

Word count: 4k.

Pairings: Georgie x Daryl (unestablished); Vec x Scud (established)

A/N: Thank you, @thevegandarkelf, for helping me with the summary. You’re amazing. Anyways, I hope y’all like this!

“Why am I like this?”

“You have a crush, Ginny. It’s natural to feel this way.”

“Yeah, well crushes suck. Crushes are for school girls, not for women of my grown ass age.”

Vec chuckled as she gingerly rubbed Georgianna’s back, the woman in question being face planted into her pillow on her sleeping bag. “There, there, Gin. It’s okay. You’ll survive this.”

Despite the reassurance, Georgianna still groaned into the pillow, feeling utterly stupid about the turmoil of emotions whirring around in her being. However, the most prominent feeling was the one in her stomach, one which could only be described as butterflies. Butterflies because of something so simple. Butterflies because her hair got tucked behind her ear. Butterflies because of the man that wielded a crossbow and had become the starring attraction in her nightly dreams.

A man named Daryl Dixon.

Georgianna did not even fully understand how she had started spending time with the archer in the first place. Her tent—that she shared with both her best friend, Vec, and Vec’s boyfriend, Scud—had been set up on the outskirts of the camp, right next to those of the Dixon brothers’, so it was only natural that they would have had to converse with one another.

However, the friendship that had bloomed—and surprisingly, rather quickly, too—between Georgianna and Daryl was something completely unexpected. And the crush that Georgianna harboured on the man was also, completely, one hundred percent unexpected—to her more than anyone.

And now Vec—and sometimes Scud—had to put up with her yammering on about Daryl, and she felt rather guilty about it, because she was talking about him a lot.

The sound of the tent flap opening caught both Georgianna and Vec’s attention. Vec stood up from the ground and Georgianna rolled over and sat back up, Georgianna sent a nod in Scud’s direction, which instantly confused the man.

“Woah, what’s up with you?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Where’s the eye roll? The scoff? The ‘oh great, it’s you’? Where’s the Marianne I know and don’t love?”

Vec laughed lightly at that, before shaking her head. “She’s too lovesick to insult you today.”

Georgianna sent a glare in Vec’s direction. “Traitor,” she mouthed to her, only earning a falsely innocent smile in return.

“Ooh, okay,” Scud replied to Vec’s statement, his lips contorting up into a smirk. “So what is it about this time? His arms? His shoulders? His hands? His as—”

“Okay!” Georgianna cut him off, rolling her eyes at the laughter that tumbled out of his mouth, before shifting her attention back to Vec. “I don’t talk about him that much, do I?”

Vec hummed and shook her head. “No. Nope, not really. You pretty much talk about him the same amount I did back when I first started dating Josh.”

“Jesus, I’m that bad?” Georgianna whispered to herself, mildly horrified at that admission. “Fucking hell, I need to be put down.”

“You talked about me a lot?” Scud mused in a sickeningly lovestruck tone of voice, coming up to stand next to Vec, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

Vec rolled her eyes and lightly shoved him, not enough to do any damage. “Don’t let it go to your head,” she told him, trying to calm the heat that formed in her cheeks.

“Never,” Scud chuckled. He wrapped his arm around Vec’s shoulders and pulled her into him, before pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re so cute when you blush, y’know that?”

“Yeah? Well—”

“If you two wanna get down and dirty tonight, just let me know so that I can move my sleeping bag to someone else’s tent,” Georgianna chimed in, drawing the couple’s attention back to reality.

Scud rolled his eyes, but made no effort to remove his arm from its position around Vec. “Who would you even stay with? I thought Vec was your only friend.”

“Very funny,” Georgianna replied in a monotone voice.

“I know who would willingly offer to let her stay with them,” Vec voiced, a small, teasing smirk on her face. “I’ll give you a tip. Their name rhymes with ‘Meryl’.”

“Wow, you’re super subtle about that,” Georgianna scoffed, pushing herself up from her sleeping bag. She grabbed her pencil and sketchbook from her bag, before sending Vec a small smile. “I can offer up an hour of me being away from the tent. I’m gonna be out by the main campfire. Just stay away from my sleeping bag. I would highly prefer not to sleep next to Scud’s jizz stains tonight, thank you very much.”

The blush that coated Vec’s cheeks was bright enough to make tomatoes jealous. However, she simply nodded at her. “Thanks.”

Whether something would happen between her and Scud in that one hour, she did not know. What she did know, however, was that the younger Dixon brother was fixing up his crossbow by the campfire, with nobody else around for the time being, meaning that Georgianna and Daryl would be completely alone… It was the perfect set up.

Closing the tent flap behind her, Georgianna let out a small sigh, before making good on her words and trudging forward towards the campfire. The Hawkins woman was surprised by the lack of chatter that night. Usually, most of the adults in the camp would talk away until they absolutely had to go back to their tents. Those late night talks was something unofficially instituted to attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy in a crazy world run by the undead. However, that night, there was absolutely nobody around. It seemed like everyone had decided to turn in early that night. Well, everyone except a certain blue-eyed archer.

Georgianna did not even notice Daryl until she was standing a mere few feet away from him. Admittedly, she was so deep in thought that, had he not cleared his throat, she probably would have gone and sat right on his lap, completely unaware that the seat was otherwise occupied.

Georgianna’s eyes widened in surprise, before she schooled her expression to one of nonchalance, a friendly smile on her face. “Daryl, hi.”

The archer nudged his nose up in a half nod. “Hey, Georgie.”

The way he said her name, the gruffness that laced his tone, but mixed with a softness that was reserved purely for her—at least, if she chose to believe what Vec told her—had her weak in the knees. However, she forced herself to remain upright, refusing to make a complete fool of herself in front of the man she so desperately wished she did not have a crush on.

“Uh, mind if I sit?” she asked softly, motioning over to the chair next to him.

Daryl shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Georgianna nodded and sat down in the seat. Although this was not the first time that she had spent time with the archer, this time around, it just felt… different. She could not fully explain it.

Daryl shifted his attention back to his crossbow, fiddling with the strings as Georgianna opted to occupy her mind with her drawing. Free time became a luxury, and she truly treasured just being able to sit down and draw. She used to be able to sketch whenever, but with the world in shambles, she found herself lucky if she were able to even glance at her sketchbook once a week.

As she went about drawing, her legs curled up beneath her on the chair, Daryl took the opportunity to steal glances at her. In his mind, she truly looked ethereal in that moment. Her hair was tied up into a loose ponytail, but a few stray pieces of hair fell in wispy, curly strands in her face, acting as a curtain between her and the real world. Her brown, chocolate eyes were lightened by the glow of the campfire, giving them a more amber-like tone, and her cheeks were slightly pink, a colour that Daryl thought suited her.

God, she is gorgeous, Daryl thought to himself.

Daryl did not know exactly when he started developing feelings for the woman next to him, but he did know that his feelings were completely justified. She was damn near perfect in his eyes. She was so kind, so nice, and so goddamn considerate. She could be such a chatterbox, but whenever it came to him, she did not talk his ear off. It was like she could read his cues like the back of her hand, and she knew exactly when to back off and give him his space.

She was such a genuine person, and he could not help but feel drawn to her. Despite many attempts to put some distance between them, to withdraw himself from her until she got the hint, he just could not help it. He kept going back. She made him feel like less of a piece of garbage. She actually treated him like a human being, which is more than could be said for ninety nine percent of the other members of the group.

Realizing that he was staring at her for a beat too long, he ducked his head, instead focusing back on his crossbow. He just thanked whatever god was out there that she was too occupied with her drawing to realize his slip up.

“So,” Daryl began, surprisingly being the first one to strike up a conversation, “how long have ya been doin’ that? Drawin’, I mean.”

Georgianna looked up at him, a bright smile on her face, one that had his stomach doing somersaults. “Not long, actually. I didn’t pick up the hobby until I was twenty-five. One of my students told me once that they bet I couldn’t recreate the Mona Lisa, and I proved them wrong.”

“I bet it looked great,” Daryl replied, placing his crossbow down on the ground next to him.

“Oh, no. It looked like dog shit,” Georgianna laughed, glancing between her drawing and the man next to her. “But it was a fun challenge. It made me realize that I wanted to be able to do that, you know? Create pictures from my mind alone. So I bought myself a bunch of supplies and every nigh, before bed, I’d draw anything and everything just to get some practice in. My TV, my coffee mug, my stuffed rabbit—”

“You had a stuffed rabbit? At twenty-five?” Daryl mused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. That little piece of information was actually rather adorable.

Georgianna rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yes, I did. It was a gift from my dad when I turned nine. He…” she trailed off, her smile dimming at the thought of that awful time in her life. “He bought it for me as a way to help me cope with what happened with my—my mother.”

Daryl frowned slightly at the clear shift in the mood. The small, curious part of him wanted to ask what she was talking about, about what had happened with her mother, but the other, more logical side of him told him not to. She never pressed him for answers on anything he revealed of his life before, so he would respect that kindness she had showed him by reciprocating the sentiment.

“Yeah, I get that. The thing holds sentimental value or some bullshit like that, right?” Daryl said, attempting to lighten the mood.

Georgianna smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Some bullshit like that.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair, closing her sketchbook and letting it rest on her lap. “I wish I could have grabbed it before we left the city. It’s the one thing that can’t be replaced for me.”

Daryl hummed in acknowledgement. Not really knowing how to go about the situation, and clearly sensing that Georgianna needed a pick-me-up, he opted to change the topic. “What were ya drawin’?”

“The landscape,” Georgianna replied, motioning over to the treeline just beyond the array of tents. “The scenery is beautiful. I could get into what exactly I find beautiful, but something tells me that you’re not really into the whole “nature is a wonder” thing.”

“You’d be right ‘bout that,” Daryl chuckled. He looked back over to Georgianna, right in time to see her pull up the sleeves of her shirt, revealing something he had somehow never noticed until that point. “You have a tattoo?”

“Oh! Yes, I do,” she confirmed, twisting her body slightly to extend her arm and show him the picture permanently ingrained in her skin. “It’s a bunny tattoo.”

“From what ya told me jus’ a few moments ago, it seems pretty fittin’,” Daryl told her, leaning back in his chair. “When did ya get that?”

“About two years ago,” Georgianna replied after a moment of thinking. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo of an animal, and what better one to get than the one that holds the most sentimental value to me, right?”

“Right,” Daryl agreed with a light hum. “Ya really seem to like rabbits. So how much do ya cry when I bring dead ones back from my hunts?”

That made Georgianna laugh. The sound was like music to the archer’s ears, and Daryl felt a sense of pride knowing that he was the one that had caused it. It made him feel good about himself.

“Yes, I like rabbits, but I don’t cry when you bring dead ones back. I know that it’s vital for our survival. Their meat feeds us, but most importantly, they feed the kids. Carl, Sophia… The rabbits’ meat ensure that the kiddos don’t go to bed hungry. To me, that means that their sacrifices don’t go in vain.”

“That’s a nice way’a thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Daryl told her.

“Yeah.” She leaned back in her own chair, her chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement as she gazed at Daryl. “I guess rabbits just really mean a lot to me. As a kid, my dad would take me and my brother out camping, and he’d always take us to this place in the woods where the rabbits were just about everywhere. They did not fear humans at all. I even woke up and found a baby bunny sleeping on my legs once. It was the cutest thing ever.”

“So ya really like rabbits.” It was more of a statement than a question, but he got an answer anyway.

“I do. They bring a sense of joy to me. They remind me of some of the happiest times in my life. I know, it’s weird.”

Daryl shook his head. “Nah, ain’t nothin’ weird ‘bout that. It brings ya comfort. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

Georgianna smiled at him, a soft, genuine one. “Thank you,” she thanked him softly.

“’Course.”

The silence that fell between them was not one of discomfort. That was one thing that Daryl appreciated about the woman; the ability to sit with her in complete silence, and not have it be awkward. She knew exactly when to initiate a conversation with him, she knew exactly when Daryl preferred to sit in relative silence, and she knew exactly when he wanted to be left alone. That alone had been one of the many things that had drawn him to the woman in the first place, and he deeply appreciated her ability to read his social cues—or, well, lack thereof.

However, the silence did not last long at all. It got interrupted, and if looks could kill, Merle Dixon would be six feet under due to the glare Daryl was throwing his way.

“Holy shit, would ya look at this?” Merle laughed loudly, stumbling almost drunkenly towards the pair.

Georgianna instantly felt uncomfortable. She was a people person, but there were a select few people that she just could not bring herself to like, no matter how hard she tried; Shane Walsh, Ed Peletier, and Merle Dixon. And now the latter was ruining the serene moment that Daryl and Georgianna was having.

Wonderful, Georgianna thought to herself, pursing her lips together.

“Fuck off, Merle,” Daryl grumbled, shooting his brother a furious look. “M’not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Now s’that any way to address me in front of this hot piece’a ass, boy? Don’ embarrass me like that, lil’ brother. Not unless you want me to kick your teeth in.”

Georgianna inhaled deeply, held her breath for four seconds, before exhaling again. She was trying really hard not to lash out at the man and his vulgar comments. Despite everything, Georgianna knew how important Merle was to Daryl, and she did not want to risk losing his friendship because she had a fight with his brother, even if said brother was a complete jackass.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” Georgianna declared. She picked up her sketchbook and pencil, before getting up. “Good night, guys. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gently gripped Daryl’s shoulder in greeting, sending him one last smile, before she began stalking back towards her tent. Whether or not Vec and Scud were done doing the devil’s tango, she did not care. She wanted to faceplant into her pillow and throw the towel in for the day.

Daryl watched Georgianna’s retreating figure, his hand gingerly touching where her’s had gripped his shoulder not even ten seconds ago. Unwillingly, a small smile played on his lips, and his heart was galloping in his chest. Her touch felt so nice. Her hand was so soft, so warm. He definitely wanted to feel that again. That thought alone was rather terrifying.

Daryl got snapped from his thoughts by the sound of Merle’s loud, obnoxious voice, and he seriously wanted to punch his brother in that moment. “Jus’ shut up, Merle,” he mumbled, getting up from the chair, picking up his crossbow, and making his way over to his tent.

When Georgianna got back to the tent, she was surprised to find the tent flap already open. When she stepped into the material shelter, she was even more surprised to see Vec sitting upright in her sleeping bag, Scud laying on his back next to her, both pairs of eyes looking at her expectantly.

“So, how’d it go?” Vec asked in a sing-song voice, pushing her glasses up her nose when they slipped off a bit.

Georgianna, choosing to play dumb, frowned at her. “How’d what go?”

Vec scoffed at her. “Babe, please. We’ve been friends since before we could even talk. I know that look. Now spill.”

Georgianna rolled her eyes and sighed over dramatically. “Fine, fine.” She dropped her sketchbook and pencil onto her bag on the floor, kicked her shoes off and dropped down onto her sleeping bag, before sitting up and facing her best friend. “Before you ask, no. Nothing romantic happened. We just talked.”

“You hear that, Vee? They just talked,” Scud chimed in. He pushed himself to sit upright so that he could properly see Georgianna, a smirk on his face. “We,” he began, motioning between him and Vec, “started off just talking, too. Look at us today.”

“Well, Joshua, I’m not Vec, and Daryl most certainly isn’t you, thank god.”

Scud scoffed at that. “Yeah, thank god. Wouldn’t want two completely awesome me’s runnin’ around.”

“Then the camp would descend into complete and utter chaos. Then Deputy Dick would really hate us,” Georgianna quipped, before sighing. “Nothing happened between us, guys. I swear, we just talked. He asked me about my drawing, and then we talked about my love of rabbits. That’s all. Merle cut us off after that.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” Vec exclaimed, a groan leaving her. “Fucking idiot. Just had to go and ruin the build up to the first kiss. God, I hate him.”

“Woah, woah, woah. You just skipped a million chapters ahead. Even if he didn’t interrupt, there most definitely would not have been a first kiss.” Georgianna looked down at her hands, a frown tugging at her eyebrows. “I doubt there ever will be a first kiss. I doubt Daryl even likes me like that.”

That made Vec spring into motion. She got up from her sleeping bag—after a bit of protest from Scud, but she quickly shushed him—and plopped herself down next to her best friend. She took Georgianna’s face into her hands and gently forced her chocolate brown eyes to meet her ocean-coloured ones, a serious, no nonsense look in their depths.

“Georgianna Marianne Hawkins, I’m gonna need you to listen to me very closely. I know you didn’t say it outright, but I know what’s whirring around in that pretty head of yours. There is absolutely, positively, one hundred percent, fuck all wrong with you. You’re an ethereal, amazing, goddamn goddess, and he would be lucky to have you. Anyone would be lucky to have you. In fact, I would be surprised if he didn’t want you. I wish you could see what I do. Daryl Dixon is down bad for you.”

“She’s right, y’know,” Scud chipped in. “His eyes follow you when you’re not looking. He thinks he’s being discreet, but the Scudster is amazin’ at pickin’ up stuff like that. That’s a look of enamour if I ever saw one.”

“See?” Vec asked. “He likes likes you, Babe. I promise.”

Georgianna really wanted to believe them. She really did. However, she just couldn’t. The friendship, albeit a relatively new one—barely over two months—she shared with Daryl was just too precious to risk. The crossbow-wielding archer was not particularly known for his openess towards befriending people in the camp. Georgianna had been the only outlier, and if she decided to make a move and it ended up being something he did not want, the friendship could potentially be ruined.

No, she did not want to risk that.

She gingerly removed Vec’s hands from her face, a rather sad smile gracing her features. “Maybe y’all are right. I’ll… I’ll think about it, okay?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Scud, the man in question laying back down, but Vec knew better. She frowned at Georgianna, and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“That didn’t make you feel better, did it?”

Georgianna glanced at Scud, before looking back at Vec. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Give you the whole run down on my emotions and shit.”

Vec slowly nodded. “I’m keeping you to that.”

Vec lightly ruffled Georgianna’s hair, laughing lightly when the woman swatted her hand away, before crawling back over to her sleeping bag a few feet away from her best friend’s.

The three inhabitants of the dark blue tent started settling in for the night. Vec cuddled up next to Scud after exchanging one last kiss with him for the night, before taking her glasses off and setting them down on the makeshift table. Scud’s eyes were already closed by the time Vec was completely settled down.

Despite the little fire in the lamp that illuminated the tent being turned off, sleep did not come instantly for Georgianna. Her thoughts were running free in her head. Georgianna hated crushes. On the rare occasions that she got them, she always got them hard. She wished that she had the ability to keep her feelings under control. She wished that she was not so insecure about relationships. She wished that she felt confident enough to make a move and see where everything went from there. And above all else, she wished that she could suppress her growing feelings towards the younger Dixon brother.

As she slowly drifted off into the welcoming depths of slumber, those thoughts drifted from her mind, instead being replaced by a dream her brain had carefully crafted to bring her some release from her inner turmoil. As sleep finally overcame her, Georgianna laid completely still, blissfully unaware of the fact that in the tent closest to theirs, Daryl Dixon was still wide awake, fighting a losing battle against his own steadily growing feelings, his mind being plagued by images of the woman he cared for more than he had wanted to.

Georgie belongs to me.

Vec belongs to @thevegandarkelf.

Quarters Of The Undead Taglist: @holdmytesseract @weirdoneattheparty @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin

You can reach out to me or Taylor to be added/removed from the taglist. We’ll let the other one know about it so that both taglists stay one in the same.

©dixons-sunshine and thevegandarkelf 2024. We do not give permission for our works for this AU to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of our given consent.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Dom!reader x sub!scarlettela

Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names

I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T

!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it

He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!

So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.

Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.

There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.

Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.

While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.

As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”

God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say it him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.

“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understood. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.

Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”

You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyes, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.

He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.

Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.

“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.

A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.

Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.

Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”

Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.

“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.

And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.

A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.

“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎～” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.

“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF～ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.

Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.

“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.

He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!

Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡～” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?

My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of hi trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.

You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.

After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”

You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.

He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.

The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yanked on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.

[skzhocomments]

hiii! so i saw your post about the prompts so a random number i would say 81 with hyunjin

thank you 🫶🏻

General Masterlist

Request me a story

Thank you for your request ♥

---

Writing Prompt 81 - A prince sleeps with the pirate captain to get them out of the city AU - Hyunjin

Word count: 4.7k words

Wattpad | AO3

~

Writing Prompt 81: A prince sleeps with the pirate captain to get them out of the city AU – Hyunjin

~

“So, how much longer until we’d get to the Capital?” Seraphine asks, her eyes burning with excitement, auburn as her hair.

“We’re almost there, Captain. Should be getting there in about 3 days’ time. If not for this storm…” One of her subordinates – Felix – answers, briefly glancing outside through the small round window in Seraphine’s cabin.

“It’s fine. We’ve sailed on rougher waters. Ah, I can’t wait to see the Capital. They say it’s the most beautiful city in the continent. I can already picture us roaming around and taking everything we deserve. Do you think ships can sink from too much gold on board?” She chuckles with amusement.

“I doubt it, Miss.” Felix chuckles.

“I’ve heard the Capital is famous for their rare spices. Saffron and anise are native to this part of the continent, after all. We need to make sure to get our hands on them to get even richer once we live this place.” Seraphine contemplates out loud.

“We’re not even there yet and you’re already thinking of what to do when we leave.”

“Why, of course! I need to know what our next move is, always.”

“That’s why we’ve chosen you to be Captain, Miss.”

“Anyway.” She waves her hand around dismissively. “Any news on the imperial navy? I hope those plans still stand and we’d be able to get to the port without any fights.”

“I hope so too.” He chuckles. “They shouldn’t be stationed near the port unless they’ve discovered it. It’s quite stressful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But we need to do this, Lix.”

“I know…” Felix looks away briefly. “We’ll take our revenge, don’t worry. Those bastards will pay for what they did to our families.”

“We’ll make sure of that.” Seraphine nods.

“I’m afraid we’re biting off more than we can chew, though…” He hesitates.

“I’m not. This is what we’ve prepared for our whole lives, Felix.” She reassures him, and both of them stay in silence as the ship goes through the large waves, passing through the thunderstorm.

~

Fortunately, the pirate ships arrived at the secret port safely, and all the plans Seraphine’s father made were still actual.

It’s the perfect moment to strike, when news of the King falling ill started spreading throughout the continent. Seraphine knows this is the best time to cause havoc and steal to her heart’s content, to take back just a little bit of what the Kingdom took away from her family.

Her father used to be a simple man, working on fishing boats to bring in the Capital’s largest supply of fresh seafood, and, if lucky, of oysters and pearls. He was an honest, respectable worker, always on time to deliver the goods no matter the season, but although he was respected throughout the Capital, he was still just that. A regular man.

His demise was falling in love with a woman. Seraphine’s mother was part of one of the most elite families of the Kingdom, who, of course, would’ve never accepted a poor man dating, let alone marrying one of their daughters.

Her father fought tooth and nail for their love, and so did Seraphine’s mother, but when she fell pregnant out of wedlock, her family turned their backs on her and started interfering with his work. He got fired in no time, and no matter where he’d try to find a job to feed his pregnant girlfriend, he would get rejected.

Her mother was faced with two choices: give birth to the baby and give it away in order to be allowed back into her family – although her chances of marrying a reputable man were non-existent to say the least, considering her past history – or give up on her life as nobility and struggle. She chose the latter.

With no job in sight and a family to feed, Seraphine’s father had to resort to critical measures. He began working off the books on a couple of smaller ships, and when even that failed to bring in enough gold, he had to do something else. He found a band of pirates willing to take him in due to his experience on the sea.

He became part of their crew in no time and things were good for a while. Despite fighting his principles of being honest, he embraced his new lifestyle of stealing and smuggling goods in and out of the Capital. The happiness didn’t last much, though, because when the King found out of all the misdemeanours caused by the pirates, he banished them all from the Capital. He was forced to run away with Seraphine’s mother, who was 8 months pregnant at the time.

Times were rough, and the seas were even rougher. With no proper care and no possibility to access any type of healthcare on land, Seraphine’s mother died giving birth to her, and her father, blinded by grief, swore on his life that he will take revenge on everyone who turned their backs on them: the nobility, the Kingdom… he swore to come back one day and wreck as much of the Capital as he could.

Grief is a way too profound emotion… it wraps time. Her father got stuck in this never-ending circle of hatred, his life ambition becoming solely taking revenge. He ended up becoming Captain of the pirates and grew their riches as much as he could, in order to ensure having a formidable fleet to return secretly to the Capital.

He planned and planned for years, each crew member aware of his schemes and totally on board, as all of them held a grudge against the nobility. They all shared similar stories, similar fates.

However, life is sometimes way too short to fulfil all your plans, and Seraphine’s father ended up losing his after an on-going battle with a mysterious sickness that rendered him bed-ridden in the last years of his life.

Even after he was gone, the pirates’ hatred still remained, and his ambitions lived on. Seraphine ended up following in her father’s steps, becoming the youngest Captain this band of pirates has ever had, and ever since, they’ve began crafting their plan together, building from where her father left off.

They would start slow, a couple of petty thefts here and there, until they’d make their way to the larger businesses and burn them to the ground.

The plan was almost flawless, and with the pirates finally back in the Capital after more than 20 years away, they were ready to execute it. It’d be the biggest they’d ever strike.

~

“Feels good to step on land after so many months.” Seraphine exclaims, stretching her limbs.

“Right? Ahh, I missed it.” Felix smiles sincerely. “I can’t believe we’re finally here.”

“Don’t go too far, Lix. You and I need to stay near the ships, alright?”

“Got it, Miss!” Felix reassures, but still ends up disappearing after a while.

He’s always been a curious child, Seraphine knows, and even if he is already 24, he still acts childish, unfit for his age.

She could never blame him for it, though. The only thing they've ever known was how to live on a ship, so the Capital is bound to be interesting enough and make him want to explore to his heart's content.

~

Thanks to the secret port her father informed them of, all their ships were safely anchored, giving the pirates the opportunity to go in the Capital as they pleased.

And so, they did. In just a few weeks, they stole goods and food, jewellery, and so much gold, they could simply go back to the seas and starts anew in another Kingdom. Seraphine’s eyes sparkle at the thought of all the gold they’ve taken, and she is truly impressed with her people.

However, she is quite surprised that the imperial army is finding it so hard to find the culprits and the reason of their economy plummeting, and she vaguely remembers her father’s warnings that the King is truly sharp, and he’d figure out quickly. With them still able to be in the Capital almost a month after they arrived, she realises that the rumours must be true. He must’ve truly fallen sick.

~

“Miss, the imperial army has discovered the port.” Felix rushes in her cabin as Seraphine is admiring the jewels they’ve managed to steal so far.

“Took them long enough.” She chuckles.

“What will we do?” He is anxiously pacing back and forth. “They brought this letter-”

“Let me see.” She snatches it from his hand and notices the imperial seal.

Opening it hastily, she lets out a laugh.

“What?” Felix asks with a chuckle.

“They apparently don’t want to fight us. They must be afraid we’d make a fool out of them. They proposed a treaty.”

“Really?!” He gasps.

“Let me write a reply and invite the King here.” She laughs again and begins drafting a reply. “If they want to talk us out of the Capital so badly, let’s meet them.”

She writes a list of demands for the King that she doubts would be met. 5000 gold coins – enough money to last them for generations – a couple of jewels, permits to enter the Capital whenever they pleased and the opportunity to trade honestly, without stealing, and most importantly an apology. She feels like everything they’ve caused so far throughout the Capital is enough, but she doubts the pirates’ negative feelings are settled.

An apology from the King would suffice, maybe.

She hands Felix the envelope, and to her surprise, another letter comes the very next day, with the royals accepting a negotiation.

~

“Miss, the King is not here. His son is.” Felix informs her, making her raise an eyebrow.

“The prince?" She asks, and Felix nods. "Alright. Let’s do this.” She stands up. “Guide him here. No guards.”

She is once again surprised that they accepted this rule when she sees the Prince step inside her chambers. He is either a fool or willing to grant her everything she’s asked for. She shall see.

“Hello.” He smiles shortly as he enters, and the first thing Seraphine notices about him is his beauty. He looks elegant and proud, and she’s never seen anyone look this good before.

She’s used to people looking rough. This man, however, is the exact opposite. He looks like the prince you’d read about in fairytales, his black hair styled to perfection, his clothes immaculately white and gold, and his crown steadily on top of his head.

Truly a sight to behold that takes her breath away momentarily. However, she must represent her people, so she won’t stray away, no matter how handsome this man looks like.

“Good day.” Seraphine smiles as well, showing him to a chair. Of course, she doesn’t bow. He might be a royal, but he is on her ship, so she holds the most power.

She almost wants to ask him to bow to her instead, but this thought brings a chuckle to her lips, so she refrains from making such demands.

“I’m a busy man, so I’ll get straight to the point.”

“Not so fast.” She laughs. “What’s your name? I must know who I’m speaking to.”

“Hwang Hyunjin.” The Prince speaks. “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“So proper.” She chuckles yet again. “Name’s Seraphine. Now that we got acquainted, please, go ahead. I’m all ears.”

“We’ve analysed your… proposal. And we’re willing to meet some of them, to a certain point.”

“Which is?”

“2000 gold instead of 5000. You’re asking for an absurd sum. Besides, I’m quite certain you’ve already gotten more than enough jewels to sell abroad, considering by what you’re currently wearing.” Hyunjin points to her neck and arms, adorned with multiple necklaces with various precious gems that sparkle brightly even in the dim light of her cabin.

She intentionally decided to dress up for this meeting: a short skirt and a ruffled white blouse with a generous neckline, jewels all over her body – not only around her neck, but also on her thighs, ankles and wrists – just to show him how much they’ve taken, and to send the message that they could take so much more.

“Hmm…” She contemplates. “I shall think about it. What else?”

“The passes for the Capital… I am unable to grant you that. A pass means freedom to conduct business, as you are aware, but a bunch of thieves shouldn’t have that.” He replies with a fake smile, his words spitting poison.

“Thieves?” Seraphine laughs once more. “Hyunjin, darling, almost every person on board my ship used to be an honest working member of your Kingdom. But your father, who, as I can see, hasn’t bothered to grace us with his presence today, made sure that none of them can call this place home anymore. I am simply asking you for the rights you’ve taken away from us. Some of my people still have families they’ve been unable to meet due to this… ostracising by your father.”

“My dear,” he counters, “as you might be aware since you’ve struck at the perfect time, the King is gravely ill. Our Kingdom needs stability, which is why I’ve even considered some of your ridiculous demands. I’d say you should accept them. We’re giving you much more than you deserve, anyway.”

“Hyunjin, let’s not be rash.” She smiles. “It’s clear to me that we are in a very interesting power imbalance here. You’ve come here to ask for my help, to leave your city alone. I am willing to do just that. I don’t want anything to do with your rotten Capital. However, for my crew, I am willing to turn a blind eye from everything you’ve done, as long as you give them the opportunity to come back here if they wish.”

“Seraphine, don’t fool yourself, please. My army could defeat all of you in just a couple of days. Do you really want a blood bath? I am willing to apologise to your crew on behalf of my father. This is why I decided to come here unguarded in the first place. However, be rational. We can’t possibly give you that sum of money, jewels, and on top of that, passes to the Capital. You can pick those that are the most valuable to you and your crew, and I shall promise you in return that no blood will be shed unnecessarily.”

“Who knew such a pretty mouth could spew so much bullshit?” She stands up and walks towards him. “Hyunjin, darling, you’re the soon-to-be king of this Kingdom. You can give me anything, can’t you?” She asks cunningly, a smirk adorning her lips.

“As long as you keep things rational, I could. But just so you know, the fact that I came here in the first place goes against everything I’ve been advised. I want to rule differently, not through war and endless battles. Let us not fight, dear. Leave my city quietly, won’t you?”

He doesn’t move at all in his chair as she approaches him, his confidence quite alluring.

“Let’s do it a bit differently, then. You will give my people passes to the Capital, and instead of giving me gold and jewels, how about…”

Seraphine raises her hand and touches his crown, slowly taking it off Hyunjin’s head.

To her surprise, he lets her do whatever she pleases, so she doesn’t hesitate to put it on her own head.

“This should sell for a pretty penny somewhere.” She finishes, leaning back and supporting her weight against her desk.

Hyunjin stands up and grabs her hand, looking into her eyes, and she feels a rush travel throughout her body at the sudden touch.

“My crown?” He laughs.

She straightens her back and faces him properly, their bodies so close, she can feel his breath on her lips.

“Mhm. I’ve always liked gold and beautiful jewels, and your crown has just that. It’s so pretty, darling.”

Hyunjin smirks and leans in closer, whispering in her ear.

“As long as you give me your word that you’d stop terrorizing my people, I could give you so much, dear. Even if you are a thief, I’m certain your word weighs something.”

She looks up and meets his eyes once more, placing her hands on his collar and holding tightly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He warns.

“Hyunjin, you might be a prince, but your rules don’t apply on my ship.” She smirks. “I have more power than you in this very moment, you should know.”

Touching royals is prohibited, but she couldn’t care less about their meaningless rules that only work in their favour. She dislikes inequality. Even if she is the Captain of her ships, they’ve always treated each other as equals, and everyone is deserving of respect no matter their status.

“You’re quite outspoken. As expected of a pirate.” Hyunjin replies, smirking himself.

“And you’re quite confident, as expect of a royal.” She scoffs.

“You know, if the crown wouldn’t suit you that well, I would’ve been quite upset by this blatant disrespect. However, I can’t help but notice your beauty, dear Seraphine.”

“Oh, my. I’m flattered.” She jokes. “You don’t look so bad yourself, prince.”

“So, what will it take after all to get you out of my Kingdom, sweetheart?”

“Are you trying to flirt with me to get me to leave?” She lets out a chuckle. “It’s not gonna work, sweetheart. I’ve told you my updated terms. Passes and an official apology for my people and this crown. You can keep your gold and jewellery. See? I’m willing to negotiate with you.”

“Is that so?” He chuckles. “Does it give you a rush of power to wear my crown? I bet it feels really good.” As he says this in a menacing tone, he brings his face even closer, making a jolt travel through Seraphine’s body.

He is way too close, intoxicatingly close, and despite the fact that they are enemies, she can’t deny the effect he apparently has on her body. But still, she didn’t come here to play, and besides hatred and possible desire, there’s no other feelings between them.

“It does, I won’t lie. Is this how you feel when you wake up in the morning and put it on your pretty head? Do you spend a lot of time in front of the mirror admiring yourself?” She mocks, making sure to use the same condescending tone he’s been using by calling her pet names.

Hyunjin doesn’t move away. On the contrary, he stays close, putting his hands on top of hers that are still on his collar, forcing her to let go of his clothes. He guides her hands down and keeps holding onto her fists as he looks her in the eyes with the same determination she’s showing him.

“Why, is this what you’re going to do every day if I give you my crown?” He chuckles. “And here I thought you wanted to sell it, beautiful.”

“I don’t know, Hyunjin. It might give me a rush, but do you know what truly makes me delighted? The thought of all the money I’ll make once I sell these jewels I’ve stolen.”

As she says this, she snatches her hand away from his and brings it to her neck, making sure to drag her fingers deliberately slowly over the golden necklace right on top of her décolletage.

Hyunjin’s eyes follow her movements closely, as the hand that previously rested on top of hers finds its way to her waist.

“Passes for a handful of your people – not all of them – and my apology.” He speaks, his eyes darting back to hers.

“A handful of them?”

“The ones that directly attacked the Capital won’t be allowed to stay here. I hope you understand my reasoning, but no one would feel comfortable knowing that they’re trading with a bunch of pirates that previously stole their goods.”

Seraphine thinks long and hard for a few moments. Despite having an advantage over Hyunjin, she knows that this wouldn’t last much longer. She is still facing the most powerful army of the continent, and it’s a surprise that Hyunjin wanted to talk in the first place.

If they were to fight the imperial army, they might win a few battles, but at what cost? They would eventually end up losing everything they worked for, and God knows they’ve already caused a lot of damage, even more than they were initially expected.

Being a leader is tough, and although Seraphine wants to believe in her people’s victory over everything else, she must be realistic. They’ve already gotten way more than they hoped for.

Being a leader means knowing when to back down.

“… Fine.” She says after a while. “Passes for some of my people and an apology sounds reasonable enough.”

“I knew we would eventually see eye to eye.” He smiles.

“And your crown.” Seraphine adds, Hyunjin’s expression becoming more amused.

“No.” He shakes his head. “A kiss.”

“A kiss?” She laughs in disbelief. “I don’t want that from you, Hyunjin.”

“Seraphine, with how you’ve been looking at me for the past thirty minutes, I’d say you’re right. You’d like way more than that, wouldn’t you?”

He moves the hand from her waist up, until he cups her right breast, and with his other hand still holding onto her fist, he raises her arm and guides it around his neck.

“Says you, who’s been invading my personal space for the past 10 minutes.” She laughs.

“You don’t seem to mind.” Hyunjin counters.

“It seems to me you’re the one who’s hoping for that kiss.” Seraphine smirks cunningly. “And with how comfortable you seem to be touching me, tell me, prince, should I give it to you?”

Hyunjin chuckles, and everything happens swiftly. His mouth falls on Seraphine’s, who’s kissing him back and bringing him closer, her fingernails digging in the skin of his nape.

He lets out a soft moan as she bites his bottom lip, his hands moving to her waist to raise her on the desk. It’s not the most comfortable place to make out on, but it provides enough comfort to allow Hyunjin to press his upper body against her even closer as their kiss deepens.

He places one of his hands firmly against her thigh, right on top of her jewellery, and squeezes tightly.

Seraphine gets slightly frustrated with how difficult it is to take the Prince’s clothes off – the million buttons she has to undone, which she feels are so unnecessary. Why does the nobility want to dress up so proper, she wonders?

In contrast, her ruffled blouse is quick to fly off her body, leaving her naked and exposed, if not for the many necklaces and jewels adorning her chest.

“My darling, you are indeed a beautiful pirate princess.” Hyunjin breaks the kiss to admire her as she leans back on the desk.

“Oh, yeah?” She chuckles. “Why don’t you do your duty and kneel in front of this princess, then?”

The power dynamics strikes her once more, giving her another rush as Hyunjin kneels down in front of her, raising her skirt and removing her panties slowly.

He begins kissing his way up her thighs, spreading her legs apart and connecting his mouth to her core, licking stripes skilfully as she rolls her head back and moans.

“My fucking God, you’re sweet.” He compliments, revelling in her taste, his tongue drawing circles on her bundle of nerves, listening to her hurried breaths and making sure to give her pleasure.

“You’re quite good with words, who knew you’d be so good with your tongue, too?” She compliments back, when his tongue moves inside her opening, preparing her for what’s to come.

“Do you like my tongue that much, pirate? Will you let go for me?”

“It takes more than that to make me come, Prince.” She chuckles lowly. “Why don’t you come over here and show me what else you’re capable of?”

“So demanding.” He laughs. “I shall.”

He stands straight and unbuckles his belt, removing his white trousers and taking out his hardened dick. He doesn’t hesitate to press it against her pussy, making her lick her lips in anticipation, and with a swift motion, he bottoms out into her.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans. “You take me so well though.”

“Come on, Hyunjin, don’t stall.” She commands, and with another chuckle, Hyunjin listens and begins setting a steady pace, moving his hips perfectly to graze her sweet spot with each push of his cock inside of her.

“Shouldn’t feel this good.” Hyunjin closes his eyes shut, trying his hardest not to cum first, but Seraphine is sure making it difficult with her nails scratching his arms softly.

“It does, though.” She affirms, letting out a moan as she feels herself getting closer. “Keep that up, will you? I’m almost- oh, God!” She exclaims letting her head fall back once more, welcoming the bliss of orgasm.

Seeing this beautiful sight, Hyunjin can’t hold back any longer, and he ends up releasing himself with a final push and a loud groan.

As he separates himself from her, he pulls her up to kiss her one last time before both of them start getting dressed.

“I think it’s time to sign on your promises, Prince.” Seraphine says, her breath still hurried and her cheeks slightly flushed.

She stands up and grabs a piece of paper, beginning to draft a contract between her and the Prince. She makes sure to include every term they’ve spoken about – except for the crown, which she realises was a way too big power play – and when both parties seem satisfied, Hyunjin signs and stamps his seal.

“I believe an apology is due. Bring out your crew on the deck.”

They both exit the room together, moment when Hyunjin’s guards and Felix run to them.

“Negotiations took longer than expected. I was almost about to barge in.” Felix says, his face worried, but noticing Seraphine’s mild expression, he grows calm.

“Felix, please bring out everyone, the Prince has an announcement to make.”

~

Keeping true to his word, Hyunjin apologizes in front of everyone on behalf of his father, and informs Seraphine’s crew that they are welcome in the Kingdom, as long as they give their word to stop causing havoc.

To her surprise, her people’s hearts are settled with this, and most of her crew decides to reject the offer of staying in the Kingdom for good. However, knowing that they are welcomed back whenever, they thank the Prince for his consideration and bow to their Captain, pledging loyalty and thanking her for making this possible.

“So, I guess this is it.” Hyunjin turns to Seraphine. He wants to grab her hand and touch her one last time, however, with so many eyes on them, he refrains to do so, but she is able to read some sort of longing in his eyes that she can’t quite put her finger on.

“Let us never see each other again, then.” She nods with a sweet smile, grateful that she finally completed her father’s mission.

She is finally a free woman, devoid of any obligations.

She is free.

“Will you ever come back?” Hyunjin asks, his tone slightly hopeful.

“Why, do you think you’ll miss me?” She chuckles. “I thought you said I should leave this city and never return.”

“Well… I did say that. However, in case you decide to visit the Capital again… you know where to find me.”

“Should I request an audience to meet His Highness, then?” She smirks.

“No.” He shakes his head. “This shall suffice.”

With these words, he takes off his crown and places it on top of her head, leaving her speechless.

“If you don’t sell this, showing it to my guards should be enough. They’ll know you’re not a foe.”

“Thank you, Prince. I shall think about not selling it, then.”

They smile briefly before they both nod at each other, and with this, Hyunjin takes his leave.

Seraphine turns to her crew with a genuine smile adorning her lips, and addresses them warmly. These people decided to follow her, to trust her, and to stay by her side even if the Prince offered them a place in the Kingdom, which she couldn’t be more grateful for.

“It’s time for us to go. Our job here is done.”

~

As her crew prepares for departure, Seraphine rests her hands on her ship’s railing, watching the vast sea that awaits them with awe.

She wonders if she will ever come back, if she will ever see Hyunjin again, and she thinks about the crown resting in her treasures chest where she locked it securely.

She doesn’t think she will have the heart to sell it, after all.

~The End~

[nyx-knacks-writes]

Be More Careful, Okay?

Based off of @princeloww's idea of Alec and Campbell being uncle and nephew. I think Alec is a tad out of character here, but I saw this prompt by @prompt-dealer and had an image of Campbell being chased by an angry Alec, and I couldn't resist. No spoilers for either Broadchurch or Takin' Over the Asylum, and none for princeloww's The Never-Ending Sky, either. This is just my little idea of something that could occur if Campbell were to end up in Alec's care. I take zero credit for the idea of Campbell and Alec living together and zero credit for the prompt.

“I’m too young to die!”

“Young ain’t got nothin’ to do with it!”

Alec chased Campbell around the house, literally around the outside of the house, yelling obscenities and threatening—well, Campbell didn’t exactly know what he was threatening, but chances were high that it wasn’t good. Nature of a threat, after all.

Truth be told, Alec also didn’t know what he was threatening. He’d figure that out later. However, he did know that Campbell was in deep trouble. Trouble so deep that he wasn’t exactly sure how to punish the boy. Especially given that Campbell wasn’t even his son. So round and round they went, both yelling and trying not to slip on wet grass that would surely yank their feet out from under them at the first opportunity, causing an impromptu meeting with the cold, wet, muddy ground. 

The first offense had been the shirts. Campbell had had good intentions, really. He’d come home early from school on Monday, seen that the bathroom laundry hamper was full, and decided he’d do a load of washing to help his uncle. What a lovely nephew he was, right? Right? Wrong. Despite his best efforts to sort the colored clothing from the whites and the darks, he’d missed a pair of socks. A pair of red socks. A pair of brand-new red socks the exact color of a freshly washed fire engine gleaming in the summer sun. The shirts had come out pink. Oops. When Alec finally got to see the result of his nephew’s good intentions, he’d simply sighed and shaken his head. No sense in getting mad. He could probably do with some new shirts anyway. He’d donate the pink ones to a charity shop in town. Yeah, yeah, “real men wear pink” and all that, but what was he supposed to do? Like it or not, pink was still very much thought of as a feminine color. He could only imagine the abuse he’d suffer at the hands of his coworkers if he came in wearing a pink shirt. Big, bad DI Hardy in pink? Unthinkable. So he’d donated the old shirts, added a shopping trip to his weekend plans, and obtained the new white shirts that he preferred. A little hit to the wallet, but ultimately, no lasting harm done.

The second offense had been the soup. After the Sandbrook case had finally been solved and closed, Miller had insisted Alec start taking better care of himself and get a hobby. So what did he choose but learning to cook, which would satisfy both her demands? Ever the efficient one, wasn’t he? However, some dishes required a couple of extra hands for the sake of timing, so he would recruit Daisy and/or Campbell, depending on the day and on who was around, to help him out in the kitchen. On Tuesday, he’d needed both of them. It was going to be pumpkin soup for dinner that night, since it had been so cold and rainy, and Alec had asked Campbell to add the cream, nutmeg, salt, and pepper to the pot while he began pureeing vegetables a few cups at a time and Daisy helped him to avoid overloading the food processor. Four teaspoons of nutmeg would do it. However, when Alec caught sight of the little container of nutmeg on the counter after putting the soup back onto the stove to simmer, there was no teaspoon in sight. Instead, there was a tablespoon with a suspicious coating of brown powder sitting only an inch or so away.

“Campbell,” he’d asked slowly, “how much nutmeg did ye put in the soup?”

“Four tablespoons,” Campbell answered, looking up from the knife he was washing. “Why?”

Alec cursed, cut the gas, and put the soup pot on the stove’s back burner.

“Nutmeg is poisonous in high quantities,” he said. “The recipe called for four teaspoons, not tablespoons. If we eat that, we’ll end up in hospital.” He sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair, debating on chastising Campbell versus just letting it go. ‘Try to read it a bit more carefully next time, aye?” he eventually said as Campbell made a point to look anywhere else but at his uncle’s eyes. “Anyone have suggestions for dinner tonight? Looks like we’ll be doing takeaway.”

The next day, Campbell really did wind up in the hospital. Not for ignoring his uncle’s warning about the soup, but instead for a skateboard accident. It had been something of an impulse buy on Campbell’s part, and while he was getting to be rather good when it was dry, he’d not yet practiced when it was wet. He’d missed the bus to school in the morning, pondered what to do, and instead of calling a friend or his uncle or even Ellie Miller, he’d decided that the best possible way to rectify this problem was to attempt to skateboard to school and ask to leave the board in the office until the end of the day. He’d load up his backpack, throw on a rain jacket, hop on the board, and sail off into the morning light, perfectly balanced and confident that as long as he was careful, nothing would go wrong. 

What actually happened was that he rolled out with all his things, made it about halfway to the building, hydroplaned on a small hill, and ate dirt. Great. One ambulance ride, a thorough wound-washing, a chunk of chin and six stitches later, he was sitting in a hospital bed as Alec chewed him out for being irresponsible and not just calling for help or walking to school instead of getting on a set of wheels that had not been properly tested for mildly inclement weather. Not that he could be too hard on the boy. His intentions (get to school without inconveniencing anyone) had been good, and the fall, given its consequences, had really been punishment enough for poor Campbell. He looked like he’d expected a bowl of cherries and gotten a cherry bomb instead: a little confused and a lot regretful. Like he was contemplating the choices in his life that had brought him to this moment. 

Thursday had been blessedly normal. No blood, no pink shirts, no ruined meals. Normal ride to school, normal day, normal ride home. He didn’t even have homework for once in his school career! Maybe he was in the clear! Maybe his little bad-luck streak was over!

And then on Friday he inadvertently dyed his uncle’s hair a bright teal. What he wanted to do was put a teal streak in his own hair. It had been something he’d been thinking about for a while, and after having such a rough week, he figured that it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d spent the afternoon in and out of the bathroom, making sure he was doing it right and not dying the whole house at the same time, and it had come out beautifully! Not a drop anywhere but in his hair, nice clean stripe, absolutely gorgeous. His one mistake? Leaving the bottle in the shower. When he’d gone to rinse out the excess dye, he’d taken the bottle into the shower with him to check the instructions for how to properly care for the freshly dyed hair. When he was all set, he’d left it there. And what did his poor, unsuspecting uncle do when he went to wash his hair later that night? He grabbed the dye bottle instead of the shampoo. And what did he see when his hair finally dried? Bright teal. Everywhere. All over his head. No missing it. Thus leading to the lovely game of ring-around-the-house. It was a little childish, yeah, but Campbell hadn’t been sure what his uncle was going to do with him when the newly teal-headed man had stormed into the living room with murder in his eyes. The options had been limited, so Campbell chose to run. 

Uncle and nephew made the oval at least four times over, pushing Alec’s pacemaker to the limit, before Alec finally stopped seeing red and had the bright idea to simply wait for Campbell to come back around again. He snagged at his nephew’s hood when the opportunity presented itself and pulled the boy against his chest. 

“Campbell, I . . . why?” Alec asked helplessly, wind going out of his sails. “I know ye’ve had a tough time adjusting here, but why?”

“I didnae mean to!” Campbell squawked. “I left the dye in the shower by accident, I swear!”

“I know ye didnae mean to, I’m asking ye why ye haven’t been more careful! Two out of the last five days ye’ve injured or nearly killed yerself, an’ I just want to know why!”

Alec stopped for a moment, released a breath, and let it go. 

“Look, I know ye’re not happy to be here. I know nothing’s the same and ye’re not even with yer mum and da anymore. I’m worried about ye. Please, just . . . I need ye to be more careful. That’s all. That’s why I’m upset. Now please, let’s stop these Looney Tunes shenanigans an’ go back inside. It’s too cold an’ wet to be out at this time of night.”

Campbell stopped to consider that for a moment, and Alec realized what he’d said. However, the apology wasn’t halfway out of his mouth before Campbell cracked a grin.

“But I am a looney.” 

“Campbell—”

“How can ye expect me no’ to engage in Looney Tunes shenanigans when I am, in fact, a looney?”

“Campbell—”

“In fact, you ought to be thankful that I don’t engage in more Looney Tunes shenanigans just to spite ye! In fact—!”

“Campbell!”

The boy in question stopped talking, but his grin didn’t fade even a little.

“Yes?”

“Inside. Please.”

And so, the pair trooped to the door in silence, neither sure what to say to the other until Campbell paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“I’ll be more careful,” he promised. “I didnae mean to worry ye, really. I’ve just had an unlucky couple of days. I’m fine.”

“Really fine?”

“Aye, really fine.”

“And ye know ye can ask fer help any time?”

“Aye.”

“And—”

“Yes, yes, come on, let’s go inside! I haven’t eaten since lunch, an’ dinner won’t cook itself. What are we makin’ tonight?”

[kozumesphone]

03 ✦ I think i’m addicted to the title ‘you and me’ ! ༄.°

𝒽wang hyunjin x f!reader

masterlist . . . ✰

𓆩♡𓆪 𝒶n : my favourite chapter by far 🤭 kind of a fluffy chapter! def the longest in the series till rn too (I hate writing long chapters, please save me 🙏); anyway. the time has finally come fr! here’s your the ultimate climax chapter <333

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌arnings + tags : mention of kissing , hand holding , talking about being a bottom/top , hands around neck , light neck biting (twice) , y/n trying to internally best-friend-zone hyunjin but it doesn’t work , oblivious idiots in love ;

𓆩♡𓆪 𝓌c : 1.05k

DAY #03 . . .

days merged into one another because all I did was go to school and prep school, nothing more and nothing less.

I internally even sobbed, realising that I hadn’t read any of my books for the past six months.

we got our test scores back an hour ago, leaving the results of a bet looming over my head. a bet I made with hyunjin. a bet, whose loser had to kiss someone.

I bet that hyunjin would score higher than I would, and he bet the opposite. loser has to kiss anyone the winner picks.

except, we weren’t serious about the consequences because he had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship just a couple of months ago, and I was… well, I hadn’t had my first kiss yet.

instead of reminding each other of the bet, hyunjin and I were holding hands under the table—which we did quite often because he said my hands were cold and he was ‘warming them up’—when, one of the days preceding halloween, the topic of being a ‘bottom’ or a ‘top’ came up in the class.

“I think you’d be a… bottom,” hyunjin whispered to me.

“duh,” I rolled my eyes.

“why? you like when the other person does all the work for you, don’tcha?”

“well, yeah,” I said, shrugging.

the conversation quickly moved on to what our type was.

“she needs to be as mentally unwell as I am,” hyunjin said. “and have the same sense of humour, too. a little shorter than me, and smart. like, book-smart as hell. oh, hopefully someone who goes to the same prep school so we could see each other a lot, you know?”

I nodded, thinking of any of the girls in our class who fit the criteria, but failed. I even tried to go out of the way and mentally scrolled through a list of girls from other prep school classes, and still turnd up with nothing.

“y/n, what about you?” he nudged my arm.

“mmm, obviously mentally unhinged, because if not, it’d be boring if they didn’t match my freak, right? also, they better be ready to hear out all the freaky fantasies i’ve collected after being a book girl for so many years. the list is unbelievably long,” I said, half-laughing. “I don’t really mind if they’re younger or older than I am, but I would never date anyone shorter than me.”

he laughed and nodded his head at me, his eyes crinkling. I was honoured to be one of the few people who saw this version of his smile—the kind that reaches his eyes.

classes ended earlier than usual—at 7:50, instead of 8:00 p.m., which is still relaxing—so we spent more time in the park near my house together, before hyunjin could leave.

“come on, i’ll walk you home. it’s getting a bit late,” he said, jumping up from his swing, and extending his hand.

I took it without a second thought, and we talked about everything that happened in our classes at school as we kept walking.

“oh my god,” I groaned, looking at the ‘out of service! sorry for the inconvenience!’ sign taped to the elevator. ugh.

“let’s go,” he said, happy to convert me to his staircase-is-better-than-elevators agenda, pulling me up the stairs immediately.

trailing behind him, I asked, suddenly curious, “what led you to conclude the fact that i’d be a bottom?”

when we reached the third floor, he waited a beat before pulling me towards the wall. he pushed me against it gently, and slowly wrapped his fingers around my throat, towering over me and staring down into my eyes. I looked away to the side in embarrassment, as my cheeks flushed.

a second later, he let go. “the fact that you liked that, i’m pretty sure, is proof enough, don’tcha think?”

I mumbled a ‘whatever’, and we kept walking up the stairs. from the corner of my eyes, I could see his mouth still moving, continuing conversation, but my mind kept straying to his lips. and his nose. and his eyes. oh my god, he was beautiful.

“remember our deal about letting me bite you?” he asked suddenly. I nodded. I always bit his finger to annoy him (as I did to my other friends, as well) and he bit back a remark of ‘you’re just begging for me to bite you too, huh?’ to which I cockily remember replying, ‘try it’.

I pulled up the sleeve of my jacket and pushed my hand towards him, assuming he’d bite my hand like I did to him, and get it over with.

instead, he pulled me by my outstretched hand towards the wall again. his hands rested around my neck and tilted my face to my side. he gently nipped at my neck, and I laughed softly.

“tickles,” I mumbled.

best friends, I reminded myself.

he let go, and we walked up another floor to reach mine.

before I could wave to him, he asked, “want another on the other side?”

I quietly took small steps towards him, and his warm fingers found their home on my cheek, tilting my face away slowly. he bit down on my other side for a lot longer than the first time.

I held in a whimper, this time.

best friends.

I was pressed in between the wall and his body. I plopped my head down onto his chest, trying to calm down my racing heart.

best friends, right?

we were both smiling a little and his hand rested against my heart.

“got that heart beating so fast, all for me?” he smirked. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

best friends, I had to keep reminding myself.

I mumbled a ‘good night, hyune,’ to him and walked out of the stairwell. he let me go, knowing my parents would get mad at me if I got home even a minute later than I was supposed to.

he smiled, wishing me a good night and walking down the stairs again.

the cheeky little bastard.

I continued cursing him out in my mind, as I unlaced my shoes and stepped into my house. still scolding him internally for nothing, I tried to calm down my racing heart and shaking legs.

best friends aren’t supposed to have this kind of effect on each other… right?

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[vodika-vibes]

omg I can absolutely request something for kix, literally I'll take anything i love him so much

i'm not too fussy but maybe something hurt/comfort vibes with non-established relationship? if that takes your fancy, can be sfw or nsfw however it works out

love your writing sm :)

Watching Over You

Summary: ou know that Kix is “dealing” with his new truth by not dealing with it, and you know it’s only a matter of time before he falls apart. You’ll be there for him, until he no longer needs you.

Pairing: Pre Pirate!Kix x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1113

Warnings: Kix is straight up not having a good time.

A/N: So, this could be seen as platonic or pre-romantic, but I'm happy with it, but that might just be because it's Kix. Anyway, I hope you like it!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Alright, we’re all set,” You say as you step out of the shop while tugging your new gloves over your hands, “You sure you don’t need anything while we’re here?”

“From Nar Shaddaa?” Kix asks, as he tears his gaze away from a stall selling, probably stolen, speeders. “Hard pass. How do you know those are going to be any good?”

“Leather gloves are leather gloves, babe.” You counter as you hold your, now glove-covered, hands in front of your face, “They don’t need to be the best leather gloves in the galaxy, they just need to be able to protect my hands from the cold.”

Kix huffs, “You should let me run some blood tests. There’s no reason for you to be cold all of the time–”

“Hard pass, Doc.” You counter, “If I’m dying from some blood disease, I don’t want to know.”

Kix sighs again, and finally focuses his attention on you, “You’re impossible.”

“And yet still so adorable.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

“Thanks! I will.”

He shoots you a look, and you grin at him, “Come on, Kix. Let’s get out of here before the Hutts take offense at our presence.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He falls into step next to you, while you chatter his ear off about anything and everything that crosses your mind.

In the almost year that you’ve known, and traveled, with Kix, you’ve learned that he doesn’t like quiet. When there’s too much quiet he gets lost in his own mind, and starts spiraling.

And so, you fill the silence with stories, with mindless chatter, with music or movies or shows. Anything and everything you can do to make his suffering a little easier, you will do.

Honestly, you’ve never spoken so much in your life as you have in the past year.

You stop mid-sentence, when you glance to the side and realize that Kix is no longer walking with you. Quickly, you scan the crowd around you, and you quickly find him.

At first, you’re not sure what caught his attention, but as you approach him, you see what his gaze is locked on, and your heart sinks. He’s standing in front of an electronics store. An electronics store that has a massive holo showing a documentary about Darth Vader and his 501st.

Your jaw clenches and you slowly exhale, before you move to his side and wrap your arms around his arm, “Kix.” You keep your gaze on his face, on the pained, almost lost, expression that he wears when he’s lost in the past, “It’s time to go.”

He doesn’t react to your voice, but he also doesn’t stop you when you start tugging him away from the shop. And he doesn’t fight you when you walk him back to the spaceport and back to your ship.

In fact, in spite of your chatter, Kix is completely silent. 

He doesn’t say anything until you’re back on your ship. “Hey, can we wait a bit before we take off?”

You watch him for a moment, “Why?”

“I’d like a proper shower, and the water shower doesn’t work properly in space.” Kix replies.

“Mm, yeah. Okay.”

You pretend that you don’t notice him grabbing the portable holo as he heads into the fresher, and half an hour later, when you hear a quiet sob from the fresher, you turn on some music so he can have some privacy.

There’s no way for you to understand his grief.

Kix once had 2 million brothers…and now he’s alone in the galaxy. Only, he’s not alone, he has you, and he’ll continue to have you until he no longer needs you. And even then, you’ll stick around until he tells you to leave.

Personal loyalty to your friends has always been your fatal flaw, according to your old school teachers.

When he finally emerges from the fresher, his eyes are red and he looks exhausted. Bone deep exhausted.

You watch him for a moment, and then you sigh, “Kix,”

He glances at you, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not okay, Kix. And that’s okay.” You set the bowl that you were using to make some meatballs on the counter and walk over to him to take his hands in yours, “I...have given you your space, but maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“Listen, you don’t have to do this.”

You squeeze his hands, “Yes, I do. I…cannot even begin to understand the kind of loss that you suffered. I can’t. No one can. But you’re not alone in this.”

“My whole family is dead, cyare.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re alone.” You counter, “I will be here for you, for as long as you accept it. And probably longer.”

He stares at you, and then he sighs and drops his cheek on the top of your head while hooking his arms around your waist, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong about that too, but I can be patient with you.”

The pair of you don’t say anything for a while, “What are you making?”

“Meatballs. We’re having pasta for dinner. With homemade noodles.”

“Huh. Have you made the dough yet?”

You smile at him, “Nope, I know you like that part. The ingredients are in the fridge.”

Later, as he’s kneading the dough while you sing along to the radio and form meatballs, he turns down the music and glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s up?” You ask, without looking at him.

“Can I sleep with you tonight? I don’t want to be alone.”

“Whatever you need, Kix. You just need to ask.” You reply, turning to look at him with a fond smile on your face.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, “Also…?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think you can put me in contact with Luke Skywalker? I’d like to get to know him…and maybe share some stories about his dad.”

“Mm, I don’t know if I can get you in contact with Master Skywalker, but I can probably get you in contact with General Organa-Solo.” You reply lightly, “She might be able to get you in touch with Master Skywalker.”

“...thanks, cyare.”

“Like I said, Kix. Whatever you need. For however long you need it.”

The pair of you go back to your respective projects and as you finish forming the last meatball and pull your food prep gloves off, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, “Thank you.”

You grin at him and thread your fingers with his to give his hand a squeeze, “No worries, Kix. I’ll watch over you until you’re ready to look after yourself. And then I’ll keep doing it. That’s what I do.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

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@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

@rebell-ious

[stinkypeanutbutter]

Have some Taylor !! I love her aoosois much she’s such a cutie patootie :33

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[bright-and-burning]

pms brain right before midnight when i got work tomorrow: what if we thought abt the time when u were 12 and ur dad got distracted w work and completely missed your band concert only to show up after it was all done. we should ruminate on this for hours

[swordmaid]

which is also why I think - in a vengeance shri’iia au where she ends up as astarion’s spawn and he inevitably gets tired of her bc he has all the power in the world and he can have anything and anyone he wants and everything is his for the taking - when she inevitably turns from his ‘eternal lover’ to just his ‘first spawn’ - she will be sooo amy gone girl about it.

like she’s devoting her oath and her entire life to him, he doesn’t get to change that. he’s not allowed to change even. she will do everything in her power and she will even set fire to them both if he tried to change. like he’s making a mistake that she’s rectifying! she lives to serve, and if he doesn’t want her servitude that means there’s something that’s not right and she will personally correct that. like he doesn’t need to worry about anything ofc - worrying doesn’t look good on him let her fix what needs to be fixed. she is such a good lover after all. it doesn’t compute to her that she’s going to be replaced. like it literally doesn’t make sense, not when he promised her eternity. so when he starts looking at someone else, when he starts to favor someone else and lavish them with his attentions and praise she will get rid of them because he’s getting distracted! and he doesn’t need distractions! and when he gets mad at her she will forgive his transgressions and soothe that anger away - he doesn’t need anymore wrinkles. and she will know about every little lie he says and hold them close to her chest then recite it back to him when she gets rid of another one of his new favourites. and when he tries to kill her she’ll do the same thinking it’s some game or courtship - this is how it was back in menzoberranzan after all! the fact that he was willing to learn her traditional courtship is so sweet 🥰. and maybe she’ll scare him even, so he can learn what fear is again. it’s a good kind of fear bc she’s showing what kind of person she could be so it would be dumb of him to throw her away.

but the thing is! she’s operating out of love and devotion! and they have eternity together! and there’s something sooo sicko yes about how ascended astarion’s first spawn - his first creation - being something that he will eventually resent and fears. bc it would be so much easier if she hated him like how he hated cazador. but she doesn’t. she’s deranged and in love and so obsessive about that love to the point where it literally can not be changed - and he can’t change it or manipulate it. what was once useful to him became a detriment. their love turning so sick and rotten, like a leftover apple, and she becomes a nuisance that he can’t get rid of, and he’s stuck with that nuisance for eternity. he eventually realises what a mistake it was seducing her back then when they had those tadpoles in their heads, when they had that strange freedom. like if he knew things would turn out like this, and she was actually this kind of person, maybe he would’ve done things differently but instead he’s stuck with her for eternity.

and I do think he’ll try to kill her lmfao I mean he’s a vampire lord and she’s just a fucking spawn so he’ll get rid of her once he gets bored and annoyed, but she thinks it’s some game between them so she’ll try to get him too - not kill him ofc but just close enough to scare him and remind him that she does bite even before the vampire teeth. I mean before him, she was literally a drow high priestess’/matron mother’s trained hound.

anyway I really love the idea of them being miserable with each other lmfaoo and I think she will be so miserable as a spawn actually and the moment when she potentially gets replaced something is gonna break inside of her bc it’ll just like before when she broke her oath. but she won’t be that bewildered and confused girl again, nope. she’s not going to accept it this time, she refuses! she doesn’t get to be the only miserable one, he doesn’t get to win..!!!

[lilgynt]

shit my partner has done in the last 48 hours: one. make fun of my dad who just got out of the hospital bc he beat me as kid allegedly two. slapped my ass in front my old coworkers bc she genuinely hates their guts

[thirdeyeblue]

(Your tags deserved to live on!)

it's insane to me that people can't get past the nuances of rose and mickey's relationship and how they're both good people who don't do right by each other. like this is a show where the main character (allegedly) kills his entire species and you can't get past why two people who started dating in their teens might fuck each other up a bit

[foldingfittedsheets]

When I was working at the sex shop I was pulling poverty wages. I loved my job but I was on food stamps and still barely getting by. When they hired the stores first male employee and he started at my pay rate after I’d been there for three years I quit.

I was initially really nervous when I saw the post for the mattress job. It listed a pay scale that I couldn’t even conceptualize and I appeared qualified. When I got an interview I was over the moon but also petrified. Reactions to my line of work often varied but most people were very embarrassed or skeptical. I worried about how I’d address it in the actual interview.

I lived far to the north of their headquarters and drove almost two hours to get there. When I finally arrived it was in the nicest thrift store clothes I could find, but I shrank inside to see a room full of older white men in nice suits waiting to be interviewed for the same job.

Why did I bother? I was decades younger than anyone else in the room, shabbily dressed, and I suspected I was the only afab person in the entire building. I stewed in my insecurities until I was called in.

The second I met my interviewer I was instantly put at ease. The man had the energy of a therapy dog, he was abound with positive, good natured energy. He was also incredibly beautiful. I grinned back at his welcoming smile as we said our pleasantries. But still. This very beautiful polished man seemed very innocent. How would the sex shop question go?

“I see here you worked at STORE?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly.

“And that was sales? Or you just rang people up.”

“No, it was sales. I’d help people find products, we were encouraged to upsell, there was sales spiffs, and most importantly we educated customers on products to help them find what they liked best.”

He grinned approvingly and asked, “Can you give me an example of a time you successfully upsold a customer?”

I paused, wringing my hands before I asked, “How vague would you like me to be…?”

“Not at all!” He assured me. “Go for it!”

“Well. A man came in looking for something to make his fingers vibrate so when he was touching his wife it would enhance that sensation. We had cheap $10 cockrings that I showed him first. But we had a rechargeable waterproof one made of nicer material, and after I showed him a demo he bought that one.”

“How much was that one?”

“$110”

“Wow! You had an upsell of 100% from what he came in looking for! That’s incredible!”

He was so truly genuinely stoked and not at all embarrassed that for the first time I saw a tiny glimmer of a future where I didn’t have ramen and peanut butter tiding me over between paychecks.

He asked me to wait then came back to tell me he liked me so much that he wanted to send me right into another interview, if that was okay. He didn’t want me to have to drive back later, it was terribly considerate and exciting. I beamed and told him it would be lovely.

I then had the second worst interview I’ve ever had. The worst goes to the time I applied to be a store manager for a pet food place years later. The district and store manager interviewing me passed notes and texted while I was speaking. When the district manager called to inform me I didn’t get the job I told him I’d never have accepted anyway because I’d never had such a disrespectful interview.

The new man sitting behind the desk radiated an aura of a brick wall. As someone with anxiety I’m highly keyed into the emotional states of people I’m talking to. To receive no feedback at all was my personal hell. After a perfunctory greeting he asked me with no inflection to sell him a pen.

I gathered the shreds of my courage and attempted the Herculean task he’d set me. Through my whole improvised spiel he resisted all attempts at engaging him, regarding me with a cold apathy as I touted the benefits of my fictitious pen.

Halfway through I broke into a cold sweat. My smile didn’t waver but it grew strained as I projected friendliness and warmth into the black hole of his heart. My thoughts scattered and my sales pitch grew redundant in the face of his nothingness. I finally concluded with a hard close and he simply nodded.

He glanced at my resume and commented, “You didn’t ask me to touch or hold it. Though I suppose I can understand from your previous line of work why you wouldn’t.” I shriveled and died inside knowing that I encouraged people to touch dildos all day long and had been too frazzled to offer him the pen.

He bid me a cool farewell. I made it to my car before I started sobbing. I had never been so rattled. I couldn’t understand what I’d done to make him so unfriendly or if my threadbare clothes were what had made him treat me like dirt. I drove an hour and a half to get home, weeping intermittently.

I was therefore taken by complete surprise to receive a call the next day inviting me on board for their five week training program. The first man who’d interviewed me gushed on the phone about how the second guy had loved me and that I was going to be fantastic.

I was in shock. When I showed up to training the second interviewer was charming my new classmates, beaming and laughing. He was an utterly different person. To my dismay I learned he was the trainer for my district and would be my point of contact if I made it through training.

He joked with me later that his interview facade was just a tactic to see how people held up under pressure and I filed him into a category of my deepest enmity. I never forgave him for how small he made me feel that day, but I never showed him the depths of my fury.

I aced every test and went on to be valedictorian of the eight people who had survived the rigorous training process to earn a sales position. When I got my first paycheck I bought myself new clothes, the first non-thrifted things I’d owned in years.