#but there were still no time skips in his journey so I don't know where those 2 months were supposed to go by

[ahmedsal-1qa]

⛔ please help my family don't skip 🛑

Hello, My name is Ahmad Mohammed Hassan Salah, a 33-year-old man from Gaza, Palestine. Under the sky of Gaza, amidst the war and shelling, begins my story. I lived my life in the northern part of Gaza with my wife and three children, dreaming of a secure future for my small family. Nada, my seven-year-old eldest daughter, loves to draw, though her colors have disappeared amid the rubble 🎨💔. Mohamed, my five-year-old son, still dreams of playing in a garden untouched by bombs 🛝💔. As for Huda, my two-year-old, she has started uttering her first words amid the sounds of explosions 🍼💔.

The tragedy began one night of the war when I was forced to leave my home under continuous bombardment 💣😔. I carried my children and my anxious wife, running through the debris and darkness in search of a safe haven 🌪️. Our journey was fraught with dangers, as we left everything behind: our home, memories, and even our money and food 🏚️💔. After a long journey, we found ourselves in southern Gaza, where we set up a small tent as a temporary refuge ⛺😞.

The tent, small as it was, became our new world. Without mattresses to shield us from the cold nights or blankets to protect us from the rain 🌧️❄️, life was harsh. The children slept on the ground, and I struggled to provide any food to feed my family 🍞💔. But the war showed us no mercy. After only three months, we were forced to move once again, this time to central Gaza. The Israeli army described it as a "safe zone," but the shelling followed us like an unrelenting shadow 💔💣.

More than a year has passed, and my family and I continue to live under bombardment and destruction 🌋💔. Each day brings with it a new story of suffering. Food is scarce 🍽️, water is contaminated 🚱, and fear never leaves my children's hearts 😔💔. Nada has started asking, "When will this war end?" 😢. Mohamed tries to comfort his mother, who weeps in silence 😭💔. As for Huda, she knows no world other than one filled with terrifying sounds 🥺.

I also suffer from a chronic illness, and I have a medical report confirming my condition 🏥💔. However, the pain of my illness is less than the anguish I see in my children's eyes 💔😔. I try to be strong, but I sometimes break down when I cannot provide food for them 🥺. My wife stands by me, trying to bring hope, but even hope has become a rare commodity 💔.

Amidst the devastation, I want to send a message to the world: "We are human. Our children deserve a better life. We just want safety. All I want is to sleep one night without fearing that my children will wake up to the sound of explosions." 🙏💔

Due to this ongoing suffering, I appeal to the world through Tumblr to raise donations for my family and for other families experiencing similar circumstances 🌍💔. If you are able to provide any assistance, no matter how small, it would mean so much to us 🙏🫂. You can help by donating food, clothing, or even essential medications that we desperately need 💊🛒. I kindly ask you to share our story on Tumblr, because spreading it may reach kind hearts all over the world—hearts that can offer help and save the lives of my children and the children of Gaza from this hell ❤️🕊️.

My story is not just an individual one; it represents thousands of families in Gaza living in conditions that are unimaginable 💔. The question remains: How long will this suffering continue? And will the day come when Nada can draw a sun without it being covered by the smoke of war? 🌞✏️💔

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #280 )✅️

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters

[dropsnectar]

Fawning Rose: Vine Monster x GN!Reader

The Adventures of an Elven Herbalist Part One

NSFW or NSFT

This is my first time writing anything in 6 years so keep that in mind. Also my first smut fic. Or monster fic. I literally learned about the sexual parts of plants for this fic. Don't know how I got here but this was fun! btw if you don't like oviposition, I marked the parts with three !!! before and after that scene, so you can skip it if you want.

WORD COUNT: 3167, or 7 pages on Docs

It had been a long journey from your home country, having to cross an entire sea to get to the sleepy elven town of Hairevick. An Herbalist, you could craft pills to treat a human flu, create a poultice for a dwarves sore, work-tired limbs; even brew potions to help a beastmen ease out of a mating season-- but it was still lonely. Their were no elves about, except for the rogue eccentric nomad. 

Feeling as you had fully mastered your craft in that area, and curious about your kind, you set forth in hopes of bettering yourself. However, when introducing yourself to your neighbors, you found everyone to be polite, but detached. As far as elves went, you were quite young, and the people of Hairevick were elder and not so trusting of outsiders. But worse of all, everyone here seemed to have an excellent knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their uses in maintaining health. There was no need for an herbalist, especially one so unfamiliar with their lands. 

You spent the entire week mourning your state over glasses and pints of botanical alcohol-- The local tavern drinks were amazing!-- until you finally met a sympathetic face. 

He had long silver hair and the wisp of a ginger beard around his sharp jaw; a peculiar trait. He greeted you friendly enough, asking how you were settling in. It turned out that he owned a store in town, selling odds and ends. He even had a little apothecary in the corner, where those who couldn’t be bothered to make a forest run would buy herbs and tinctures. 

Starved for companionship, you bombarded him with questions about clients, and local herbalism. He was jovial, and after quite a few dregs of honey yarrow grog, offered you a book on the local flora. After some midnight bonding over stories of patients, he gave you a proposition. 

He was having some issues procuring some materials from a special plant, a Fawning Rose. It had incredible healing properties, but a bad habit of uprooting itself and fleeing from anyone who wasn’t a youth. If you could lure it out and bring back anything, be it petals, roots, greens, he would pay you handsomely. Maybe even give you some lessons on how to work with local plant life.

It was for this reason that you found yourself two days into a trip to the heart of the Haire Wilds bordering town. It was not going well. 

***

The cool air caressed your skin as you entered the grove. You had caught a peculiar sweet smell, somehow floral and buttery at the same time, and had followed it with hope filling your heart. The scent had gotten so thick you could taste it, strong as a tea on your tongue. Blue wildflowers covered the ground, interrupted by the common tree route or vine. 

Your eyes followed the vines or small roots, colored a sage with a speckled gradient to midnight blue. They traveled up into the middle of the grove. Sunlight, so rare this far into the Wilds, fell down in large delicious specks from the trees. They refracted off a large flower, almost two yards in width. Its petals were raspberry pink, turning blood red in the middle. Vines from its base led upwards and rested on the low boughs of the nearest trees, framing the flower and its various young buds like some sort of ethereal art study. 

You grew excited, feet tripping over roots as you ran forward, losing a shoe. You lost balance again and landed face first into the crook of a particularly large vine and hit your head. Hard. 

Hot pain crashed through you, making you curse as you steadied yourself. You tried to get up but the heat struck your temple like lightning as you moved upwards. Alright. Best to stay down then. 

As you waited, you were able to see past the stars in your eyes and notice a slight powdery substance on the vines. It, too, was pink. 

Maybe it was the thrill of finally finding the damn thing, or the head injury, but you felt different. You could hear your heart pumping hard in your chest, pleasantly tight. Your breath was ragged, the air pushing a hard, chilling heat through you. 

Like a particularly good run, your mind registered. A high. 

Your limbs started to tingle at the tips.

The rose’s perfume felt more like a mist now. You were only a few feet away from the base flower, and the scent had turned heady. Your hunger from a missed meal seemed to be surfacing, goaded on by the delectable smell the plant was giving off. While the pain eased and the stars disappeared from your eyes, you noticed that the lightheaded fuzzy feeling stayed.

Uh oh. Not a concussion.

You had to work hard to bring the fear into your mind. There was very little anyone could do to help you out here. The best you could do was not move around too much, and hoped the Fawning Rose would cooperate.

Suddenly, you notice some movement from the roots under your palms. 

No no no not now! Please, I haven’t harvested you yet! You thought as you tried to scramble up. 

The roots moved upwards with you, shoving you onto your side. Sliding around your feet, one took your other shoe with it as it slithered about under you. Another seemed to upend itself and squeeze cooly between your toes. You jumped a bit, but your gaze and mind were slow.

Something thick gilded itself on your shoulder making you look up. Vines, three, four, five of them descended and started rubbing themselves against you like cats. The movement was kicking up clouds of the pink pollen, making you sneeze as you wiggled against the plants outer limbs.

A part of you was horrified, thinking that perhaps you had scared the thing off. After all, you had been warned that this type of rose was particularly skittish. But the plant did not seem to be gathering itself to run away, rather it was pulling you closer to itself, the dragging tearing at the underside of your clothes.

Try as you might, you couldn't seem to think. Foggy, fuzzy, your mind was like cotton. The tingling in your fingertips has spread through your body, and an embarrassed part of your brain noticed your lower body was starting to awaken too. A warmth was beginning to pool in your gut, slow and lazy. Tingly. Fuzzy, like your head.

The vines continue to rub against your body, tearing the rest of your clothes away until only skin remains. They were relentless, cool against your hot skin. Their outer layers were textured but still smooth; a foreign sensation but extremely exciting. It felt almost like something was licking you, the powder giving a wet feel as it spread itself all over. Liquid heat glazed the innermost parts of you, much to your embarrassment. 

Aphrodisiac. You finally registered. You started to curse out that damned store keeper. 

You’d been played. 

You were now at the base of the flower, with even more roots and vines cradling and moving over your body. You were… pushed? Pulled? A foot into the air, close enough so that some of the smaller buds were leaning over you, as if they were getting a good look at you. You felt a knowing, a presence from this plant now. It really was looking at you.

Some desperate part of your mind, far far back in your mind, tries to set off danger bells. That you needed to get up and run.

Ooze started to secrete from the smaller buds, and the already overpowering scent of floral butteriness seemed to multiply. It dripped out onto your belly, warm and tingling, then your chest, your inner thigh, even a bit on your cheek.

The syrup dribbled down into the planes of your mouth as you wriggled under the vines. A particularly mischievous one pushes through the plush cheeks of your ass and moves up, poking at your entrance, causing you to gasp. 

The liquid touches your tongue. It tastes just as it smells, deliriously delicious. Sweet. Hot. It was divine compared to the little rations you’ve been eating the last few days. Like youd been starving and had sudden.ly been given free reign of a pastry shoppe. But no pastry could top this silky butteriness

What little heat that had kindled inside you was now a roaring flame, putting your past arousal to shame. You groan, and pull your head up, sticking your tongue out for more. A part of you is screaming to stop and run, but it is a stupid part that is buried instantly under your sudden overwhelming need. You are desperately horny, and you deserve to feel good after all the trouble you've been through lately.  

Still sticking out your tongue, you start to moan even louder as the vine messages your entrance with its thick girth. At the same time, one of the buds above your face seems to notice your desperation, and leans down to your lips.You lick at its plush petals and sweet sweet nectar seeps into your mouth. It tastes much like a floral pastry and you suck greedily as it pushes itself deeper in. 

The petals are so soft, yet still firm in your mouth as a river of nectar floods your throat. You giggled around it as it started to take its full effect. You felt light as air, so good. 

The vines had moved over to allow a bud to circle itself around your most sensitive part. You gasped out as it started to suck you, making stars flood your already glistening eyes. Your wet lashes fluttered as it began to suck wave after wave of pleasure out of your body.You had never felt so good, you noted somewhere in your sex drunk mind.  The whole time, the bud leaked nectar, completely soaking all parts of your groin.

The nectar left your skin feeling sensitive,  and completely soaked. This seemed to please the vines, which continued to massage the oil about you, then finally push in. You cried out at the sensation. Drool started to pool out of your mouth, mixing with the nectar.

 The vines rubbed lazy curving lines around your walls, making your hips jerk and shake. They seemed to know what they were doing as they started out slow for a time, then sped up their pace, thrashing about inside you. You clench around them, overwhelmed by the unyielding sensation. The pooling heat in you was building high, and you could tell the walls were about to break.

A rogue, mischievous bud had decided to examine your hole, tracing around your entrance in lazy circles. The petals were so soft, softer than skin. The texture made you feel desperate. As if to read your mind, the bud stopped. It must have been blooming because you felt little feelers, probably stamans, tracing about your genitals, wet with its lovely, delicious pollen.

 You swore and whined and pleaded for more as the vines fucked you through it, voice garbled by nectar. Another, thicker vine veined in indigo added itself to its companions and you finally came. The rush was like being tossed in the ocean, a shock that completely enveloped your entire body in cold, pulsing ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your juices spilled down on the forest floor below. 

The echoes of the waves of pleasure were still rocking through you when the vines surrounded your body started to move you upwards again. The vines were slow and delicate as they handled you, as if you were precious cargo. You were brought upwards, almost as if they were about to set you on your feet. Your neck was out, as you were still suckling the addicting flower liquid. 

You noticed through your long damp hair that you were positioned just over the center of the Fawning Roses main flower. A drop of nectar slipped out from inside you and dribbled down and onto the flower's green pistil. The stigma was thick, with four fat lumps at the top. The stamen surrounding it swayed, almost as if there was a breeze. Their magenta anthers rained down more pollen, causing a beautiful gradient against the deep red at the middle of the large petals. It was a truly breathtaking sight. 

A single vine wiggled towards your face and pushed back your hair. You found the gesture almost sweet, leaning into its touch. You remained like that for a time, before the vines started to lower you on to the stigma. 

No no no, you tried to whisper, some understanding dawning; but the bud was being aggressive with its feeding, pushing further in your mouth. It had a job, and its job was to make you so desperately horny and stupid, you’d let this flower breed you. 

The stigma was a hard fit at first. Its lumpy texture felt so good rubbing against you, you couldn’t help but hump back into it. The vines around you squeezing your skin, tilting your hips this way in that, trying to make the fit. The surrounding stamen started to rub their anthers against you, two started focusing on your nipples. You continued to hump the stigma, smearing the nectars from your groin all over it. Then, finally, finally, You were able to squeeze it in. 

The vines had taken over the humping for you now, pushing you down harder and harder onto the pistil. The lumps dragged against your walls in such a beautiful way, that you screamed out babbling whines. Your skin was covered in nectar and bright pink pollen. Every part of you was being squeezed, rubbed, oozed upon with tingling liquid, that you weren’t even sure you had a body anymore, just pleasure. After you came for the fourth time, you started to feel a pulsing within the pistil.  It was like the thing seemed to grow within you.

! ! !

Ridges started to squeeze against your entrance, rubbing against your walls. They moved up, up, up, into the deepest parts of you. There was a sudden burst of warmth, then something small and squishy. You marveled at the texture, as the flower continued to lower you down on the pistil, now at a slower pace, in smaller movements. You ached so badly, but the new sensation of the objects and warmth inside you made you wanna keen louder. They felt sort of like eggs.

Seedpods. You registered lazily. You were being turned into a seedbed. 

This realization only seemed to turn you on even more. They felt so good, rolling about inside your walls. The warmth they brought rivaled the cool temperature of the pistil, a delightful duality. 

You moaned with every bulge, push, then pop of warmth and heaviness. It was getting to the point now where the vines were pulling you up off the pistil to make more room for the seeds. 

! ! !

You were cumming so much now you lost count. It was getting to the point that you were just continuously orgasming, as the seeds and the pistil dragged against your most sensitive parts. 

You may have been like that for hours, days even, the nectar kept you so dizzy you couldn’t tell time. But at some point you were so full that the pistil seemed satisfied. The wriggling stamen around you stilled, and the vines carefully lifted you off the pistil, giving one last drag within your walls.

The bloom inside your mouth slowly dragged itself out, making you whine in protest. The vines carefully laid you down at the foot of their roots, arranging your body in a comfortable position. The vines slowly retreated from your body. They lazily moved about, sometimes knocking into each other in a way that was almost comical. Their movements seemed lazy, almost like it too was spent. 

As the last vine left your skin, it caressed your cheek. Within you some affection of your own seemed to bloom. The haze that was in your mind was starting to dull, and replaced itself with the need to rest. Your heavy eyes closed and you gave into sleep.

***

You awoke without opening your eyes. You could feel that the curving mound of roots you’d been sleeping on had been replaced with fluffy grass and soil. The smell of freshly tilled earth flooded your nose, and you jolted upright, eyes wide.

The grove was quiet, and empty of the Fawning Rose. All that was left behind was you, the upturned soil it had left behind, and light dusting of pink pollen on the trees. Even the sweet pastry-like smell had left the grove.

You looked down at your naked, sore body and groaned. You could see a trail of bruises from where the vines had gripped you, along with dried out nectar and tons of pink pollen. Your stomach puffed out a bit more than normal, meaning all of this had NOT been a dream. Much to your surprise, nothing hurt though. Your body felt great, healthily spent like you had just run a marathon. Considering how hard you had been working there should have been some pain, but there wasn’t. Just the pleasant pressure of the seedpods against your insides.You recall the conversation with the shop owner at the tavern. Looks like this is the flower's healing abilities at work.

You continued to search around the grove. Your clothes were still in shreds on the forest floor, but your bag was safely tucked under one of the trees the flower had rested its vines in. With some effort, you managed to get yourself off the ground to pick it up, waddling the whole way. 

The pollen was still working its magic on you, but you guessed you had been exposed to it long enough to build a slight tolerance. Or maybe the growing rage within you was doing the trick. You pulled out one of the many glass bottles, and a silver knife. You went to work, scraping the dried nectar and pollen off your body, into the jars.

I’m gonna charge that asshole so much money, his kids will be poor. You seethed as you spent hours getting your money's worth off of every plane of your body. You’d have to birth those seed pods later too. Your insides grew warm at the thought. 

You tried not to think about how you were going to have to walk home naked, where you’d been and what you’d been doing laid bare upon your skin. It’d be free advertising tho, you tried to reason. 

You'd make a killing. Aphrodisiacs were rare, and extremely expensive, especially to a crowd of immortals. I think I'll sell these seed pods on my own though. You smiled. 

You’d make sure to be properly prepared the next time you went into the wilds.

Might do a part two, maybe with slimes next time? Also sorry about any switching of tenses, I have a hard time with that! Hope you guys enjoyed!

[d0rothydraws]

Reader gets attacked on the way home from work late at night.

content: f!reader, violence, possessiveness, murder, blood, after care, fingering, sweet talk, sex.

w/c: 2.2k

Ao3: Here

a/n: I have like 3 other fics im working on, one being where he helps you on your period but apparently thats too soft for my brain because it told me that I needed to write something where Sylus kills for you because I wanted to feel something. Please read the content descriptions, If you aren't comfortable with violence, you can skip to after the break.

It was late, work went longer than expected and you were exhausted. Usually, Sylus would pick you up when it was this late but he had what he called a "non negotiable meeting". He offered to have Luke or Kieran pick you up or order a ride but you refused, stubborn as ever. You were a capable hunter, and besides you've done this walk hundreds of times before. Though, even yet, if Sylus couldn't be there, he did everything in his power to make sure you were safe.

The sound of the mechanical bird's wings was loud in your ears as Mephisto landed on your shoulder, Its eyes shining in the dark, almost like Sylus' himself. "You were waiting." You mumbled as you turned the corner to set off on your journey. Mephisto just turned its head slightly, ruffling its feathers.

A few minutes passed and you heard footsteps behind you. Your shoulders tensed as you put a hand on your gun. You weren't sure what happened, it happened so fast as the steps grew louder, faster. More steps than you could count. An ambush. Your body moved on its own as you turned to try and shoot at one of the men, at any of them. Your gun going off as your body hit the ground. Mephisto flew at them, his razor sharp beak aiming at their eyes. While he did manage to harm one of the attackers, the other two were still surrounding you as the third slapped the crow away.

"What's a pretty little thing doing out this late." One of the men said, pulling a knife out as they watched you try to reach your gun that was just out of arm's reach. Before you could grab your backup plan, the smaller gun Sylus had given you for emergencies, the second man stepped on your hand, making you scream in pain as you were immobilized.

"Eat shit." You hissed, not giving up the fight as you squirmed under them, trying to throw them off of you as the one holding the knife straddled your hips. You spit at him, and in return, he grabbed your jaw. His other hand held the knife against your throat. You refused to show the fear in your eyes as you felt the steel kiss your skin.

"You're too pretty to be using words like that, princess." The man spit. You tried to throw him off of you but the knife pressed harder into your neck. "Keep going and you won't be saying anything soon."

"That fuckin bird got my eye boss! Can't see shit." The third man said, trying to cover his eye to stop the bleeding. The second man spoke up in a mocking tone. "Suck it up, you got another one don't ya? Anyways, ya won't need to see in order to hear the sounds she's gonna make when we-"

The alley filled with black and red smoke. Your heart raced as you heard the sound of Mephisto, and then- "You should know better than to touch what isn't yours." Sylus said calmly, appearing through the smoke as the red and black coils snaked around the men's necks, lifting them in the air. You couldn't move, your body felt paralyzed from the attack. You could only lay there as you watched Sylus approach as the men were raised higher and higher. He looked calm but there was an anger behind those eyes, a fury. Your heart raced, the sounds of the three men that attacked you background noise as your eyes locked with Sylus. Slowly he leaned down to help you up, his touch gentle yet you could feel how tense he was.

One by one the men fell from the sky, each tendril releasing them one by one. As each of the bodies fell from extreme heights, their cries were silenced on impact. Falling to their death efficiently. You didn't see the bodies, barely heard the sound, as Sylus pulled you into his chest, blinding you from the event. You could hear his heart racing, his lips against your ear to cover the sound behind you. "I'm sorry I took so long, sweetie." He said, his voice tense as he rubbed your back slowly as if checking for injuries. "Let's get you cleaned up." He muttered as the coils wrapped around the both of you. It felt surprisingly warm, like a warm gust of summer air. In moments it was as if you were flying, being guided across the city and through the N109 Zone back to his home.

▬ �� ▬ ♦ ▬ ♦ ▬

The night was a blur, you felt numb, mentally and physically. Sylus didn't say too much, there was a look in his eye that you have never seen before. His touches were soft as he helped bathe you, cleaning the grime and dirt off of you, paying extra attention to the areas that the men touched as if to replace the memory.

After you were clean, he helped change you. A fresh set of soft pajamas, your favorite cozy fluffy socks to add to it. Slowly, he lead you to the bed. The smell of him filling your senses as you laid down. The images of tonight filled your mind, the faces of the men. How fast everything happened. The feeling of that knife against your throat. Your heart started beating faster as your body tensed slightly.

Strong arms wrapped around you, settling behind you on the bed as he pulled you close against him. He tangled his legs with yours as his hands gently rubbed circles against your skin. His lips against your ear as his words cleared your mind like a prayer.

"It's ok. Nobody will ever touch you again, you're mine. And I'll make sure of that." He whispered, his words sincere as he kissed your ear. "I'll make you forget everything that happened today." He said as his hand dipped under the band of your pajama pants trailing the curve of your hip.

You felt your mind start to melt as you focused on his words, his touch. The smell of sandalwood and bourbon against your nose as the feeling of his hand made you shiver. You felt like you were in his embrace for hours as he whispered into your ear, his hand teasing and grazing your skin gently but with purpose.

His other hand moved under your shirt, trailing up until he reached your chest. Slowly, he rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. His lips moved to your neck, kissing the skin softly before nipping, leaving small red marks down to your shoulder. His hand dipped under the band of your underwear, pads of his fingers brushing against the wetness between your thighs. You gasped softly, a hand moving around to curl into his hair, pulling his lips closer into your skin where he purred in approval.

"That's it kitten, feel every bit of what I do to you." He whispered, voice hot from the feeling of your hand in his hair. "You're doing so well, I love how you shiver when I touch you like this." He said as a finger pushed inside you slowly. Your eyes rolled back as you arched against the hand, moving your hips slightly only for his legs to tighten more, still tangled in yours. "Shh, relax. Don't rush, just enjoy it sweetie."

You felt your body tingle at each touch, each word he spoke into your ear. Your moans became louder, a second finger, and then a third thrusting into you at a slow, deep pace. You gasped his name softly, feeling your core tighten as his thumb brushed against your clit. "That's it sweetie, say my name." His voice practically vibrated in his chest, the praise making you clench around the fingers, earning a soft sound of his own pleasure from him. You could feel how this was affecting him against your back. His pants tight from his cock straining the seam.

You couldn't take it anymore, the feeling of him overwhelmed you. Your body clenched around his hand harder, pulling him closer as his thumb pressed against your clit, the friction much needed as your body tensed, a soft cry of pleasure erupting from your throat as you arched back against his chest.

Gently he pulled his fingers from you and to his lips as he tasted you. A low sound rumbled in his throat at your taste. "You always taste incredible, kitten." He said, his hands wrapping around you again, pulling you close as he nuzzled into your neck.

Your heart pounded, body craving more. You figured he didn't want to push you, considering tonight's events, wanting to focus on what you needed. But what you needed was him. You moved a hand behind you, finding the bulge that had been growing against your back since his touches began. He inhaled a sharp breath, slightly tensing before a soft chuckle tickled your ear. "Are you sure you aren't too tired? Tonight is about you." He said but didn't pull your hand away as you palmed him through his pants making him groan. You turned your body, facing him as you kept one hand on him, feeling him twitch under your hand and the other curled in his hair again. Your lips brushed against his.

"The only thing I want tonight is you." You breathed against his lips before kissing him. In an instant his hands were on you again, his body over you as he returned the kiss. It was slow, passionate. Usually his kisses were rough, fast. But tonight was different. Tonight he could have lost you. And it would have been his fault. He felt emotions he had never felt before as he moved your hands gently away from him, holding your wrists loosely with one hand as he pulled your pants down with the other. You helped kick them off once they got low enough. Pulling back from the kiss as you looked up at him.

After a few more minutes, touches and kisses, his own pants were discarded. He moved your legs onto his shoulders as your body was pulled down the bed, closer to him as he teased your entrance with his cock. You both moaned, shivering at the feeling as you looked up at him. You didn't need to beg, not tonight. He needed it just as much as you.

You felt him enter you, inch by inch as he stretched you. You felt every nerve in your body shoot with that sweet feeling. The stretch of his cock made your mouth open in a needy cry. His eyes watching your face, your reaction to him. It never grew old, seeing you shake in pleasure before he even began. He turned his head, leaving kisses on your calf and knee as his grip tightened around your thighs.

As he began to move your eyes closed, consumed by the pleasure of him. "I wish I could stay like this forever." You moaned, not even thinking as you said it. You didn't care, he felt too good and honestly, your words held truth. He chuckled slightly, the sound strained as he groaned in pleasure as you clenched around him. You felt him twitch inside you at your words, his thrusts getting slightly rougher.

"Keep talking like that kitten and I just might." He said, his voice rough as he lifted your hips slightly, thrusting down into you deeper. You cried out, hands moving to claw the bedsheets. "Seeing you moan under me, all needy. So wet and desperate for me. All mine." He purred as his thrusts got more irregular. Your heart pounded as you heard his words, your mind racing with thoughts and imagery that nearly pushed you over the edge.

His hand moved between your thighs, brushing against your clit again as he kissed your leg again, looking down at you. A thin layer of sweat was on his forehead, his hair clinging to the area. His face was blushed, his eyes glossy and lips parted and swollen. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him.

You felt him release deep inside you, the feeling sent you over the edge as he fucked you through both of your orgasms. The sound of heavy breath filled the room as he slowly pulled out, your legs feeling numb as he gently laid them down as he climbed back beside you, pulling you into his arms.

His kisses peppered your skin, his hands held you close as he felt you relax against his chest. After a while he would help clean you up again, but for now he wanted to cherish this time with you. There was no rush. And tomorrow? Tomorrow was reserved for him to pamper you no matter what you wanted. He felt guilty for letting what happened happen tonight. He would never tell you, he knew you would know from the extra displays of gifts and affection. But nonetheless, he vowed to never let anything like that happen ever again.

No matter what. 

[sunrenity]

umbrella ✶ yjw

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ the school's student council president shares his umbrella with you.

yang jungwonㅤ✶ㅤfemale reader  .  g  fluff, classmates to lovers (kind of?), high school au, stuco pres! jungwon  .  wc  650 (0.6k)  .  bookshelf

THE RAIN POURED DOWN in heavy sheets, each droplet creating a mesmerizing dance as it collided with the ground. the school's courtyard was transformed into a glistening, silver expanse, with puddles forming in every depression. seeking refuge from the downpour, you stood beneath the protective awning, hoping that the storm would soon relent.

however, the sky showed no sign of clearing, and a sense of resignation washed over you as you realized that you would have to embark on the journey home alone and thoroughly drenched.

lost in your contemplation of this unenviable fate, a sudden voice pierced through the rhythmic drumming of the rain. "hey, need some help?"

you turned to see yang jungwon, the student council president, standing beside you. his black hair was slightly tousled, a few droplets of rain clinging to his forehead, and his eyes sparkled with a warmth that contrasted with the dreary weather. in his hand, he held a large, navy blue umbrella.

your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. despite being classmates, you rarely had the chance to talk to him outside of class. the fact that he was now offering you help made your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement.

"i—" you started, a little flustered, "i was just waiting for the rain to settle down or at least drizzle, but it doesn't seem like it's going to happen anytime soon."

jungwon's smile widened, and he took a step closer, extending the umbrella toward you. "it's really coming down, isn't it? why don't we share this? i can walk you home."

you glanced at the umbrella, then back at him, your heart racing. "are you sure? i mean, won't you get wet?"

"i'll be fine," he assured you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "besides, it's better than you walking home in this downpour."

there was a moment of hesitation before you nodded, grateful for his kindness. "thank you, jungwon. that would be great."

he stepped under the awning, opening the umbrella fully. as you both stepped out into the rain, he made sure to hold the umbrella over you, careful to keep you as dry as possible. the two of you walked closely, the space beneath the umbrella forcing a certain intimacy that made your heart flutter. you could feel the warmth of his presence beside you, a stark contrast to the cool rain that surrounded you.

as you walked, your hands brushed against each other occasionally, sending electric tingles up your arm each time. you both talked about small things — homework, the latest school events — but each word carried a weight of unspoken feelings, of the crush you both harbored but were too shy to admit.

the journey home felt too short, and as you approached your house, the rain showed no sign of letting up. you turned to jungwon, finding it hard to mask the disappointment in your eyes. "thank you so much for walking me home. i don't know what i would've done without you."

jungwon looked at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "anytime," he replied. there was a brief pause, and then, almost as if on impulse, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

your eyes widened in surprise, a blush spreading across your cheeks. "jungwon..."

his own face was slightly flushed as he pulled back, the smile still on his face but now with a hint of nervousness. "i'll see you at school tomorrow," he said softly, giving you one last look before turning to leave.

as you watched him disappear into the rain, your heart swelled with a warmth that rivaled the summer sun. you touched the spot on your cheek where his lips had been, a shy smile spreading across your face. it seemed that the storm had brought more than just rain; it had brought the promise of something new and wonderful.

© sunrenity , don't plagiarize, steal or repost my work on any platform !

network, @enchive

[kaliforniahigh]

Hey! I'm the anon that asked for a story for each version of Noah lol. I just wanted to say thank you! and each story has been amazing!! 🥵💯 Thank you again! 🫶🏻

Hii, anon! I'm glad you liked it! Since you're back, I'm gonna use this ask to post the third and final story. This is type 3 Noah, so expect a lot of fluffiness. Just to remind y'all, I'm referring to this post.

Warnings: smut, really soft though ;')

Not proofread!

You've been snuggled under the covers for a couple of hours now, watching some reruns of your favorite series, drifting in and out of sleep with the feeling of Noah's hands on your hair.

You liked times like these. The house was quiet, the room was dark and you had a relaxing candle burning on the bedside table and your boyfriend snuggling you. You couldn't ask for anything else.

As you laid back on his chest, you noticed he was incredibly distracted by your left hand, fingers grazing over your knuckles softly. You let a few seconds pass by before you ask him "what's on your mind?"

He directed his attention back to you. "Oh, nothing, just..." he trailed off, a little unsure of his next words "just thinking about how pretty your hand would look with a gold band right here", he pointed to your ring finger.

Talking about marriage wasn't a foreign concept for the both of you, but he was never so direct before, and it left you a little speechless, before you recovered yourself. "I think a gold band would look incredible in contrast with the tattoos you have on your fingers"

He sofly grabbed the side of your face, prompting you to turn around and face him. "You think so?", he had the most beautiful bashful smile across his face. As if the idea of you wanting to marry him was a surprise. There is never day that goes by that you don't think about spending forever with him.

"I know so", you said, with the most certainty in your voice. He pulled you in for a soft kiss, cradling your face in earnest. "Well then, Mrs Davis, I would like to show you how much I love you on this wonderful night", he said in a whisper, as he moved to your neck and collarbone.

"Of course, Mr. Davis. You can do as you please"

So he traveled lower, eventually getting himself covered by the comforter that was over the two of you. You could feel his breath on your thighs, as you decided to skip on the pants for the ultimate comfort.

He placed some light kisses there, squeezing the outside of your thighs with his strong hands, but every movement felt as soft as the feel of his lips on you. He eventually pushed your panties to the side, placing his mouth where you wanted him the most.

His ministrations were slow and precise, showing you that he wanted to take his time with you tonight. He alternated between using his mouth and fingers to trace lazy circles, as you let out soft pants.

Soon you could feel the tight knot wanting to unravel, as he noticed this, he pulled the covers off, stoping for a minute to take your hands in his and intertwine your fingers, placing your connected palms on your stomach.

"I can't wait to do this with you on our first night officially married", he said a little out of breath. And his words were all you needed to finally let go, squeezing his hand that was on yours, as his other one ran up and down your leg.

When he noticed you were ready to come down from your high, he kissed his way up, back to place his lips on yours, as he pushed a few strands of hair that got in your face.

"I still have to buy you a ring and think of the perfect way to propose to you. But you don't know how happy it makes me that you wanna be on this journey with me", you could hear the adoration and devotion in his words.

Taking his face in your hands, you reassured him "there was nowhere else I would rather be, but on this journey with you"

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[chiaraswritings]

I feel like AT the restaurant they go to, Batmom goes into labor. She feels her first contraction, then spills her water on herself from the shock of it. Bruce does not believe her and they bicker about it with Y/N going “would I REALLY lie about this!?” And her husband gives her a look. Then she starts debating if it was gas or a contraction, or what have you.

It isn’t till Alfred comes back from the bathroom that the rush would start.

Batprank (Pt. 2)

Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.

Warnings & Topics: Very light argument, pregnancy, pranking, contractions, labor, delivery, newborn, parents holding newborn. 18+. If these are sensitive topics for you, go ahead and skip this one.

Word Count: 2K words

Summary: Batmom!reader goes into labor at her favorite restaurant and gives birth to her baby with her husband close by in Wayne Manor.

Author's Note: You guys crack me up, great part two idea, anon. It's pretty light-hearted at first, but towards the end of the story, I included a birth scene. I've never gotten to have a home birth, so I apologize if there were inaccuracies. Let me know if you want a part three. Thank you for all the incredible support, and I hope you enjoy.

Part One

Warm August sun tickled my nose as I stepped out of the car, taking a little more time than I was comfortable admitting, caused by nearly nine months of pregnancy's effect on my stomach. Not that I was complaining. I  was thrilled to be having Bruce's baby. It fulfilled the desire to be a mother that I'd had for years, and to be having a child with the love of my life? A fairytale come true. Even if we couldn't agree on baby names, even when I pulled labor pranks on my husband, even when I was being bombarded with concern by all our family members, especially our children. Earlier in the afternoon I had played a tremendous joke on all our family members, except for the all-knowing Alfred, pretending to have gone into labor. It was very convincing, and somehow we wound up at my favorite diner in the process of driving to the hospital. 

I joined my husband in the empty restaurant. It was three o'clock, the last customers of the lunch rush were slowly shuffling out the door, and it looked like the dinner rush had not yet made an appearance. I smiled at him as I intertwined my fingers with his, sliding into the booth next to him where he waited for the takeout order he had just put in.

"You could've waited in the car, it'll be ready soon," he pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I smiled, practically melting into his embrace, laying my hand on my stomach. 

"That's okay, I kinda wanted water while we wait for it." I gave my husband a quick look. 

"Heh, and I'm guessing you need me to get that for you?"

"Obviously, you got me pregnant, now you get to take care of me." I slid out of the booth to allow him access to the soda fountain, tapping my foot in mock impatience. 

"You scared me to death with that prank of yours earlier, don't push it," he chuckled, rising and pressing a kiss to my cheek before going to retrieve my water. 

I rolled my eyes at him, sitting back down in the booth, still with a playful smile on my face. "I love you, Bruce."

"Uh-huh." He set the cup of water on the table in front of me before leaning down to place a loving kiss on my lips. As I returned the kiss, our order number was called from the front counter. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," I smiled and turned to the water cup in front of me, sipping from it and relaxing against the faux leather seat. I drummed my fingers against my stomach and thought about our unborn daughter, just as I had every day for the last six months. How happy Bruce would look when he held her for the first time. How her little fingers and toes would look. How excited Alfred and the kids would be to hear that she was finally born. It'd been a long and interesting journey for all of us, and it would soon come to its end. 

The realization that the kids were still at home in a state of panic hit me harder than a cold pool on a hot summer day. "Shit," I muttered, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Stephanie's number. She was the most likely to answer, I knew, and I was right.

"Hello?!" The excited squeal made me pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. 

"Hello, Stephanie, I just wanted to let you all know... could you put the call on speaker, please?" 

“Yeah! Okay, there you go, tell us what’s happening!” Stephanie’s excitement was pouring through the speaker of my phone like water. 

“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?!” I could hear Jason’s voice, much more awake than when we had left the manor to rush to the hospital.

“I figured I needed to let you guys all know that my going into labor was a-” at that very moment I felt it, a long, drawn-out and yet sharp pain moving through my lower abdomen. It stunned me nearly into silence, accidentally spilling half of the contents of my water cup onto my lap. It almost felt like the horrible menstrual cramps that I hadn’t felt for such a long time.

“Mom? It was a what?” Tim’s voice broke through the pause. 

“Oh, not a prank, not a prank, not a prank!” I groaned as the pain rippled through my lower stomach. Not that it was unmanageable, it was just so surprising and… a tiny bit terrifying. No, it was very terrifying. The due date wasn’t for two more weeks, I didn’t expect this, I hadn’t mentally prepared, this was truly scary.

“Not a prank?” It was Tim again. “What do you mean, we know that.” 

“I didn’t mean anything!” I took two deep breaths as the sharp pain faded into a dull throb, then almost disappeared. “Just… forget I said anything! We’ll give you an update soon, love you lots, bye,” I ended the call before the curious group on the other end could get another word in. 

As I set down the phone on the table with a thud, my husband arrived by my side with a plastic bag. “Are you ready to… what’s wrong?” He set it down, kneeling to inspect my tense face.

“I… I think I just got a contraction,” I whispered, looking over to him. 

Bruce looked from my face, to the spilled water in my lap, then back to my face before standing. “Nice try, honey, let’s get going.”

“No! No, I mean it!” I looked up at him, grabbing his hand with mine in a death grip. “I’m not kidding this time. I’m not. You have to believe me.”

My husband looked at me for a moment before kneeling next to me again. “(Y/N), are you being serious? You know the story of the boy who cried wolf, don’t you?”

“Would I really lie about this, Bruce?!” I looked down at my stomach and pressed my fingers to the underside. “I swear, I felt it, I felt a contraction!” 

My statement was met with a look of doubt. “(Y/N), we’re two weeks away from the due date, I’m sure it was just… gas or discomfort, it couldn’t have been a contraction.” 

I returned his look with a withering glance. “Bruce Wayne, I swear, that was not gas. I think I’d know the difference.” 

“Honey, you can’t be having contractions yet…” Bruce’s confidence was starting to crack. He gave my stomach a worried look. 

“Oh yes I can, you know that babies can come anytime they choose.”

“Was that the only one?”

“Yeah, that was the only one.”

“Then… it was probably just…” 

“Master Bruce, Madam (Y/N), we had better start moving if we want to miss the rush hour,” Alfred’s calm voice broke through Bruce’s thought. He had stepped into the restaurant in search of us, given that we were ordering takeout, not dining in.

“Alfred! Alfred, I think I got a contraction, we have to call the midwife right now.” I stood, using the table for support. My husband handed off the plastic bag of food to Alfred, catching my arm to assist me. 

“Will we be heading home or to the hospital, sir?” Alfred quirked an eyebrow towards Bruce, just as skeptical as he was. 

“We’ll… let’s call the midwife in the car and go from there.” Bruce looked at me, starting to believe my words.

“Yes, let’s… just get her on the phone, please.” 

...

A few minutes later, we were heading back to the manor. The midwife had advised me to remain in a comfortable space to monitor my contractions on my own, to see if it was really gas, false labor, or the real thing. The original plan was to give birth in the manor, unless something unexpected (such as my water breaking before my due date) occurred. The midwife and her birth team assured me that they were just a phone call away, and with that in mind, we started driving back towards the manor. 

Bruce did everything to make sure I was comfortable, in the car and back in our bedroom once we had arrived home. The kids crowded around me at first, until a growl and firm command from Bruce sent them all back to their rooms. I was resting in our large, plush bed, my hand resting on my stomach, when the next contraction made its way through my body, then the next, then the next, still minutes apart, but becoming more and more consistent. Now that Bruce was convinced that I was actually going into labor, he was the most attentive husband on earth, holding me close with one arm and keeping his other hand on my stomach. 

“I knew this was going to happen, but… I didn’t think that it’d happen so soon,” I looked up at him, trying to relax after a contraction had passed. 

“I didn’t think so either,” he replied, massaging the side of my tummy. “But, you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

The pain was alleviated through his massages and gentle words. “Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

…

Labor was long and longer. Since it was my first baby, the risk was higher, but we wanted to prevent any danger of kidnapping or switched babies, especially since Bruce was in such a spotlight. I found myself in different positions as the night dragged on, the midwife’s reassuring words and Bruce’s concerned yet comforting presence carrying me through the delivery of our baby. Even when I felt for a moment that I couldn’t go on, my husband’s kisses to my shoulder and forehead kept me from giving up. Not that I really had a choice, of course. And yet that one moment was worth it all. 

I’ll never forget the moment the tiny, crying baby was put on my chest, as the midwife maneuvered me from my birthing position to lay on my back. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even register for a moment what was happening, until I was sprawling against the pillows and my newborn daughter was on my skin, her whimpering, suckling noises were music to my ears. Holding her close, I closed my eyes in relief, nearly unaware of what was going on around me. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man who had supported me from beginning to end. “Bruce, we did it.” 

“Yes, you did it, I knew you could.” He was looking at the tiny human in my arms with a sort of awe. 

I smiled, my thumbs stroking her back, though she was still covered in fluids. I was half mindful of the midwife asking Bruce to cut the umbilical cord, most of my focus was spent on examining my daughter’s tiny fingers that moved so slowly, as if they were trying to figure out this new environment.

Seeing the love of my life hold our child for the first time was as perfect and pure as I knew it would be. Once she was wiped clean and wrapped in a cloth, Bruce was able to hold her to his own chest, staring down at her with the same awe that hadn’t left his face. I could see her eyes were open, and she was staring up at him. In this wonderful moment, I knew that it had all been worth it, and that she would never have to be alone, that he was always going to be right there for her.

Bruce finally placed her back in my arms, and I held the little bundle of moving arms and legs close again, looking up at him with a smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I told you it wasn’t a prank.” 

[reve-writes]

—dense; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 2,2k words. ʚ you're a bit clueless as to why the dirtyhands do the things he does, like call you schatje and pay you to steal something when he clearly doesn't need to. ʚ fluff. ʚ a/n maybe ooc kaz im sorry. more at the end!

Ketterdam is a marvel from afar, a pretty little flower offering promises of its nectar—new life, new opportunities, debauchery—only to catch you in its trap and swallow you whole. All the way up on the clock tower, roughly centralised in the port city, the Barrel is nothing more than bright lights emanating from bar signs and glittering roofs.

The bell rings, reveberating to signal the change of the hour. It's time to work, finally.

Your boots thump as you make your way down the spiraling concrete staircase, paying attention not to step on the chunks flaking off of the edge. Whoever was responsible for building this was clearly cutting cost, the concrete is about as fragile as clay.

A painting. It is an annoying job to do on your own, but your contractor offered a lot of Kruge for it—perhaps too much, but if Mr. Kikkert is willing to scrape his pockets for it, then you're more than happy to accept. It is more Kruge than you would ever need for a while, so you won't have to scrounge for scraps in this Ghezen-forsaken town. Moreover, it's been a while since your last job and you're frankly not doing too well.

You step lightly over the rooftops, hopping from building-to-building with sure, steady steps. You have done this for most of your lives, to avoid being stomped into the vile muck at the bottom of the Barrel, you learned to hide near the skies.

Where the painting is being kept isn't far from the Canal, just on the rows of overpriced apartments for rent. You were told that it was housed on the third floor of the corner building. Everything is going well. Your journey is uninterrupted and the stadwatch aren't on alert.

Until you spot him.

The familiar curve of his black hat. The high collar of his coat. The shining leather of his gloves.

Brekker.

You strut towards him as if you are neighbours crossing paths on your evening walks. When in truth, his Crow Club is on the other side of the town and you never come to this area without reason. You call his name sweetly. His head whips around immediately, finding you in the dwindling foot traffic of the street.

He says your name in a warning tone, suspicious of your being here.

“What? Can't I come and see an old friend?”

Brekker scoffs. “I don't know. Can you, schatje?”

You almost turn around and leave when you hear the term of endearment. He knows it gets under your skin—it always does. Your heart skips a beat or two and your train of thoughts gets interrupted whenever he calls you that. He means it as a jeering nudge and your head is wholly aware of that. Your heart, though. What a fickle little thing.

“A bit of a walk from the club, isn't it?” you say, falling into step next to him as he turns the corner towards the apartment building. “I assume you must be up to something.”

“Ah, but I'm always up to something.”

“I can't say I disagree,” you snort. “You don't happen to have a job around the area, do you?”

He halts, his cane knocking against the stone pathing. He turns to look at you and your elbows brush against each other. “Do you need anything? I have important matters to attend to.”

You bring a hand to your chest exaggeratedly, feigning a frown. “How callous. Call me schatje and throw me aside. Is this how you treat everyone, Kaz?”

“Only you, mijn schatje.”

You roll your eyes, unsure how to behave. Huffing, you say, “Stop calling me that.”

“I was under the impression that you liked the nickname.”

Oh, you do.

“I'll be going now. I've something to do. Stay off my job,” you warn. “You still owe me literal crown jewels from last time.”

Kaz's neutral expression shifts into fond nostalgia as he recalls the incident you're referring to. The crown jewels in question were under dispute by a pair of soon-to-be divorcees. One of them hired the Crows' help. The other called on you. One thing led to another and the item ended up in Kaz's hands and you went home empty-handed.

“I won that fair and square,” Kaz retorts. “Your current job wouldn't involve a certain painting, would it?”

Judging by his smug thin smile, you know that he knows.

“Tell me it isn't what you're here for.” You sigh exasperatedly. “Stay off of it, Brekker. I can't afford to lose another job.”

You think to be threatening, bluff your way out and tell him you'll tear down his Crow Club if he gets in your way, but you doubt it will work against the Dirtyhands. After all, you're one person and he has the whole Dregs behind him.

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment and for that terrible moment, you think that he may be there for the same reason you are, but he shakes his head lightly. “Fortunately, schatje, no. Stop looking as if you're going to murder me in my sleep.”

An involuntary smile blooms. “I wouldn't dream of it, Kaz.”

“Go on, then,” he says. “Be careful.”

You bite the insides of your cheeks to keep from smiling. “You too.”

With that, you part ways with Dirtyhands, entering the building. Your acquisition of the painting goes smoothly and the deal is closed swiftly a few hours later. It's too easy. You know it is. You're missing something.

Miss something, you did.

You push open the door to the Crow Club carelessly. The loud chatter mixed with atmospheric radio surges to meet you as you push your way past sweat-slicked bodies and drunken patrons. Your eyes dart back-and-forth, trying to spot the familiar curve of his black hat or the shiny glow of the head of his cane.

Jesper spots you from one of the open gambling tables.

“If it isn't my favourite thief,” he says, inclining his glass towards you. “Fancy a game?”

It isn't until you stop by his table that he sees the downward slope of your frown and the sharp glare you're giving. He instinctively sits up straighter, taking his shoes off of the corner of the table.

“Where's Brekker?” You ask, to-the-point, without indulging in your usual chit-chat whenever you visit.

The other three patrons on the table freeze—sensing the tension on your shoulders, too. They look between you and jesper, both confused and intrigued to know more. What is Ketterdam if it doesn't have rumours and secrets whispered about?

Jesper's brow furrow. “Are you okay? What's going on?”

To Jesper's knowledge, you and Kaz are on friendly terms, despite the frequent bickering. Hell, he assumes you're more-than-friendly, with the way Kaz gives you a nickname—an endearment, to be specific. Is it possible that you're going through a lover's spat?

“Brekker, Jesper. Where is he?”

A familiar rasp cuts through the rowdiness. “Here.”

Your head whirls around and you shoot an accusatory stare at the source of the voice. You stomp your boots as you make your way towards him. As you pass by him, you tug on the sleeves of his coat.

“We need to talk.”

“Hold on, schatje,” he says, still trailing after you. His cane knocks against the hardwood of the floor. “About what?”

You make your way up the stairs, to the second floor and swing the door to his office open as if it belongs to you. He has an eyebrow raised when he enters after you, closing the door behind him. He leans back against it, waiting for you to speak whatever it is that's on your mind.

“Kikkert,” you snarl. “You paid him to pay me.”

“That's quite a conclusion. How did you come to it?” His voice is level, not betraying whether or not you've spoken the truth.

You're pacing in front of him. “He says, and I quote, ‘If you're so close to Brekker, why doesn't he ask you himself to do this?'”

His eyes furrow and he runs a hand through his combed hair. He sighs, holding a hand up in a you-caught-me gesture. “Kikkert clearly has no idea what discretion means.”

You glare at him. “Do you think this is funny?”

He seems taken aback. “I don't see why this is a big deal, schatje. It's a job. You're paid. I get the painting. What's wrong with it?”

“Why are you doing this, then? Pay me for something you clearly are able to do yourself? Hell, whose painting was it? Was it yours? Did you pay me to steal from you?”

He doesn't reply, but the way he shifts his gaze away from you let's you know. It's as clear as a verbal admission.

“It was yours. That's why you were there. From your safehouse, wasn't it?” You stare at him in disbelief. “Is this amusing to you? I'm sorry if I don't quite see it as such.”

“Schatje—”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

You can't wrap your head around Kaz Brekker's thinking process. He pays someone to pay you to steal a painting he already owns. What's his plan in the long run? To embarrass you? Hurt your pride? Is this some sort of ploy to rope you to be indebted to him?

He sighes. “You were struggling. I only wanted to help.”

“Dirtyhands doesn't help people. You don't run gangs the way you do charities,” you retort.

Is that all you see him as? The demjin? The one who's willing to stain his hands for the right price? Is there no other version of him in your eyes?

“You're forgetting the man behind the monster here,” he says softly.

“Am I?” You approach him, leaving a little over two steps in-between the two of you. “Who exactly is the man behind Dirtyhands then?”

He pushes himself off of the door, taking one step forward. The thump of his cane practically echoes in the room. The hustle bustle of the Crow Club is nothing more than a muffled sound. There's a sudden tension in the air—the same one that hangs over you whenever he calls you his schatje, but this one is heavier due to your lack of light-hearted banter to parry.

“Do you really not know?” he asks, as if the question is staring at you in the face. As if it's the most obvious thing in all of Kerch. His stare is heavy, dark irises acting like magnets that pull you in. He scoffs, “You really are dense.”

“Well, enlighten me, Brekker! None of this is making a lot of sense to me.” You let out a frustrated huff of breath. Your hands move wildly to stress your points. “You know what? Whatever it is, I don't want to know. Just — quit doing it. I'll never take another job from Kikkert. I'll stay away from your damned club and all your friends. I'll stay away from you. I'm a capable enough thief without your pity, Brekker. I don't need it. You can shove it up your—”

His gloved hand wraps around your wrist as it's flailing in the air. Your speech immediately comes to a halt and your eyes widen.

“You are impossible,” he says.

You snort. “And you aren't?”

“At the moment, no,” he retorts.

His stare is intense. It isn't until then that you realise you've taken a step forward during your rant, decreasing the perfectly amicable distance and turning it into a heart-thundering one.

“It wasn't pity,” he says. “You're capable, I have never doubted that, but even the most capable ones struggle sometimes. My intention is to help. Trust me on this. I know you're too prideful to accept any, so I paid Kikkert.”

“But why? Why bother?”

“Why?” He blinks, sighing loudly before continuing. “Why? Have you ever stopped and thought, for a moment, that I've been calling you schatje. Do you think that was out of pity?”

You bite the insides of your cheek and shake your head. “It was something else.”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that it's because —ghezen forbid— I may actually harbour fondness for you?”

You blink once, twice. Kaz thinks he much prefers breaking into the ice court than having this conversation right now. His hand trembles when he brings them to brush your cheekbone lightly. He lets out a relieved sigh when you don't pull back. Your hand wraps over his gloved one, the leather cold on your skin. You lean into the touch.

“I thought it was one-sided,” you say finally. “I'm quite fond of you, too, you know.”

“You do a horrible job of showing it.”

“Says you,” you argue. “Just—don't do it again. Let me handle my own problems, Kaz. I'll let you know if I need your help.”

He hums in agreement. “You'll let me know.”

“I will.”

The two of you jump apart abruptly when there's a loud knock.

“Boss?” Jesper's voice sounds muffled through the door. “Everything okay? I hope ___ hasn't murdered you yet.”

“I haven't,” you answer, half-chuckling. Turning to look at Kaz, you say, “It's funny how he doesn't assume you'll murder me instead.”

Kaz shrugs. “He knows I can't.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Can't or won't?”

“Both,” he answers. “Can we not talk about murdering each other after what just happened?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. What just happened is you practically professing your little (well, maybe not-so-little) crush on him.

“So, is Kaz okay?” Jesper shouts again.

“Fine,” Kaz answers. “You can go back to your table.”

[ ]

i wanted to write something cute. schatje is taken from google and inspired from a kaz fic i read that used 'schatz' as a nickname. the plot is slightly ehhh? because it didn't really end the way i intended it to and i didn't proofread (when have i ever?). i was hoping to turn it into a two or three part series, but this is what we've ended up with & im quite happy with it. thank you for reading!

[theunsinkableship1]

Things are not always what they seem...

⚠️Disclaimer: This is Lukolaland only. If you don't believe you should skip. No harm intended and no hard feelings. Only strong feelings here.

Dear Lukola Shippers,

I hope this message finds you well, no matter where in the world you are. Though I’ve been mostly quiet recently, I want you to know I’m still firmly aboard this ship, and the waters have felt calmer of late. We are witnessing great waves of success coming to our Lukola. Watching them thrive individually and achieve such success is a joy, it’s wonderful to see them striving and thriving in their unique journeys.

Today, I’d like to open up about something personal. It’s a topic that requires sensitivity but resonates deeply with what we often discuss as a community. Appearances can be deceiving.

Humans are complex beings, and we can never be entirely certain of what’s happening behind closed doors. Even when all signs seem to point in one direction, the reality could be something entirely different.

When I was younger, I was in relationships that seemed one way from the outside but were very different beneath the surface. Back then, I was seen as someone confident and put-together a "popular girl," if you will. But inside, I felt like a wallflower. People were drawn to the version of me they saw, not the person I truly was.

In one relationship, I fell deeply in love. To the outside world, we looked like the perfect couple. But the reality was far from that. I was shy and cautious, but I fell for one of the hit boys. I was deeply in love, but he wasn’t. I became more of a mix between a prop and a seat filler in his life. While I was publicly acknowledged, I wasn’t truly valued in his heart. Being young and in love, I sometimes acted jealous and irrationally, making poor decisions in my attempt to hold on to the relationship. While I gave my all, I never was someone that he truly cherished. I was young and blinded by my feelings, so I clung tightly to the relationship, convincing myself and others that everything was fine. Looking back, I realize that what people saw from the outside, the smiles, the handholding, was a façade for a connection that didn’t exist in his heart. His attention was always somewhere else.

Later, I entered another relationship. I was tired of being alone. All my friends were in relationships, and I found myself longing for one too. This time, it was with someone I became very close to through mutual friends. Though we had a strong bond, we quickly realized we weren’t a romantic match. Yet, for two years, we stayed in a "relationship" because it worked for both of us at that time, he was coming to terms with his own identity, and I was healing and waiting for the right person. To the outside world, we were a couple. We even lived together and shared milestones. But in reality, we were best friends who blurred the lines of companionship. Only our close friends knew the truth: to the outside world, we appeared to be a couple, but in reality, we were just best friends. Sometimes, things can get messy, and lines blur. While I was in this pretend relationship, someone from my past reentered my life, wanting to marry me. Things moved quickly, and even though my friend knew our arrangement was temporary and understood the situation, there might have been some emotional complexity. Perhaps I was ready to move on before he was, or maybe it was because we were emotionally intertwined in many ways. Societal perceptions could have played a role as well. I’m still not entirely sure. After my wedding, we went our separate ways. Though we remain on friendly terms, we are no longer close, and I haven’t heard from him in years.

Life is full of such complexities. For example, I have a chronic hormonal condition that, at times, makes me appear pregnant when I’m not. Years ago, this led to assumptions and speculation, especially early in my marriage. People congratulated me on pregnancies that didn’t exist, which was deeply painful as I faced uncertainty about whether I could have children. It taught me how much appearances can mislead even well-meaning people.

So, why share all this? Because as fans, it’s easy to speculate about the lives of people we admire. But the truth is, only they know what’s happening behind closed doors. I’ve noticed many people dismiss or deny the bond between them, but I believe we can’t be doubtful of its existence. I’m confident they are also aware of what they share. What we’re speculating about is what’s truly happening behind the scenes and why things are unfolding the way they are.

It all comes down to perception and observation. There’s something peculiar about this situation, too many coincidences for certain things to be purely incidental. Patterns emerge that can be explained rationally, and those who pay close attention recognize the mixed messages that make a straightforward narrative unlikely. Occam’s razor doesn’t apply neatly here.

Moreover, we have public evidence, not just imagined scenarios, that suggests there’s been something deeper between them at some point. The idea that 'there’s nothing more' doesn’t hold water because, where there’s smoke, there’s fire.

Appearances, whether on red carpets, social media, or interviews can only tell part of the story. And while our love for Luke and Nicola is real and rooted in admiration for their talent and chemistry, we must tread lightly.

I adore Luke’s subtle and nuanced acting and his incredible singing voice, which has a charm that captivates. Nicola’s range as an actress is extraordinary, and her vibrant personality shines through in everything she does. I support them both as individuals and as a couple because they make me believe in their connection.

I remain here because I believe in the love they seem to share, whether it’s in a glance, a gesture, or an unspoken understanding. Until the day there’s unequivocal proof otherwise, I’ll keep believing because they make me feel the love.

With love and hope,

The unsinkable ship 🚢

[yourssincerely-mimi]

The Car's Outside.

𐙚 - he's not going in his Addison Lee.

PAIRINGS - bf!heeseung X reader

MIMI'S NOTE: Hii! I have awakend from my eternal writers block!! i'm sorry i haven't posted a lot.. so here's a little blurb about he(e) and you! I wanted to experiment with some things, so it might feel off or weird :) I made this in de dead of night. so it's bound to have mistakes, typos, etc :) Please, do enjoy and don't hold back on feedback!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Your hands trembled as you zipped up your suitcase. The soft hum of an engine outside your window made your heart skip a beat. You knew it was him. Taking a deep breath, you walked to the window. There it was- Heeseung's Acura RDX, parked under the streetlight. Just like it had been countless times before. But this time was different. This time was goodbye.

You grabbed your bag and made your way downstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. You opened the front door, their eyes met. His face was a mixture of hope and resignation.

"Hey," he said softly, leaning against the car.

"Hi," You replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Finally, Heeseung opened the passenger door.

"One last drive?" he asked.

You nodded, sliding into the familiar seat. As they drove through the quiet streets of their hometown, memories flooded back - first dates, late-night adventures, whispered promises of forever.

But forever had run its course.

Heeseung drove aimlessly, neither of them wanting the journey to end. They passed by the diner where they had their first date and the little bookstore where they spent countless Sundays browsing together.

"Remember when we got caught in that thunderstorm at the beach?" Heeseung asked, breaking the silence.

You couldn't help but smile. "How could I forget? We were soaked to the bone, but you still insisted on finishing our picnic under that tiny umbrella."

They both laughed, the sound bittersweet in the confines of the car.

As they approached the airport, the laughter faded, replaced by the heavy reality of what was to come. He pulled into the parking lot, killing the engine. The silence was deafening.

"I guess this is it," You said, your voice cracking.

Heeseung's hand reached for yours hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll always love you, you know that, right?"

You nodded, tears streaming down your face. "I know. I'll always love you too."

They sat there for a moment, neither wanting to be the first to let go. Finally, you took a deep breath and reached for the door handle.

"Wait," Heeseung said, his voice urgent. He leaned over and kissed you softly, one last time. It was a kiss filled with all the words they couldn't say, all the memories they'd shared, and all the dreams they were letting go. "I don't wanna leave you anymore.."

When they parted, you saw tears in his eyes too. You never saw him this emotional, it broke your heart more than it needed to be. You carefully went over his cheek with your thumb.

"I promise, I'll come back.. Just.. we met at a wrong time, and you deserve more than I can offer.." Tears slowly started swelling in your eyes.

Both of you let go, knowing you couldn't turn back anymore. You opened his car door one last time, and took out your suitcase out his trunk, one final time.

Both of you couldn't stand the thought of seeing each other like this. Yet, you kept looking inside those tear-filled eyes. One final time, before leaving. Leaving him and his car, staying outside.

masterlist !!

perm taglist : dm me, send an ask, or leave a comment under my masterlist !!

[judesmoonbeauty]

IkeVil Act 2 Prologue Thoughts & Theories

This will contain spoilers, and some 18+ remarks at the end, so MDNI. Please see under the cut. As usual, these are just my thoughts and feelings.This is a word salad. And not that this is important or anything, but I was totally listening to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake while writing this.

My first thought is: That's it?! With the Act 1 prologue being as long as it is, and even with other IkeSeries games like Pri, I felt it was too short. I was expecting and wanting more. Perhaps, Cybird will release more later, but I doubt it. Seems that they are keeping Vogel underwraps as much as they can. Less is more, maybe that's what they were thinking?

Next: The spotlight is on Vogel (as it should be), since they're apparently debuting with Roger's route. We're excited to meet them, still I didn't like that other than Victor and Harry (with his two lines of actual dialogue), no other Crown members had any lines. Their sprites just pop up (sans William because he's away per Victor), to show that they were present. Where is that amazing stare-off that went down in Roger's PV?

Tell me this wasn't it! Hopefully, we get more of their first meeting within the first chapter of each of their main stories. Which leads me to......

When Act 2 Takes Place: It takes place a week after Kate's tenure of being the Fairytale Keeper begins, and honestly, I LOVE that. We need a change of pace. Now, don’t get me twisted, there's nothing wrong with seeing her start her journey from the very beginning, but consider:

Act 2 is supposed to delve deeper into the topic of the Curse itself from what I understand. If that's the case, we need to move things along. It would make storytelling easier (I feel), if Kate has already spent a week with the villains and isn't completely ignorant about curses.

Also, we're moving further along in the routes, which tend to become progressively darker with each route passing (my opinion), not starting from the day after she arrives at the Castle will allow the writers to delve deeper into things, and give us more chapters for - hopefully - more lore.

I mean when Roger's route finally releases, I'd expect maybe some flashbacks in chapter one of the night after Kate bumps into them on their mission, and then she agrees to be his assistant. I don't personally want an entire chapter or three of that, and I would love to see Kate already with a week's worth of experience of working with Jude & Ellis (when Jude's route releases). I want her to be someone who is already capable, not stumbling around with (How do I prove myself?), we already know how she needs to do this, as she's demonstrated in their events. Let's skip that and get to the good stuff. Now about the new meat on the market.....

Darius: Well, we all know that we can't trust him, and he's super interested in William for some reason. I'd love to see that meeting happen. His disappointed face made me chuckle when he was told that William was away, and you can clearly tell that he isn't a fan of Victor. WHY?? Is it the scones? Is it because Victor keeps his precious Cursed babies safe from those who may try to destroy his family? Can't wait for the explanation, because as Victor has said in the past, he doesn't want his time with Crown to end, and Darius seems like the one who is going to end it. I know Darius hasn't done anything yet, but I feel like I need to say this: Don't be mean to Vivi!

He seems to be focused on recruiting other cursed members into his "family", and his vision of the cursed and non-cursed joing hands together and work alongside each other (so he says).

He seems to be the big-bad (Gilbert tragic backstory vibes from this one?), I could be wrong, but that's what my gut tells me. I mean they all have one, but I feel like his is going to be twisted. A type that I am weak for.....so I am trying not to look at him at all.

Anyways....He's certainly angelic looking, and because he's wearing such an obviously painted smile, I would like to see him irked (not that I hate his character or anything), I just think it'd be funny as hell to see a blood vessel pop up on his forehead.

Nica: Right, Nica is gorgeous and he is the one I look forward to the most out of the three. His sprite has teeth when it's a full smile (congrats, my man), and a part from him making a comment that he's happy that Kate is present because he doesn't want to be stuck with a bunch of guys, he's very sharp.

He discerned by himself the real reason why she was at the castle. Also, he seems to love money and power....my other weaknesses are men who enjoy those things (stares at Jude & Silvio).....he doesn't seem to have a tyrant attitude, but I look forward to learning more about him.

Also, I have a theory I believe he may be involved with Roger's betrayal of Ellis' cursed predecessor. In Roger's main route preview:

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

Now, this could be Ring, but I think it's Nica also because of the relationship chart. I re-read the relationship chart. .

So, it'll be interesting to see how this plays out and how off I am. On to our darling......

Ring: Beloved, sweet, cold, blunt and Disney Princess Ring. He is the next villain I look forward to the most. I mean, a shared cursed ability with your twin? Moody emo vibes? Adorably quiet and strong? Please, I love him and want to cuddle him. Not to mention that skin-tight, black turtle neck....yummy. A part from this, Ring doesn't seem to like making speculations based on limited information, and I appreciate that about him. I think it's also notable that is very upfront with everyone at Crown, that if they try to harm Vogel, he won't sit quietly. Love a man of action. My question is: Why is he Darius' puppet, but not Nica? Ok, last but not least......

Sprite Designs: As usual, Nana-sensei has incorporated symbolism of their fairytale group into their clothing with lots of sharp edges. Personally, I love her art style over all, I think it's beautiful. Of note, Darius has a feather as his belt buckle and I quite like that. His brooch on his neck is the recognizable symbol of Vogel (seems like a swan's head with feathers to me), and the brooch on his floofy coat looks like the face of a swan staring at me. *Ahem* And I think his little neck window could be bigger....just saying.

Nica & Ring both have identical tassels, although they are different colors. One of their tassels likewise feature the symbol of Vogel, but the other looks like cross-hatch marks(?) Feathers(?). They apparently share the same curse, perhaps it represents their shared cursed since they are connected as twins??

They also share swan-faced holster clasps. The one on Nica holds his gun holster, and Ring's holds a book holster (?).....it looks like a book holster. Is it a book about flowers? I mean, it could be a snack pouch, but really it looks like a book holster to me. Just saying.....

Last, but not least, Nica's rings. My first thought: That's hot as hell. Next thought: Shit it's going to hurt like hell when he fingers Kate. This entire time I've been worried over William's and Jude's long ass fingernails cutting Kate up when they enter her, but this this amount of rings (assuming he doesn't remove them), that's going to scrape her so much inside. They're like a toture device.....wait.....maybe he's a sadist too? Oohh, yay if he is! Either way, he is a fan a jewelry.

Well, that's it. There's a ton more that I could write about, but I'm sleepy and I'm rambling.

[Master Lists]

[henrioo]

✦ ── FALLING IN LOVE: SANJI

Sanji x Gn! Reader

Synopsis: Where slowly Sanji realizes that his feelings for you have changed

Warnings: Pure cuteness, nothing really alarming, just a passionate and jealous Sanji

Word Count: 1,4k

Notes: This should have been an ask, but when I finished it I realized it was very different from what I had been asked and decided to do another one. But so you don't miss it, here it is being posted, I hope you like it. Sorry for the English

Notes edit: Pronouns have been updated to neuter thanks to @waitingmydemons , thanks sweetie

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

It's really not a secret that Sanji is a bit emotional and has a tendency to fall in love with pretty people, so when you introduced yourself as a new crew member with that bright yet nervous smile, no one would really be surprised if he had hearts eyes and a wide mouth.

Of course, initially he wouldn't think he was really in love, after all he doesn't consider himself a one-man man. That's why he tries to act as normal as he can around you, still having the aura of a lover and servant who would do anything for you, but also trying to convey credibility that he wasn't really in love.

Of course, he can't run away from it for long, but everything starts much slower than it seems, see:

First it starts with your kindness, you were more than excited to meet all of the crew and become friends with them, so you would walk up and down asking if you could be of assistance or just spend some time chatting to find out more about the people you now live with.

First Sanji didn't want to ask you for help, he didn't want to burden you with cooking and he also wanted to try to impress you by showing how he can handle the entire kitchen by himself. But you insisted that you could at least be of some use, so he sighed deeply and asked you to cut up some vegetables and occasionally stir certain pots or add ingredients. Nothing that could really be difficult if you were only pretending to want to help.

You might not be the best in socializing, but you were definitely doing your best to make the conversation flow naturally for both of you. So Sanji also made an effort so that you could talk calmly, he would ask a little more about your village and journey, always being careful not to press where he shouldn't, sometimes he would ask about your hobbies and food tastes, nothing really deep but that still counted.

You weren't far behind, you loved to talk and talking to Sanji was so easy! You asked about the restaurant, about Zeff, about his fighting style and his passion for cooking, even if you couldn't have known that there was a much deeper past there, you were pleased with what you discovered the first few times you started talking.

As the weeks passed and you were intimate enough with everyone, Sanji initially thought you'd drift away a bit, focused on doing your own thing and settling in on the ship. But what would be his surprise when you showed up in the kitchen not long after asking if he could stay there and keep you company while you studied some things. He didn't know what that feeling was, but his legs went weak, his heart skipped a beat, his stomach dropped, and heat surged through his body. He smiled and stammered out a statement as he tried to get back in control.

And you came back the next day, and also the next, you walked around the islands together, on the rounds... It was strange, at least for Sanji. He was close to all the members, that's clear, but he didn't feel that close to any of them. Every time you got close to him, his heart fluttered and he started stuttering, not knowing exactly how or what to say. He just needed to talk to you, whatever the subject.

He couldn't be falling in love with you, could he? Of course he thought you were attractive, your hair was magnificent, your eyes were sparkling and your smile was amazing. He also really liked your personality, your love for the crew and their tastes, your focus and determination, how you never give up on what you believed to be right. Of course, he also felt strange next to you, with his legs shaking, his stomach nervous, his hands sweating and the lack of words. But that was all just because you were a new person compared to the others, that would pass with time, wouldn't it?

Definitely not. But he only saw it in the first jealousy crisis he had, you should spend the day on the island together since you wanted to cook something and needed the help of someone experienced in that. But just in the nick of time Usopp needed your help with art supplies and you ended up leaving your object behind, prioritizing helping your friend before that. Of course Sanji didn't mind, it was just one day, you would have many more. So what was the problem?

He didn't know it, but as he walked around town looking for supplies he couldn't stop thinking about you, how much more fun it would be to run around the market stalls listening to your beautiful voice. How you could stop by some cafe and eat together while chatting, even how nice it would be to cook with you afterwards, teaching you what he loved so much. He muttered irritably, taking another cigarette, perhaps the fifth in an hour, as he stopped in a square to collect his thoughts.

That's when he saw you. You weren't together with Usopp, but in front of some stalls, buying jewelry and small weapons, he immediately smiled and thought about approaching. Perhaps now you were free and could spend the rest of the day together, but the events that followed had his stomach twisting as he bit down on the cigarette until he tasted it on his tongue. A man approached you with a huge bouquet of flowers, he appeared to be a civilian and by his clothes perhaps he worked as a florist or gardener. The man smiled and offered you a beautiful bouquet of roses, you smiled with slightly flushed cheeks and accepted, the man would not miss the chance to pass his hand to your shoulder as he approached.

Sanji expected to see discomfort on your face, maybe despair, anything he could use as an excuse to go over there and kick that man until his face was unrecognizable. But you didn't. Instead you looked like you were having fun, laughing and getting red in the cheeks at everything the other said, Sanji felt his stomach sinking and hurting, what was that? He grabbed his bags and walked back to the ship, not in the mood for shopping anymore that day.

Robin was in the kitchen as she had stayed to watch the ship, she greeted him quickly without taking her eyes off the book she was reading. He responded with as much cheer as he had, none, and then proceeded to unpack everything for storage, although he really hadn't bought much for being back early. He could feel Robin's gaze on her back, perhaps it was obvious how awkward he was, but the man didn't wish to trouble the beautiful lady with feelings he didn't even understand.

"How was your day on the island with (y/n)?" She asked quietly, but Sanji felt his entire body shiver and go rigid.

"Ahn… They couldn’t go, busy with Usopp I guess" he tried to dodge the subject and replied in the most ordinary tone, although there was a tremor in his voice.

"Oh, I see" he thanked her for the next few minutes of silence, maybe she would just forget about it and he could pretend that nothing happened "is that why you are so upset?" He nearly dropped the plate he was washing.

"I'm not upset" he said that to who? For Robin? For himself? Who was he trying to fool?

"Hm…" she hummed "Whatever you say" a good quality of the woman is that she wouldn't insist on these matters, she knew when to withdraw if necessary "But you can talk to me if you want" Sanji smiled appreciatively for having such a generous friend.

"I just…" he shouldn't have said it, he didn't even know what he was feeling! "I… I saw them with someone else besides Usopp… They looked happy" he mumbled not really knowing what the problem was, what exactly was he angry about?

"Oh… I see" he could hear the woman's smile.

"Understood what?" He asked, nervous and curious.

"Hm? Didn't you notice, cook-san?" She had a lively, light tone.

"No?" he asked, confused.

"You are jealous." She finished and it didn't take long to get up, ready to leave. Sanji is immobilized, completely paralyzed and not knowing what to say, let alone what to do. Robin must have noticed his face in shock and laughed at the door, then spoke calmly "Don't worry, it's normal to be jealous when we're in love…"

Then she left, leaving the man alone, and for the first time since you joined the crew, Sanji realized something: he was in love with you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Notes: Well that was it! It was the first thing I wrote after my short break so I don't know if it was really good, but I liked it even though it was short. The next stories will be the ask

Also I'm planning to start a series of imagines so that's why orders are closed, hope you understand!

[nevadas-night-time-novelist]

Hank with nine feet tall!reader but reader is actually the new sun, and they have a smiley face like: =) but reader just chills around and eats hotdogs

Plot twist: hank accidentally created them when they killed the actual sun

Energy simply is. It cannot be destroyed. It cannot be created. It always is, and always will be. With the death of the Sun, her energy shot out into the sky, seeking out the most viable host in the area. It found a strong grunt, one with grit and will, a power to persevere even in the hardest of times.

A body capable of withstanding power, one of kind and sound mind, reasonable and in need of light. Pain struck your spine between your shoulder blades, splitting down your back and rushing into your bones. Heat followed, sunspots burning into your skin from the inside.

Light filled your eyes, bright beams extending to the sky, a calling to return to where it belongs, up above in the heavens, silent observer of the peaceful world below. The pain faded slowly, your new shifted form complete.

A crown of light floated around your head, warm toned silks enrobed your body, and intricate little sun patterns covered parts of your skin. Your slender fingers touched the silk, much softer than the cotton smock you'd been wearing mere moments ago, an- when did the ground get so far away?!

You caught your reflection in a window, a gasp escaping your lips. "W-what is this?" Warmth filled your being, emanating from your sternum, the heat rolling off you and warming the air around you. Bright, warm, tall. A freaky change, a far cry from the normalcy you'd lived until now. And yet....

You couldn't help but smile. Joy flooded your system, energy and love flooding from your being, the urge to twirl in your new robes was irritable, and you did, feeling the fabric moving with you.

Yet with all this energy burning from you, it left a deep void in your guts, an insatiable hunger taking over, mouth salivating at the mere thought of something tasty on your tongue.

A grunt with a hotdog cart was walking past, and you waved to him in excitement. "Helloooo~" You skipped over and beamed down at him. "May I have... Hmmm... Many hotdogs?" You couldn't pick a number, just intent on eating until you could feel full and ready to burn brighter.

He craned his neck to look at you. "You're a tall one, aren't you? Now how many hotdogs do you actually want? I need a number buddy."

You picked your wallet from your pocket, and you placed it down on the side. "As many as the money in there can buy!" He shrugged, and opened your wallet, taking your cash before starting to prepare your feast of pulverised meat. An important question left his lips.

"Mustard, or ketchup?"

After an intense brawl and interrogation, Hank had made progress on his journey to hunting down and executing the Sheriff. It'd be a cold day in hell before he forgave that bastard for eating his pie.

They paused when they noticed a familiar giant in the street, one he was absolutely positive he'd killed not an hour ago. "What. The. Fuck." You turned to look at him, half a hotdog in hand.

"Hiiiii! You want a hotdog too?" You held out the untouched one in your other hand, and Hank looked beyond livid.

"How the hell are you alive? I just killed you!" They patted their body, realising they were out of weapons. Fists would have to do, he's done it before, he can again.

"Huuuh? I don't know what you mean. I've never seen you before in my life. I think I'd remember. I'd definitely remember dying." You took another big bite, waving the hotdog at him. "Offers still open!"

He gritted his teeth, stomping over. "What are you playing at? What kind of game is this?"

"I don't follow. One moment I was walking along, the next I was bursting with joy and feeling so light! It's like I'm a whole different person! Well, I mean I guess I am. I didn't look like this earlier." You gnawed on your hotdog in thought.

"You're... not the sun that crawled down from the sky?" They questioned, incredibly cautious.

You shook your head with a smile. "Don't be silly! The sun is right th-" Where the fuck was the sun? "Uh.." Realisation started to dawn on you, perhaps.. it could be true? It would explain your sudden attitude shift, and physical shift, and the urge to just float into the sky.

"... Maybe I am the sun?" Your smile vanished for a moment, before it came back. "But isn't that wonderful? I can brighten up the world now. I think that's something powerful."

You sat on the curb, and Hank eventually sat with you. "At least you're not trying to kill me." They grumbled, a sour look on their face. "Feels like everything is against me right now, just 'cause one guy screwed me over." Their stomach growled. "....Is the offer for that hotdog still open?"

A giggle left your lips, and you handed them the ketchup slathered dog. "Eat up, I'm sure bright things will be coming your way. After all, when you hit low, the only way you can go is up, right?"

He swallowed his mouthful and sighed. "I sure hope so."

[jo-harrington]

Peak Sales Hours (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his first Black Friday, Eddie is exhausted and takes comfort in his new relationship with you.

Previous Part: Promotion

Warnings/Themes: Established friendship/new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort(?), idk it's a lot of comfort, working in retail hell, Eddie works at Tape World and Reader is the Store Manager at Claire's in Starcourt Mall, angry customers, weariness

Note: So...hi guys. Welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. This little installment is sort of skipping a step. I had a whole thing planned and half-written of Eddie and our favorite SM actually confessing their feelings and being fluffy...and it's still gonna happen I'm just...on day whatever of work and have a big deadline and have had sleep for lunch the past I-don't-know how many days.

And it just took me back to the countless Black Friday and Peak Holiday shifts where all I wanted was to get back home. So here we are.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

Never, in his entire life, had Eddie Munson felt more akin to the heroes from his favorite fantasy stories.

Long journeys and harrowing battles.

Deep wounds and comrades lost to the beyond.

Hoards of villains and the promise of a better future if only there was hope.

Taran. Aragorn. Luke Skywalker. They had seen it all.

"What's taking so long? I just need a gift receipt!"

But none of them had ever worked Black Friday.

He had experienced Black Friday before, as a shopper.

Thanksgiving hadn't ever been anything magnificent in the Munson household, especially after his mom died. Wayne and Rick had always tried to make it still feel special for Eddie, with hearty midwest comfort foods.

There would always be a full belly and an even fuller heart with his uncle and his almost-step-dad around. Eddie could never complain.

Then after a late afternoon dinner, Wayne would pack up a plate of leftovers to make his shift at the plant that paid time-and-a-half, plus a little something extra from the plant manager, cash in hand. By the time Eddie woke up the next morning, Wayne would pull up with a box of fresh donuts, honk three times, and they would be on their way to the Kmart on Rt 9 and get some steeply discounted goods with Wayne's holiday pay.

It was always a madhouse, but Eddie could swiftly dodge screaming kids, empathize with over-caffeinated employees, and wait in long lines if he and Wayne didn't need to fret about things like work boots and gloves, t-shirts and underwear, and usually one nice little Christmas gift for each of them.

This year, of course, had been a little different. Wayne had been a little disappointed--he would never admit it, but Eddie could tell--that their tradition would be forsaken for Eddie's shift at the mall. But your addition into the Thanksgiving festivities had been a welcome one.

Eddie had extended the invitation weeks ago, when you mentioned you wouldn't be able to make it home to spend the holiday with your family thanks to work.

You, of course, promised to pull your weight--

"It's always really casual," he tried to ease your worries as you began to fret over what kind of dessert Wayne and Rick might like. "You don't even need to dress up. Come in your pajamas. Rick makes a really good pumpkin pie, and I have my mom's old scalloped potato recipe that will literally put you in a food coma."

"What about turkey?" you asked.

"We don't really do turkey." He shrugged. "There's only three of us. So we do different things every year. Rick usually catches some kind of fish if it's warm enough. Wayne has a good recipe for fried chicken. We were thinking of doing meatloaf..."

"I can do the meatloaf!" You perked up immediately.

--only to show up laden with a roasting pan for the meatloaf, a plastic-wrapped gravy boat full of some kind of mushroom gravy, a salad, and a casserole dish overflowing with green beans, cream-of-something soup, and heaps of french fried onions.

Eddie, of course, scolded you as you shuffled through to the kitchen, much like he had the first time you showed up for dinner at his place. But he also placed a soft peck on your lips, which earned him a bashful smile as you shoo'd him away.

That was a new development to your...friendship, if you could even call it that anymore. There really hadn't been time to discuss the logistics between the frenzied makeout session in his van outside of the Hideout this past Tuesday night and Thanksgiving dinner.

Now that he had been trapped at the cash wrap, ringing out ungrateful customers for the past 8 hours, he was almost loathing his past self for wanting to be a little discreet in front of Wayne and Rick. For not...making himself have the "what are we" conversation with you, because your lips had soothed every frazzled nerve he had the other night.

Knowing that at the end of the day that he wasn't going through it alone, that his girlfriend was also in the mall suffering through the mass chaos and that he could go upstairs and steal a kiss whenever he wanted...well it certainly would have done him a world of good to mentally prepare him for this.

For the entirety of his time working at Tape World, he thought he had been doing a pretty good job. Sure there were some hard days, some rude customers. But at the end of the day, an 8-hour shift was an 8-hour shift, and he was only selling tapes. Not...ending world hunger.

"Ah you say that now," Kyle told him on Wednesday as they were putting together cardboard "dump bins" for the discount tapes that would be placed every 10 feet in the store. "But Black Friday is a beast, and Christmas Eve is worse. You're honestly lucky you only work here and not at, like, Radio Shack or something. My buddy Todd has seen some shit.

"Actually, I'm almost regretting scheduling you as a mid but I needed a second key." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. "Peak Hours. Mid's a rough shift for Black Friday weekend."

"I'll be fine," Eddie scoffed. "I've done mid shifts before. I'm almost excited. How bad could it get?"

Famous. Last. Words.

He had barely been able to squeeze into the store when it was time for his shift, the line for the cash wrap blocked the way to the stockroom door. As soon as people saw his name tag, they started shouting at him to open the other register, how they needed help; he could barely get a word out to explain that he wasn't clocked in yet. They didn't care.

He was no longer Eddie Munson, Tape World Keyholder and your boyfriend, probably, maybe...

He was a body who could unlock the electronics case and ring them out.

He was a husk who said "welcome in" and "thanks have a great day" and smiled until his face started hurting.

And for the first time since he had gotten this job back at the beginning of summer...it really fucked with him.

His legs were cramped from standing at the Cash Wrap for so long, he wasn't sure which of the associates had his keys, his hair was damp with sweat even if he threw it into a some haphazard bun hours ago.

He'd been yelled at by more people than he could count, counted so much change the edges of his fingers were pretty much stained from all the muck and grime on everyone's money, and had made so many returns from people with buyer's remorse that he was sure they had given more money back than they had made in sales today.

Eddie hadn't even gotten a chance to take his lunch out in the mall and pay you a visit like he typically would. He had just collapsed in the little metal folding chair in the break area of the tiny stock room. Kyle had clapped him on the shoulder with a quick "good job kid" as he left for the day and Eddie hadn't even moved.

"Alright Ed," Paulie shuffled over as Eddie wrapped up the last in a long line of transactions and was about to wave the next customer over. "Quitting time."

Eddie sighed and backed against the counter as Paulie counted him down. The adrenaline of the day finally started to wear off as he came to realize that it was all over, and a weariness unlike the one he had been feeling his entire shift settled deep into his bones.

He went through the motions as he went back to the stockroom to grab his jacket and punch out. He wove his way through the still-crowded store and out into the mall, sighing in relief as the cooler mall air hit him.

It was gonna be a mercy once he got out to his van. He'd drive home with the windows down.

His ears rang as he headed towards the employee entrance and he wondered if it would be worth waiting in line at the Orange Julius before he left or if he should just stop through the McDonald's drive thru or something on his way home.

"Eddie."

But then, he didn't really need to stop for anything. There were leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner at home. He could smoke a little bit, make some kind of meatloaf sandwich, and then sink into his bed.

"Eddie."

And sleep until...

Fuck.

He was gonna have to do it all again tomorrow. And the day after that.

He thought back to his favorite fantasy heroes and wondered how they did it. How they put themselves through endless journeys, practically sacrificed themselves time and again.

And he could barely make it through a shift at the Starcourt Mall of all places.

"Eddie!"

He crashed right into your hands as you planted them on his shoulders and prevented him from absolutely barreling into you.

"Jesus are you ok?" you exclaimed and pulled him off to the side of the walkway to get out of the way of foot traffic.

Was he? Probably not.

"Yeah," he shook his head and answered. He finally looked at you, finally actually saw you. Dressed in your Teen Vogue best, as you called it, although a little worse for wear, if the eyeshadow smeared where it definitely shouldn't be and your jewelry all askew was any indicator. "Yeah I'm fine.

"You sure? You looked like you were in a trance," you explained. "I've been calling your name for a little while."

"Oh shit," he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, no...it's...It was just a long day."

You didn't hesitate. Your arms immediately wrapped around him and you pulled him in. Pulled him back from whatever precipice he was about to launch himself off of, and straight into the comfort of you.

---

Before long, Eddie found himself in your apartment, fully upside down with his legs propped against the wall as he enjoyed the Blizzard he'd picked up on the way.

"You know just cuz you can hold it upside down, doesn't mean you're supposed to eat it upside down," you laughed as you filled a pot with water and put it on the stove.

"And what are you, the Blizzard expert," Eddie scoffed. "If you'll recall I was the one who took you to Dairy Queen for the first time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes and turned to grab some cans from the cupboard.

You had offered to make dinner--again--while he vented about his shift. Nothing as spectacular as what you made for Thanksgiving dinner, but it left the leftover meatloaf for Wayne to take for his lunches.

"You're lucky I like your spaghetti sauce," Eddie grumbled, a little sad that he couldn't have his meatloaf sandwich.

So he talked as you ran to your bedroom to rid yourself of the remnants of who you became when you were at Starcourt, and as you emerged the person that, he liked to believe, was reserved especially for him.

He told you about the back to back returns he had dealt with when he came back from lunch as you dropped dried pasta into the boiling water and grated garlic into sizzling oil.

He complained about the man who demanded help from a manager only even though all he wanted was a special edition cassette deck that had all the bells and whistles and anyone with keys could help him. His voice got louder and meaner as he quoted the jackass verbatim, but the sharp strike of your wooden spoon against the side of the pot brought him back down to earth.

And as he finished up his story about having to count Sam's register three times because he forgot that there were large bills under the cash tray, you joined him on the couch with a bowl of steaming hot pasta for each of you.

He righted himself and discarded the empty blizzard cup on your coffee table.

"First Black Friday in the books," you announced and you passed the bowl to him. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Eddie groaned. "Seriously? It was a disaster."

"They always are," you explained sagely.

"You survived," he pointed out.

"So did you."

"Barely."

"So?" you asked and twirled noodles on your fork expertly. "Doesn't that count? This is, like...my 5th Black Friday? My 6th? I count each one as a victory. And so should you."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, then clinked plates with his in a salute, and then the two of you fell into contented silence as you ate.

As Eddie worked ravenously through the layers of starchy, cheesy, garlicky goodness, he realized that the weariness that had settled within him after his shift had started to alleviate. How he felt more like himself now that he was sitting next to you, basking in the warm glow of your company.

He briefly considered this ritual the two of you had been engaging in for months. The way you shared stories and foods and got closer to one another. He had always been a little worried that things would change if he ever got his wish, if this friendship with you ever became more.

But it was like nothing had changed at all.

He wanted to ask, was tempted to ask, what this was? If this was a date, like all the dates that weren't dates hadn't been before? If you were his girlfriend now?

But then...he recalled the time that you had a bad day and you immediately found relief in him, how he thought that he didn't need to be your knight as long as he could be your home.

And Eddie realized that whatever the two of you decided it would be, whether you were still just his friend, or if you were his girlfriend, or maybe...maybe something else...

You, too, would always be his home at the end of a long battle.

---

Next Part: Disaster Preparedness

Tag List for Store Manager Verse is still temporarily suspended. Thank you for understanding.

[thatfrailsoul]

_

Slow down for a moment. Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you and behind which image it hides... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that whenever you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

_

Your message is right after this little question from me. You don't need to stop here and let me know your opinion - but it would be really helpful and important for me if you decide to do so!♡

_

Hi!♡ This blog grows day by day, and I really want to make it as comfortable and interesting as possible for every beautiful soul that finds and joins us!♡ For this reason I would like to know your opinion regarding something... To connect to this World, to our Guardians that are always by our side and ready to help us, I use my trusted tarot cards. And I always mentioned the cards that come out for every message and pile... But thinking about it, I realized that perhaps there might be many people that enjoy the guidance and messages on this platform regardless of where or from whom they are coming from. So I wanted to ask you...

Thank you for helping me out!♡

_

It's so painful, so tiring... To look at your life right now with all its challenges, constant ups and downs that never give you the time to enjoy a little moment of peace... Never allow you to breath remaining in the now that so rarely feels safe... The same things again and again, repeating themselves through different people or situations... But still and always coming back, as if you never did all that hard work, never tried and gave your best, never deserved some reassurance and serenity for all the lessons that you've endured...

It makes your heart ache, your mind feels heavy and so confused... Creating a natural need to escape. To hope that somewhere or through someone you can find the keys to a different reality, get to know about the mysterious destiny of your soul. Something deeply different from what you are forced to live right now, but more familiar and needed to make you feel your truest self, to make you feel at the right for you place and time.

But... No matter how many challenges, how many obstacles and battles that this life puts on your shoulders, making you face them no matter if you are ready or not... It's still your life. It's still a journey, an adventure, a story that is unique to you. That you once imagined and created in your mind the same way you are doing now, trying to hide from the present moment and this life.

You see in you memories a deeper meaning, more fulfilling adventures, romantic and poetic lives. You find yourself feeling that sour and subtle mourning of the lives that seemed so much more, so much better, so more right for your soul then the one of the now. And without realising it, or perhaps contrary knowing it, you try to shut this life down, to skip it by hiding in those memories, visions and dreams... Forgetting a tiny but important detail: that those are past lives for a reason. The same one for which your heart, your own soul, decided to live once more, to experience more, to feel something more and different. Something that you never experienced and lived before.

It might be frustrating now, perhaps it is your whole life that you can remember... But it's still your life, the one that you are meant to live now, grow into, and shift adapting it to your dreams. And those are still memories, still past lives, still things that were not enough for your soul back then, not enough to make you stop from experiencing this Universe through many more lives. Exactly like this life seems not enough for you now.

You will always keep them in your heart, those experiences, those adventures and moments that you got through in all those centuries, making you be who you are now. They will always talk to you, sometimes even guide you. Those past versions of you will always speak to you and remind you of something that you now are not really able to understand... The fact that it is not this life that is too difficult, not right, somehow wrong and torturing for you, too hard to deal with and overcome, and simply not how you want or need it to be, never enough... But it's just the desire in you that you were never able to satisfy, traveling through literal lives to find that something more... It's just the excitement and wander for what else there might be out there, how else you can experience a human life. That feeling that now... Is being slightly misunderstood, confused and influenced by the hardships and obstacles in your life. The one that your own self, through space and time, is trying to explain to you, by gently reminding you that those stories, those things.... You already did them, you already lived them. And that much more that you are seeking is ahead of you and not behind.

_

You feel so stuck, so overwhelmed, so lost between all these options and possible mistakes in front of you that seem all the same. Making it impossible for you to choose the right thing... And overwhelming you with the paralysing fear of choosing the worst.

It is tiring, not being able to choose or find a solution no matter how much you look around, no matter how much these situations surround and pressure you, demanding your attention right here and now...

And seeing all these dreams, remembering those moments... Seems just a mean joke of your subconscious mind that reminds you of others, perhaps better situations, so different from what you are forced to deal with now.

But is it really? Is your own subconscious mind so mean and determined to confuse you only more? Or is it perhaps your own self that tries to remind you something... That tries to show you how many moments, situations, literal lives you were already able to live through and overcome?

Is it adding more salt to your fresh wounds, or is it trying to show you how much strength, courage and inventiveness you have hidden in your heart? Is it mocking you with the lives that you can't have, or is it trying to help you shift your perspective, making you realise how much potential has the life that you live now?

It might not feel like it at all now - but you have an incredible power, such a strong spirit within you. The ones that can transform every obstacle, every fearful moment in a mere chapter, followed by another one. It is not the end, what you are going through will not be able to destroy you. You are not consumed completely, you are not hopeless without any possibility to get out...

You are only tired. You just need a moment to stay still and recharge your energy again, thanks to the powerful and almost magical work of your mind and heart. And this... Doesn't mean that you are weak, or falling behind everyone else in your life. It is only a moment of rest that even the strongest heroes need, before overcoming amazingly every obstacle that they come across in the adventure of their life.

You got this. The same way you did in the past, in this or other lives. There is nothing that you can't overcome, resolve, manifest or experience. And those mistakes that seem so scary and dangerous now... are just ways to spice this story up. Adding more character and worth to you, the one who will one day be looked at with admiration for your strength and courage to, sometimes, mess up. Learning even more about yourself, your abilities, and the different aspects of this world and this life.

_

[aquamarineglow]

Things I'd love to see in the Future of the Layton Series:

Some of these are unlikely, borderline impossible. But here's hoping Apollo may grant me the gift of prophesy on just one thing:

1. The rest of the Layton Games get a HD release on mobile.

This just makes sense! The original trilogy got a HD release, time for the prequels! And what if we get new cutscenes and content like Curious Village did? That would be amazing!

2. The entire series gets released on Switch.

This also makes sense. Since NWOS is releasing on the Switch, it makes sense to add the original games so new fans can play all of them! Especially since the Nintendo DS is dead. Rest in Peace. 💕

3. London Life gets a sequel/reboot and is available for all regions.

I've been playing London Life on an Emulator and it is so fun! It's a shame my region never got it!

My hope for the future is that if Spectre's Call gets a HD release, it will include London Life for everyone! But this version will include characters from Miracle Mask and Azran Legacy!

And here's a fun idea: what if befriending Dimitri Allen unlocks the ability to use his time machine! Unfortunately, it doesn't work perfectly; it can only take you twenty years into the future. So you can meet and befriend characters from Mystery Journey and Mystery Room!

4. Layton Brothers Mystery Room Sequel

It's been ten years since the mobile game was released and it's been largely ignored by Level 5. Until recently, with Alfendi's cameo in the anime, and then the manga series. It's clear that there's still love for this game. I think it's perfect time for Alfendi and Lucy to get the sequel they deserve! I'd love to see how they are doing!

5. Layton's Mystery Room Sequel/ Layton Mystery Detective Agency Season 2

I know Katrielle's game and anime wasn't the best received, but I think the series has a lot to offer! With the return of Layton and possibly an appearance from Alfendi, I believe the best is yet to come! Also, we still don't know the backstory of Sherl.

6. Lost Media gets found:

What is Professor Layton and the Phantom Thieves? What is Professor Layton Battle Royale? What is Professor Layton and the Deathly Mirror? I have no idea. But I'd like to know.

7. Roid Artwork

I don't know much about it, but I believe Level 5 had some kind of mobile app where, amongst other things, you received really cute artwork of various characters. Most of if the ones I've seen are poor quality, so I think it would be great if the Level 5 Twitter said, "check these out" and released HD images, including ones we've never seen before.

8. More Games

So, the original series was a trilogy. And the prequels were a trilogy. So what if NWOS is the first entry in a new trilogy, starring Luke in America! The Detective Triton Trilogy!

Also, it's been a while since Professor Layton's first and only crossover game. What about another? I don't know much about the Phoenix Wright series, but a crossover between Apollo Justice and Alfendi/Katrielle could be fun?

9. Rook and Bishop

This message is for Akihiro Hino's eyes only. If you are not Akihiro Hino, please skip.

Hey, Akihiro Hino. I know you read my blog. I will give you £29 and my ham sandwich if you put Rook and Bishop in the new game. They don't even have to do anything, just stand awkwardly in the background. It would be hilarious because nobody would care. Everyone wants to see characters like Flora, Emmy and Descole. You put Benny in LMJ and nobody cared about him. Do this for me.🥺

10. Flora

Just.... Acknowledge her existence in some way. Let her appear in NWOS. Give her something to do.

11. Mangas Series

I was so happy when it was revealed that Level 5 was making a manga series about Mystery Room. I can't read Japanese, but I just love the artwork. So expressive and fun! Completely different from the original 2d sprites.

So I was thinking, what if they made a manga about each of the original games? I don't mean like the Cheerful Mystery Manga, but with beautiful artwork that followed the original stories, maybe with new scenes? I'd like that.

Feel free to add what you'd love to see for the Layton Series! No matter how impossible it sounds! If the list is long enough, at least one thing has to come true, right?

[uhdrienne]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

07. producer park

🌼 warnings: alcohol, a secret chat group

🌼 word count: ~2.3k

"Ah, I don't like staying in hospitals," You mumble as you get out of the car that Seungkwan drove over in. You reach in again and pull out the overnight bag that Delia brought after she came back.

"Nicer to be home, huh," Delia smirks as she gets out after you, before skipping on ahead, where Seungkwan's already stopped the engine and is waiting with Wonwoo, who's been unusually quiet on the journey back.

She's far gone before you process that she said 'home'. She already regarded this village as home. Huh. Perhaps it was time you asked yourself the same question.

As you walk on, you see a large group of people huddled near a stall at the edge of the town market. They're unfamiliar, and some of them are carrying large black tripods and rectangular bags on them.

As the four of you walk closer, Seungkwan and Wonwoo's eyebrows slightly furrowing in confusion at the large crowd, a head of dark brown hair, and long, lanky limbs catch your attention. He's bent over a rack of traditional dried squid snacks, animatedly chattering and gesturing about it to the rest of the group surrounding him.

"Chanyeol?" You say out loud as you get within hearing range of the man. Wonwoo, Delia and Seungkwan's heads whip over to you.

Alerted at the call of his name, the man raises his head, and his eyes finally land on you after looking around. "Oh my god, Y/N?!"

"It really is you!"

He excuses himself from his group and hurries over to you. Delia mouths an incredulous "That Chanyeol?!" to you, but quickly plasters a smile onto her face as he comes over to greet you.

"Long time no see, Y/N!" he says, loud and boisterous as he always is, and you can't help but break out in a smile as you respond. "It's so crazy meeting you here. How've you been?"

"I'm doing good! And you?" Chanyeol grins, his handsome features lighting up.

"I'm great! Here on a filming session?" You smile.

"What do you mean great, you just got out of a car accident--" Wonwoo mutters under his breath and Seungkwan elbows him in the ribs. "Ow!" He protests.

Delia grabs Seungkwans's arm, Seungkwan grabs Wonwoo's, and the three of them hightail it out of the way, Wonwoo protesting slightly before you can say anything.

"Funny story how I got here, actually," Chanyeol enthuses, as he waves his film crew on to explore the market on their own. "I was supposed to go to the neighbouring town -- amazing farm plots, I heard! But I took a wrong turn, and--"

"Typical," You groan. "You never did go the right directions back in school."

He bursts out laughing, throwing his head back in his joy. "Gosh, you still remember that?"

Of course you do.

"But yeah, we ended up here! But it's a gorgeous town. Freshly-caught seafood, community spirit, the old traditions all present -- I was thinking this might be a blessing in disguise, it would be a great location for our next show. So we took the wrong turn as a chance for a site recce."

"Wow," You smile. "But this place really is pretty. You should check out the harbour, the lighthouse, and the dock--" You stop yourself.

What are you doing?

Chanyeol doesn't seem to notice your sudden halt, instead opting to smile big and assure you that he'll check the whole town out.

"Right," He suddenly says. "I'm actually glad that you'll be hanging around here, 'cause I'd really like to stick with someone more familiar."

You laugh. "I'm hardly the best person for a guide. I just came a few weeks ago. Not that long ago, to be honest."

He brushes aside your concern. "At least I have a friend here. By the way, do you happen to know a town chief, or a council? We were thinking of discussing with them about filming here. We can get the permits and stuff, but we do need his permission..."

You perk up slightly. "Yeah, I know him. His name is Chief Jeon Wonwoo. I can let him know that you want to see him?"

Chanyeol brightens. "Oh, the guy that was with you earlier? Great! I'll go find him myself, he's right over there." He points, and to your surprise and slight mortification, Wonwoo, Delia, and Seungkwan really are still in the market, far enough to not raise suspicion, but still near enough to see roughly what's going on. The three of them immediately avert eye contact once they spot you both looking in their direction.

You sigh in fond exasperation as Seungkwan starts blabbering excitedly about the dried goods you know for sure he's seen his whole life.

"Yep, that's him, the taller one," You say. "Come on, let's get you introduced."

They hit it off.

Chanyeol's infectious enthusiasm seems to rub off on Wonwoo, and he begins brainstorming with the producer on the materials they'd need for the show. Seungkwan, Delia and you hang behind, making conversation on your own.

"Who's he?" Seungkwan asks curiously, after Chanyeol peels away from the group to get back to his film crew, promising to discuss further with Wonwoo once he'd settled everyone into accommodations for the next few days, and it's just you four again.

"A friend from university," You begin, but Delia snorts with laughter. "You had the biggest crush on him."

You smack her on the arm. "I did not!"

Wonwoo looks down at you, smirking. "Really? Miss Doctor has a crush?"

You flush. "...Used to."

"Oh my god, it was a whole melodrama!" Delia squeals. "Can I tell them? Can I?"

You sigh dramatically at her excitement, but smile and wave at her to go on. "Go ahead. It's all water under the bridge."

And so Delia regales her tale (largely exaggerated, mind you) about your first-ever boyfriend in university, who had later revealed himself to be a Class-A jerk, busying himself with different girls at parties while you studied away for your degree.

Chanyeol, despite being in the same group of friends, had never attended the parties, instead opting to spend his time assisting on film sets and production companies for experience. When he found out about his friend's tendencies, and that you broke up with him, he took it upon himself to become your friend, to make you a little happier.

And soon, that companionship throughout university had developed into a teeny-tiny crush. A really small one. Delia made you sound like some lovesick teenager.

Life had other plans, moving you to Seoul to your very first clinic. You both rarely kept in touch, but you saw him on variety shows, on the credit rolls of reality programmes, and in online articles. He'd grown to become a charismatic and popular TV producer.

You roll your eyes when Delia does a highly inaccurate imitation of your expression while talking with the producer. ("I didn't look like that!" "Did too!")

Seungkwan and Wonwoo seem highly invested, which was fair, you supposed, given that they knew close to nothing about you. Seungkwan gasped like he was watching the climax of a drama.

"And your unrequited love is back in town," He teases, and you barely launch a poorly aimed punch at his arm before he's ducking away, screeching with laughter.

Wonwoo, however, doesn't seem as amused. His face twists at some point in your story, whether out of confusion or irritation... you can't tell.

Wonwoo decides to discuss the possibility of the filming project with the villagers, citing that it would be good for business, and to make the place livelier. It comes as no surprise that it's a unanimous yes, given his position as an unofficial chief and all-around genius.

Giving Chanyeol the good news was worth it to see his reaction -- his huge smile, his excited demeanour as he tells his crew. They're all equally excited, huddling to plan out every detail of the show.

As thanks, Chanyeol decides to treat the crew to drinks and urges you and Wonwoo to come. "You guys made it happen, anyway," He reasons, and Wonwoo seems happy to go. It also happens that you can't resist the pull of alcohol.

Except you get drunk. Really, really, shitfaced, to the point that you know you'll black out once you try to stand.

"Easy there, tiger," Wonwoo groans as he pulls you out of your seat.

"Should I bring her home...?" You hear Chanyeol offer, but Wonwoo's already declining as he adjusts you.

"You literally told us just now that you're bad with directions," He huffs in exertion, as you try and fail to make your spaghetti limbs work. "If I let you bring her alone, she won't get home until tomorrow morning."

"Oh, I'm not that bad..." Chanyeol begins to protest, then sighs. "Yeah, I am that bad. Just let me know when she gets home. You have my number, right?"

And all you remember after that is a blur of him carrying you home, the sensation of a blanket being thrown over you, the dampness of a wet towel on your face, and then the world goes dark.

The next morning is so damn painful.

Your head is spinning and throbbing, and you just feel like jelly. When you stumble into the kitchen for water and painkillers, there's a note on the dining table.

Mrs Woo sells really good hangover soup. When you wake up, let me know so we can go eat.

-J.WW

And call him you do, because hot broth sounds really good right about now.

Twenty minutes later, you see him tapping his foot impatiently outside the restaurant.

"Oh, you take forever to get ready," He leans in and sniffs delicately, before nodding. "At least you don't stink."

"Stink?"

"Do you know how much you drank last night?" He asks incredulously. "You downed so much of the makgeolli, over two bottles of soju mixed with beer, and--"

"Okay, I get it. You're making my head hurt." You mutter, embarrassment creeping up your face. "Can we go eat now?"

He chuckles, and swings the door open. "After you, Miss Doctor."

The steam kisses your face. It's better than anything else in the world right now.

Wonwoo looks on in amusement as you scoop rice and broth and tuck in, sighing in enjoyment. "Good?"

"Yeah." You mumble, your mouth full. "People should come here every day."

"Mhm," He hums in agreement as he picks his spoon up. "Don't talk with your mouth full. Are you heading to the clinic after this?"

"Yeah," You reply after swallowing. "Grandma has her appointment, and I have a few new people coming in."

"You sure you don't wanna take the day off?" He questions. "No offense, but you look awful right now."

"Thanks," You roll your eyes. "Can't. Grandma has an appointment today for her brace, and I've got a few new patients."

"Right. Take it easy, then. Delia can help out, right?"

"Delia took the day off. Said Seungkwan was bringing her out or something."

Wonwoo chokes on his soup.

"Seungkwan found the guts to bring a woman out?" Wonwoo is still in disbelief.

You sigh. "Delia might have nagged him a little. She's firm with what she sets her eyes on."

"No wonder. Seungkwan would never have asked her out otherwise."

As you near the clinic, you see a crowd of villagers gathering near your entrance.

"Did someone make a mess or something?" You wonder as you speed up, Wonwoo matching your pace. Once one villager spots you, the rest start chattering at breakneck speed.

"Y/N! How are you doing?"

"Oh, we heard about the accident--"

"Horrible, the weather must have been--"

"You must've felt so terrible at the hospital, dear," Grandma Lee walks towards you and grips your hands. "Here, this is a traditional root herb supplement. It's bitter, but you must eat it all. Helps with energy and recovery."

You smile a little and accept the small paper bag. "Thanks, Grandma."

She turns to Wonwoo and proceeds to slap his arm. "Ow! Grandma, why--"

"I heard you brought her to the hospital. Why didn't you make her stay home and rest?"

You break out into embarrassed laughter. "I insisted, Grandma. Life has to go on. And... he caught a cold because of me, so..."

"Yeah, where's my supplement, Grandma?" Wonwoo asks with a pout, not unlike a child.

"I only have one, you brat," Grandma Lee hisses, swatting his hand. "You're a big boy. Don't tell me you can't handle a cold." You try and fail to hide your laugh and Wonwoo mock-scowls at you.

One by one, the villagers offer you what they can, from fruits to freshly-made green onion kimchi, telling you to take care and call upon them if anything happens. The grandmas thank you for getting Grandma Lee's brace, and you don't even have the chance to ask how they knew.

But for once, amongst the endless chatter and speculating about the weather during the accident, you finally understand the appeal of staying in a village, surrounded by people you know care for you.

"You didn't tell me Wonwoo brought you home after you got drunk!" Delia screeches once she comes into the house.

You look up from your rice. "What?"

"It's literally all over the-- oh, right."

"All over the what?" You get to your feet. Delia, who's in the middle of pulling something up on her phone, flushes and hides it, but you've already seen part of the screen.

"A chat group-- what is that?"

"I don't know! Swear, I just got added in this morning and Miss Hwang said Wonwoo carried you home and that it looked really cute-"

"What? Hey! Give me that!"

"No!"

Delia breaks into a rendition of the "Wonwoo and Y/N sitting in a tree" joke, and you're about to keel over in embarrassment.

And just then, your phone pings with a text from Wonwoo.

"Did you see the secret chat group?"

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

🌼 summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼 pairing: wonwoo x reader fic (fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired)

🌼 genre(s): fluff, mild angst, yn can be mean sometimes at the start (this is inspired by the kdrama hometown cha-cha-cha, so some parts of the plot and characters are similar), wonwoo is an overall sweetheart

ch.07: producer park

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🌼taglist: @gaslysainz @lev1hei1chou @mingycr

writer's note: a short update for noww~~