#i counted i had 42 asks yesterday

[motherlvr]

can you write something grumpy!42miles x sunshine!reader? where he’s always kinda mean but cares about her but they end up together

this prompt is so cute tysm for the req!!

Word count: About 1,600

Pairing: Grumpy Earth-42! Miles Morales x Sunshine! f! reader

Summary: The line between just classmates and something more is thin. Miles and You seemed to be walking that line.

Warnings: (begrudgingly) friends to lovers, he's a bit mean, fluff, minimal cursing, classmates to lovers, pure fluff, cannot contain the fluff, reader is a little slow, this is short and cute, spanish grammar is not my strong suit

A/N: if i haven't gotten to your request yet, its still a wip but will be posted soon!

_________

You were boisterously laughing. Obnoxiously, even. The guy’s joke wasn’t even that funny.

Miles called your name out with an aggravated tone,

"Would it kill you to shut up for a second?"

You promptly responded, "Would it kill you to lighten up for once?"

He regrets not skipping this class.

That was partially a lie. In reality, he didn’t care for this class at all. He only came to see you. You were one of the few people who put up with him.

Miles and you always sat together during class. "Unassigned assigned seats", you'd call it. But that’s all you were. Seat partners. That was the way it was, and the way it would stay. And he was fine with that, at least he tried to convince himself.

The next day, the seat next to Miles was empty. It hasn’t been empty since the first day you met.

If you asked Miles how you both met, he’d say you forced your way into his life. However, you’d say that you saw through his “cold guy” facade and he opened up his heart to you. He was a good guy if you had the patience. That was only one of the many things he admired about you. Your optimism.

He saw you across the room. You were sitting with someone else. A guy. What was his name again? Miles couldn't recall. That was how irrelevant he was to Miles.

"Is this seat taken?" Miles looked up to the voice that had spoken, hoping it was somehow you. However, as he glanced up, an unfamiliar face was staring at him.

"Nah." He muttered, not sparing her another look.

She introduced herself and told Miles her name, but he wasn't listening. He was listening to your laugh. How could he not? Your laugh was practically drowning out every other voice in the room. At least, that’s how he perceived it.

You were giggling at whatever the guy next to you said. But this time, he wished it was him making you laugh. That guy didn't deserve to hear you laugh, or see you smile.

He couldn't stand your laugh unless he was the cause of it. Miles didn’t pay attention to the lesson that day. He was occupied staring daggers into your back. Yet you never noticed.

You sat next to Miles the day after, as usual. It was an unspoken agreement, and you had broken it the day prior.

Immediately as you sat down, Miles started interrogating you.

"You left me with some random girl to go flirt with that moron? He's a dick." He scoffed at you, nodding his head towards the guy that you left him for yesterday.

Right, like you're not. You thought. "He's really not, he's a good guy!" You defended him and continued, "Plus, your partner was super smart. She was probably more help than I could’ve been.”

"Ella no es tú. What else can I say, ma?" Miles casually said.

You tried to hide your grin but failed as a smile spread across your face. The corner of his lip curled in a small smirk. If you blinked, you would have missed it.

"I’m sorry for 'leaving you', Miles. But don’t worry, I prefer you over him anyway." You smiled brightly at him. And for a second, his stoic heart gleamed.

"I wasn't worried." He grumbled.

"You sure? I mean, whatever you say.” You grinned amusedly at him.

The rest of the class period followed as usual. But this time, before the bell rang, Miles bottled up his dignity to ask you, "Ay ma, wanna hang out after school?"

You raised a skeptical brow at his unusual behavior, "What, you starting to like me now? I thought you couldn't tolerate me." You probed.

Oblivious to you, he does more than just tolerate you. He was growing fond of your presence. He was starting to miss the sound of your giggle echoing within the room when he wasn’t around you.

But he couldn't find the courage to tell you just yet. Instead, he murmured, "I can tolerate you. Out of most of these people in here, anyway."

"I'm kidding. Yeah, I'm down, Miles." You teased him and agreed.

What you didn't know is that your initial question wasn't very far from the truth.

The school day couldn’t have passed any slower. If you were being honest, you were eagerly anticipating spending more time with Miles out of school.

The final bell of the day rang, and Miles held up to his side of the agreement. He met up with you after school.

Walking side-by-side, you asked, "What've you got planned for us today, Miles? You gonna wine and dine me?" you winked at him.

"Maybe another day, mami." He cracked a slight grin as he responded, fond of your antics.

"I'll hold you to that. I've got a better idea, anyway." You said as you heard a familiar song ringing through the atmosphere.

You yanked Miles by his arm and pulled him, "Look, an ice cream truck! I haven't seen one of those in forever. Let's go!"

A rare smile adorned Miles' face. Not that you saw it. You were too busy chasing after the ice cream truck and dragging him along.

You approached the ice cream truck. The ice cream man greeted you, "Hey guys! What can I get for you today?"

Without missing a beat, you said "Hello! Can I get the Spongebob popsicle please?" with a bright smile.

Miles ordered his right after you. "Coming right up!" The ice cream man said. He shortly returned with both your orders in hand.

As you tried to give the owner cash, Miles lowered your hand gently and said, "Let me pay for you." It was more of a demand as he handed cash to the man.

You couldn't contain the surprise that formed on your face. "Really? Thank you, Miles! You didn't have to do that, y’know." You reached up to him and peppered a kiss on his cheek as a token of gratitude. "Nah, I wanted to." He dismisses it with a shrug.

The man gave you both your ice creams and said, "Have a good day!"

"Young love. A beautiful thing to see." The owner of the truck said as you both walked away.

You both sat on a bench surrounded by a garden of blooming flowers. It was quite scenic for Brooklyn. "Miles, look. He only has one eye!" You chuckled as you showed him your popsicle.

Unbeknownst to you, you had ice cream smeared on your face. He leaned in to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb, his gaze lingering on your lips. An almost too-intimate action for people who were just "classmates." But you brushed it off as him being friendly for a change.

"You're a mess, mami." He chuckled, shaking his head at you. You ignored how he made your stomach do flips.

Miles had led you to a rooftop that he frequents. It had an incredible view of the sun, despite all the tall buildings encased around you two.

Miles and you spent the rest of the evening together, basking in the presence of one another. You conversed for hours, only realizing the time when the sun started to set. Comfortable moments of silence were exchanged as you watched the sun disappear from the sky, the moon soon replacing it.

“It’s a full moon, isn’t it just beautiful?” You admired the moon as it shone down on the sullen streets of Brooklyn.

"Yeah, It is." He replied, but he wasn't looking at the moon. If you had just turned your head, you'd realize the true meaning of his words. He hadn't even noticed the moon. His eyes were fixated on you instead. He believed that the moon couldn't even hold a candle to you.

"Why haven't we done this before, Miles? I enjoyed hanging out with you today." You felt harmonious with him for once, laying your head against his shoulder as you studied his face.

"I did too, princesa. Maybe I will just wine and dine you someday." Miles said with a smirk, gazing down into your eyes with a borderline smitten expression.

A lightbulb suddenly enlightened your brain. You mentally banged your head against a wall. How could you be so naive to not realize it sooner?

You broke the tension in the air and raised your head to look into his eyes. "Is this a date? You know, people that are 'just' classmates don't go on dates." You told him cheekily.

Could he not have made it more obvious? He paused for a moment and said, “I don’t want to be just classmates.”

“So you want to be best friends? Great! Me too." You grinned, feigning naivety.

His face immediately dropped as he facepalmed himself. "Dios mío, no. That's not what I meant. Never mind, olvídalo." He said, shaking his head.

You beamed at him and laced your fingers with his. “I’m just messing with you, Miles. I like you too. In case you haven't noticed."

He sighed of relief as he lifted your entwined hands to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You stayed in each other's embrace for the rest of the night.

From that day forward, you never broke the unspoken agreement ever again. And Miles never had to worry about you associating with another douche again. Excluding himself.

You walked into class hand-in-hand the next day. The following days, as well. That's the way it was, and that's the way it would stay. And both of you were content with that.

_________

ella no es tú - she's not you

dios mío - my god

olvídalo - forget it

princesa - princess

[soo0hee]

Overload

Pairing — Xu Minghao x Reader

Summary — An outing with your coworkers quickly left you spiraling and all you want is to be home...

Genre — fluff, established relationship, idol!au

Warnings — anxiety, sensory overload, alcohol mentioned

Word Count — 1.3k

Rating — pg-13

A/n — The setting is quite literally what i went through yesterday so this is me just working through my weekend... pls bare with me :((

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Going out with your coworkers was something you regularly did. You were a good team, not everyone had the fortune of being able to say that.

You also liked going out with them, however often times, you found yourself overwhelmed by everything around you. It was when suddenly your social switch flipped and everything became to much for you.

The music was suddenly to loud, the crowd of strangers kept getting bigger and the pushing was constantly making you lose your balance. At one point your knees even buckled and you had to hold onto your drunk coworker who kept yelling a jumbled mess of the lyrics to a song you could recognize over her shrill voice that made your ears ring.

You winced involuntarily as another stranger pressed you against the bar as he tried to make his way through the crowd. Flinching slightly you tried to keep the tears threatening to spill over at bay, not wanting to cry in the middle of a bar or in front of your coworkers.

Swallowing harshly, you blindly reached for the stool where you knew your jacket would be and quickly tried passing one of your coworkers who looked as you with a questioning head tilt.

“I’ll be out for a minute!” you yelled over the loud music only to receive a nod in return.

Rushing out and running into more people then you would have liked in the process, until you reached the door.

Cold air engulfed you, chills running down your spine and a few deep breaths later you could feel your racing heart already calming down a bit. The alcohol running through your blood made your mind a bit fuzzy and your skin that was until a few seconds ago tingling uncomfortably now sporting goosebumps because of the cold.

You felt already way calmer then just before, sitting down on a bench just a few meters away to collect yourself.

You didn’t want to go back inside, even if you had fun earlier that night but now, you just wanted to go home.

You wanted to get rid of the make un your face, the glitter in your hair and the sweat clinging to your hairline only to fall into the arms of your boyfriend and not move a muscle for the rest of the night.

It was barely even 10:30 pm but your team had been parting since shortly after 7 pm and you were tired! You huffed quietly, not knowing if you wanted to hear the complaints of your coworkers about leaving already when 2 of them suddenly sat down beside you.

“Are you okay?” Carrie asked, slightly slurring out the words while Yurin giggled and clung to her shoulder.

Giving her a short nod and a, in your opinion, forced smile that you hoped she believed in her drunk state. Seeing her like that you suddenly felt significantly more sober then before.

“Yes, I just needed a minute. You two can go back in I’ll be fine here.” You nodded, hoping that you didn’t need to explain to them what was going through your head. That might be a dick move but what could you say, explaining what you felt was exactly your forte.

“You sure? We can stay with you for a while until you want to come back inside…”

You shook your head, telling them that it was okay and that you would text in the group chat if something were the matter.

They were unsure if they should follow your request, it was night after all but then they went back when they were convinced that you were fine out here alone.

Relieved to be alone again you checked your phone.

10:42 pm

You could just leave and text the chat that you were going home, but then you would probably have to answer a few questions on Monday.

I might be coming home soon – send 10:43 pm

Typing bubble appeared and vanished again.

Something wrong Băo Bèi? – received 10:43 pm

Want me to pick you up? – received 10:44 pm

No no, it’s fine you should be resting! I just- don’t know – send 10:46 pm

Typing…

I’ll wait for you – received 10:47 pm

It was simple, but butterflies still erupted in your stomach.

Yes, you wanted to go home. Now!

A text to the group chat and you were on the way.

Thankfully the bus station wasn’t far and so you sat in the bus towards Minghaos apartment barely 10 minutes later and 15 more and you punched in the code to open the door.

The Tv was running quietly in the bedroom and the soft glow of Haos bed side lamp through the gap was a sure sign that he was already in bed.

On soft soles you went directly into the bathroom where your pyjama was still hanging over the side of the tub from this morning.

You took a fast shower, tub now sparkly and you clean you finished of your skin routine before getting dressed. The clothes you were wearing before, carelessly thrown to the floor, waiting to be thrown into the laundry the next day.

“Hey…” was what you were softly greeted with by your boyfriend who had his glasses perched on his nose and a book in his hands. He looked unbelievably soft swallowed by the fluffy comforter in pillow and quickly you crawled in on the other side.

He put the book aside and took his glasses of so he could comfortably wrap his arms around your tired form.

“hi.” You murmured back, face hidden in his chest.

You felt his hand running down your spine soothingly, causing you to melt against him.

“Tired?” he hummed.

You nodded.

“Did something happen Băo Bèi?”

You looked up, eyes meeting his loving ones and you enjoyed the press of his plump lips against your forehead.

“Nothing bad, at some point I just felt like I needed to get out of there. It just-“

“Got to much?”

“Mhmm, there were so many people who kept pushing to get past us, the music wasn’t my taste after a while and if I ever have to hear my coworker sing again I will throw something! Seriously, my ears are still ringing!”

Minghao snorted at the last part.

He knew how you sometimes couldn’t handle your emotions well, always there by yours side when you had a hard time understanding them so this wasn’t the first time this happened. For you, in those moments, you felt like you had to escape the situation, your skin crawling as touch got to much, the noises surrounding you getting to much and every social interaction became a burden suddenly.

He was actually quite proud that in those moments you like to search for an escape in his arms.

To know that you considered him the place for your ship to seek safety from the storm in, that filled him with immense pride. You could have gone to your own place after all.

“Aigoo my Băo Bèi, sounds like you had an overload… how are you feeling now?”

“Better now that I’m here.” You smiled as you blinked at him sleepily.

Hao’s ears turned red and you giggled at the sight.

“You’re still blushing at this? After all this time?” You teased with a kiss to his now healed collarbone before nuzzling back into it. He shivered at the touch.

“You little-“ his finger poked your side in good fun and you squealed in surprise.

Yes, this felt right again.

[ln4bub]

oscar getting jealous over how close we are to logan?? but its so subtle that we don't really notice which makes it worse 🤭

Word Count - 1.2k

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Logan was struggling, being a rookie in Williams was usually a recipe for disaster, and he knew it. He was one of your best friends, having known him through his Prema years with Oscar. You couldn't have been happier when you found out that your boyfriend and your best friend had both gotten seats in Formula One for 2023. Dividing your attention between the two of them has been hard. Oscar's been having one of the greatest rookie seasons since Hamilton, but Logan has been struggling. You tell him every race how much you admire his perseverance but you can see how it's wearing him down.

You knew Qatar would be a tough race, the reports of the heat being dangerous filling you with anxiety. But what you didn't expect was to be in the medical tent on Lap 42 with a devastated Logan. He was dripping with sweat by the time you found him, guzzling water like his life depended on it.

Heatstroke.

He was distraught, he'd hoped and prayed he could get better for this race, but he couldn't. The decision to retire wasn't one he took lightly, and he made sure to express that to you whilst you watched the remainder of the race. You could barely find it in yourself to listen to Logan rant as Oscar held P2 with Lando right behind him. After his sprint win yesterday Oscar had newfound confidence, dead set on a McLaren double podium this weekend. Your heart was in your mouth as Oscar crosses the line just 4.8 seconds behind Max.

He'd done it, P2 from P6, and Lando had done it too, moving up from P10 to P3. A double. You and Logan erupted in cheers in the medical tent, hugging each other as Oscar gets his second ever podium in Formula One - a back-to-back double for the team secured. You rush out of the tent, just about getting to the grid in time to see Oscar getting out of the car. He approaches you, visor lifted so you can see the smile in his eyes. You wrap your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his helmet as you hear cameras snapping all around you.

The energy back in the garage was insane, everyone was on a high. You congratulated Lando as he came back into the garage after media, Oscar being commandeered by Max for a chat. Oscar eventually strides into the garage, shy grin on his face as everyone cheers his efforts. He comes straight to you, burying his head in your neck as he wraps his arms around you once more. Your hand rests on the base of his neck, soaked in sweat from the race.

"Where were you when the race ended?" You hear from behind you, turning to see Jon. "Oh, I was with Logan in the medical tent but I came straight to the grid when the race finished." You explain sweetly, Jon nodding with a tight-lipped grin, eyes flicking to Oscar behind you. You miss the way Oscar's face drops, eyebrow quirking and jaw clenching at the newfound knowledge. By the time you turn back around his smile is gone but he looks calm, "Let's get back to the hotel, want to shower." He explains curtly, marching off to remove his race suit. You stand there slightly baffled by his change in mood but brush it off as exhaustion.

"Logan said well done by the way, said he's proud of you." You tell Oscar, looking up from your phone to see him sat on the couch. He hums dismissively, "I'll text him to say thanks soon, tell him to talk to me direct not through my girlfriend for once." He huffs. You gently place yourself next to him, perched on the edge of the couch in hesitation. "What's that supposed to mean Oz?" You ask, a hand resting on his shin.

"Just mean that you're my girl, and you were with Logan when you should've been watching me." He mumbles, pulling you back so you're in between his legs. "I was watching you Oscar, Logan retired from illness I was just checking in on him." You explain, Oscar's large hands splayed across your stomach as he fiddles with the waistband of your shorts. His lips find home on your neck, "I know you were just being caring my angel, but you know you're mine don't you?" He murmurs. His soft wet lips send your shivers down your spine, your body arching into his as the tips of his fingers slip below your waistband.

His gentle fingers run over your underwear, feeling the damp spot that's been growing since you saw him get out of the shower earlier. "Is this all for me?" He groans, fingers sliding your panties to the side to swipe through the wetness. You nod against him with a whine as he tugs at your shorts. You slide them down your legs, revealing your white lace underwear to him. He urges you to settle back into your spot, fingers back in there rightful place. He collects more wetness on his middle and ring finger before moving his hand up to your mouth.

He swipes his fingers over your lips and you open them eagerly, swirling your tongue around the thick digits until they're clean. "So good for me, all mine. Only I get to see you like this, a desperate. aching. needy. slut." He whispers, pressing kisses to your neck to punctuate each word. You moan around his fingers before he removes them, using the lubrication of your spit to slide them both inside you. You moan out his name, thighs closing in, but Oscar's strong hand pries them open again. "Uh uh baby, need you to take it like you always do." He groans, the bucking of your hips applying pressure to his growing hard-on.

His fingers curl against your walls, pleads for more dripping from your mouth. "Who's making you feel this good?" He murmurs, the hand on your thigh now on your jaw, tilting your head back against his shoulder. "You Oscar, only you, always you- fuck." You whine, his fingers never stopping. He smirks, tapping your lip again with his thumb. Your mouth falls open, tongue out eagerly. Oscar groans, "Trained you so well sweetheart." His lips pucker slightly as he spits into your mouth, watching as you swallow it eagerly.

"Maybe I should get Logan to see how dirty you are for me, show him that I own you, own this pussy." He imagines, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers. He chuckles mockingly, "Of course you like that idea, want to be treated like a whore in front of your best friend." Your cheeks tinge pink in embarrassment as Oscar ridicules you, your skin on fire with pleasure.

"I can feel how close you are, want you to cum all over my hand baby, show me what I do to you." Oscar whispers in your ear, sucking a purple mark onto your pulse point as you let go. Your legs burn as your back arches, a scream of his name leaving your lips. Oscar fingers you through your orgasm, drawing it out of you. You collapse against his front, chest heaving. You hear his groan as he sucks his fingers clean, head turning to see his eyes shut in pleasure at the taste of you. "If Logan didn't already know you're mine at least now the whole floor does." He laughs, kissing the top of your head, making you curl into him in shame.

"Now where do you want to be fucked? Against the window or over the railing of the balcony?"

[citruslullabies]

hii, I hope you're well! idk if you are still accepting requests, but if you are, i wanted to ask you for a dogday x reader inspired by the song "100 years" from the clover álbum (made by Or30) Where dogday before being...dogday, was reader's husband, who never showed up again after going to work one day, i think that song I would fit very well for this

(sorry for my bad english btw)

💜🐈‍⬛

Of course darling! And no worries, your English is good!

Trigger warnings: none that I can think of

Romantic/platonic?: romantic

Requested by: mauumeow

Category: angst

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 1021

100 years

The cabin was still and quiet as you stood in the kitchen, dicing up carrots for dinner only for one instead of two.

The table had two chairs, and your bedroom had a bed meant for two and two night stands. Clothes meant for you and clothes meant for someone else who couldn't even wear them anymore, left untouched in your closet. You sighed and shut your eyes for just a moment as sorrow that attacked you every day came in for battle. It had been ten years, and yet you could still never get over him and it was pitiful for you to admit you still loved him.

You still remembered the day he left like it was yesterday, August 8th 1995. You were in the kitchen making breakfast for two, having two plates out and two servings made, two napkins and two forks. As you cooked your scrambled eggs and flipped your bacon, a smile creeped onto your lovely face as you felt arms come around your waist and a nuzzle against your neck.

“G’morning…” Your husband tiredly mumbled, his large hands delicate against you no matter how rough and calloused. You chuckled and glanced back at him, admiring how he looked so put together but acted as if he wasn't ready to face anything let alone the day. You continued to cook and pressed your lips against his temple delicately.

Adoration wasn't the word you'd use to describe how you felt, or love. Those words just simply didn't feel strong enough to use but you knew no other words for it. “Good morning, handsome. Sleep well?” You cooed to your husband that acted like a dog, loyal and loving every day and struggled to tear himself away from your side.

He nodded dazily, and smiled as he smelled the air. He reached over to grab a piece of bacon which earned him a swat to the hand, making him groan and pout. “You're so mean to me.” He complained. You simply rolled your eyes and giggled while continuing to prepare breakfast for the two of you as he took a seat and adored you from afar. You were his everything, even if you two got married later than some. You were 38 and he was 42, only having been married for two years but he wouldn't have it any other way. His brown eyes glimmered with happiness as he saw you approach with two plates, setting them down as you kissed him in which he happily reciprocated.

During the kiss, you separated your lips just momentarily to reply to his previous comment. “Love hurts, Rich.” You hummed before kissing him for just a moment more, taking a seat when you were done and left him in a daze. Even after being with you for so long and married so short, you still had him in the puppy love phase and he couldn't drag himself out of it. He playfully poked your ribs and started to eat his pancakes first. “Yeah yeah, I know.”

The morning went smoothly as always, with Rich scarfing down his breakfast and just adoring you while you finished up. Then his least favorite part came which was leaving, he sighed as you fixed his tie and hair while he was at the door. “Maybe I should call out today.. just spend the day here with you.” He murmured, causing you to raise an eyebrow and hum in amusement.

“Well, while that would be nice.. we can't really afford it right now Rich. Just go in and I promise, we can cuddle and watch a movie on our DVD player when you get back.” You said softly, since you still had a rented out DVD player to put to use. He nodded and gave you a kiss with a delicate squeeze to the hips, before leaving.

That was the last time you ever saw him. Now here you were in the kitchen alone in a cabin you two had bought together, 48 and getting grays and wrinkles. You still loved him after ten years and didn't dare touch anything that was his after he left, the thought of getting rid of anything hurt you more. It was 2005 and today marked 10 years, and honestly you hoped he came home most days. Others you honestly hoped you developed dementia early just to forget about him but it wasn't that easy.

You still felt his touch lingering on your skin, still felt his lips pressed against yours and your neck and the house still smelled like him in a way. Your loved ones had tried so desperately to get you to move on, go on dates and go to clubs but it never felt right. It always felt like you were cheating on a man that wasn't even there anymore.

You lost your appetite which was a normal occurrence since that day, but finished cooking before putting the leftovers in the fridge. Your body wasn't the same as it used to be, with age and loss of appetite from a broken heart. The floorboards creaked beneath your feet, aging with you as you waited and walked into the living room. You sat on your spot on the couch, looking over at the one beside you that you never allowed anyone else to sit in. With a soft sigh you glanced at the window and waited patiently, like you did that night. You waited for hours and didn't fall asleep, not once and you fretted the worse may have happened and maybe it did. Your heart yearned for him and it ached no matter what you did to fill it. Nothing could remedy it and you knew that.

You still loved him, but the memory of his face was fading and all you had to remember it were photos from your wedding but they hurt to look at. Everything around you caused you nothing but pain and memories that you wished you could claw out of your brain and start anew but you stayed.

You stayed and waited just a little bit longer hoping he'd come back.

Thank you so much for requesting!

[gaybananabread]

Oh my gosh congratulations on the milestone!! 🥳💖 I would love something for ROTTMNT! Maybe lee Mikey and ler Leo or lers Raph, Leo and Donnie. I’d love Dragon Fruit, Oranges & Grapes! Take all the time you need and I hope you’re doing well! 💖

Fruit(s): Dragon Fruit, Oranges, Grapes

AAAAAHG THANK YOU! You're so nice all the time, just make my brain go (>w<)✨! Been a hot second since I've done something for Rise, these boys need some more love from me. (Got carried away but we don't talk about that shhhhhshsh) Again, thank you sosososo much, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Mikey

Lers: Raph, Leo, Donnie

Summary: Mikey tries making a treat for his bros, but things don't go as planned, bumming him out. The boys quickly notice and, after a quick wrestling match and some questions, manage to get their baby bro back into his high spirits.

Warnings: none! This is a fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

“No no nononONONO!”

Feeling his heart sink, Mikey pulled his fruity Danish pastries from the oven. The charred surfaces and burning smell of the treats brought tears to his eyes. Three hours of work down the drain…

The teen had been trying to make desserts for his brothers; they’d been really supportive during his recovery from the Kraang invasion, encouraging him and helping him wrap his arms. Even Donnie had put aside some extra time to shop for arm braces. They deserved it.

His arm had a flare-up during the baking, making him take a break to put a brace on. The timer had gone off without him in the room, his poor confections roasted beyond recognition. He sniffed, dumping the marred fruits of his labor into the trash. Maybe some music and drawing would help…

-

“Okay, family meeting.” Raph sat down with his two of his brothers, Donnie quickly correcting him. “Teeechnically, it's a partial family meeting. If we count the main seven family members and round the percentage, it's only about 42%-” He got a hand clamped over his mouth, the blue-themed turtle interjecting. “HUSH the nerd stuff! We know what we're here for, right?”

Donnie scoffed, but stopped spouting math. All three brothers knew what the problem was. Raph took charge again, attempting some order. “Mikey's been really down all day. Raph's worried about him.”

The purple clad turtle tapped his wristlet, frowning. He had been keeping track of Mikey's expressions from the past few days.“He seemed fine yesterday. Angelo’s face only drops around two today. I hadn't seen him for a few hours, my data’s a bit incomplete. I think he was in the kitchen.”

Leo blinked, seeming shocked. “Wow. Your number craziness finally paid off.” A claw extended from Donnie’s battle shell, whacking the snarky teen upside the head. Raph stepped between them before any more chaos could ensue.

“HEY! Donnie, do ya know what he was doin’ in there?” He huffed before answering, looking down. “I…do not. Dr. Delicate Touch made me promise not to install cameras; even I won't defy him.”

That was fair; none of them wanted to go against Dr. DT… Leo sighed, twirling his mask tails as he spoke. “I've tried asking, but no dice. The dude's clearly not okay, but he won't talk about it. Little hypocrite…” 

The techy teen offered an idea. “We could try to interrogate him.” Leo snorted, snapping out of his little trance. “Interrogate? What is this, one of dad's movies? Besides, it'd probably only make him more upset.”

Raph bit his finger as he thought; one bad habit he'd tried and failed to drop. He got an idea, snapping his fingers and smiling. Bingo. “I got it! Listen up boys, here’s the plan…”

-

Mikey was sitting on his bed, moping and dragging a pencil across some cardboard. He wasn’t making anything; it was just a nice way to destress. Things weren’t working as well as they usually did, though… A knock at his train car door startled him, making the typically upbeat boy flinch and drop the pencil. “C-coming…”

The metal slid open, an obviously forced smile on his face. All three of them wanted to wrap him in a hug, but they had to follow the plan. “Hey guys…what is it?” 

Leo stepped forward, looking his brother over. He took special notice of the arm braces. “Alright hermano, the jig is up. What’s wrong?”

The boy’s fake smile faltered a bit, though he tried to keep the act going. “J-jig? I dunno what you’re talking about, Leo. I’m good!” His artificial confidence got a bit stronger at the end. It was clear he wasn’t telling them without a fight. 

Raph was next to get closer, trying to sneakily box the boy in. This time, however, a small smile was paired with the chasm. 

A small squeak escaped the youngest as he backed up, recognizing the look on his brothers’ faces. They wouldn’t…would they? “C’mon Mike, this can go quickly if ya just hold still.” Oh. They would.

Feeling a slight giddiness rise in his chest, Mikey ran farther into his train car, diving for his escape hatch. Raph stopped him in his tracks, using his mystic tonfā power to catch him in a giant fist. Leo ran over, being careful of his brother’s arms as he tossed him into his hammock.

“GUys- guys wahait! Mikey squirmed and kicked, the hammock swinging as he thrashed. Leo flipped his sword, opening two portals to hold his brother’s arms safely. Didn’t want him getting hurt after all that recovery time.

“Nah, there’s no fun in waitin’. Raph’s out for giggles and the truth.” Wasting no time, Raph started poking at his brother’s armpits. A genuine smile formed on the younger’s face, giggles spilling from his lips. “Rahaphie! Nohohot thihis!” 

“But this is the best! You get to giggle, and we get to hear it.” Leo smirked, not wanting to miss out on the fun. “Big man’s right, Miguel. The truth will set you free~!” He moved his hands to Mikey’s plastron, scratching and scribbling on the area where his stomach would be. “LeheheHEEOOOOO! C-chohOHOME OHOHOhohon!” 

“Just tell the truth, Micheal. You know there’s no simple way out of this predicament.” Donnie took in the sight of them; his co-conspirators smirking, enjoying the sound of their brother’s laughter, and Mikey, laughing and sounding happier than he had all day. He supposed it was worth breaking a few of his rules for the occasion. He pressed a button on his bo, the feather he used against Shredder popping out. 

“D-dehehee? Whahat ahare youHU- NYAAAHAHAHO!” Mikey squealed as he felt the soft fibers of the feather run behind his knees. Curse him for taking off the knee pads… The armpit pokes, the tummy scritches, the feather on his knees; it was all too tickly. It was nice to be able to laugh with his brothers, though he didn’t know how much longer he could take all of them at once.

Raph chuckled, smiling warmly as his brother laughed. Those goofs were gonna be the death of him…but he loved them more than he could ever express. If it takes some playful tickles to get one of his bros to open up, then so be it. “All ya gotta do is fess up, Mikey. What’s been goin’ on today?”

He still didn’t seem like he was giving up, though it was clear he was reaching a breaking point. Donnie, ever the over-achiever, wanted to speed things up. He sent a claw from his battle shell to his brother’s knees, having it squeeze and scribble along the underside. That did him in. 

“K-GAHAHAHA! DOHOHONIEHEHE! *snrk* NAHAHAH!” Raph gave the purple-clad turtle a look, sighing. “The goal is to get the truth, Donnie, not kill him.” Dee just chuckled, continuing the metallic tickles. 

Kicking and thrashing like crazy, the teen finally reached his limit. “OHOHOKAHAHAY! IHI- *snrk* IHI’ll TEHEHELL!” 

And just like that, it all stopped.

Donnie begrudgingly retracted his tools, a small smile still on his face as he watched his little bro giggle. Leo followed suit, though Raph’s hand moved to the underside of the boy’s chin. He gently wiggled his fingers into the soft skin, chuckling as his little bro melted into the touch. His loud and bubbly laughter died down to soft, breathy giggles.

“Spill it, little man~” Raph practically purred as he said it, his tone softening with the next phrase. “We promise not to judge.” 

Mikey whined through his giggles, but didn’t squirm. Leo had long since released his arms; he just hadn’t noticed. “Uh-uhuhum…I wahanted to make youhuhu guhuys some d-dahanishehes for helpihing me throuhugh recovery.” He looked down, still not pulling away from the loving tickles. He’d never say it out loud, but he loved them.

“Ihi uhm… Ihihi kinda buhuhurned them. H-hahad a flare-up whehen they went ihin the ohohoven…” All three brothers’ expressions softened, even Donnie’s. The thought was incredibly sweet, and it wasn’t his fault his arms still hurt sometimes.

“Mikey…listen. We love ya. Even if you weren’t an awesome baker, we’d still take care of ya.” He continued to gently scritch under his chin, though the big guy limited it to one finger. Donnie jumped in, not making eye contact. “It’s not your fault you still get pains. Based on typical recovery times, you’re actually making exponential progress. Occasional aches are to be expected.”

“If you ever need anything, we’re all here for you. I could help with the baking and stuff, if you want.” Leo’s offer made his heart soar, as well as his other brothers’ kind words. Heartfelt moments like those would forever be cherished, especially that one.

He felt a few tears spring to his eyes, arms reaching for his bros’ hands. “Youhu guys are the behehest…” Raph stopped tickling, enveloping them all in a hug. Donnie whined, but he relaxed into the embrace. Mikey sighed, his heart full and the sadness from earlier in the day completely gone. He loved his brothers so freaking much…

[natsaffection]

My sweet Student. | part 2 | N. Romanoff

MINORS DNI!!! (18+!)

warnings: Age gap (natasha = 42 | Reader = 21), drinking, oral (n receiving), fingering (r receiving)

Word count: 3.100

A/n: Second one!

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"Tell me Y/n, have you made any preparations for tomorrow's farewell party?" The two of you had started a FaceTime call to go over the next few hours when Kate threw the question into the room. You just look up at her in amazement, "What kind of celebration?" Kate laughed, "Farewell party! It's a farewell party..For our principal. He's changing, remember?"

Right. There was something. He has become a bit conspicuous in the last few months, what his 'arts' are in bringing. So he was simply replaced.

Nevertheless, a celebration is thrown in his honor..For whatever reason.

"Is this a mandatory event?" No way, you will go. Just because of a certain person. "No, but come on! It is for the teachers, so your favorite-"

"Shut up, Kate! I'm not going!"

And now you're standing in the room where the ceremony is taking place. Kate has done it again. After all, you have to be the one to bring a drunk friend home....

You walk up to the buffet to see what's on offer, and at least you're having a good meal for once. So you grab a plate and grab everything that fits in your hand.

You go back to Kate and see that you are sitting at a table with other classmates. With drinks, of course.

"Here I am just gone for two minutes, and you're about to get drunk again? Seriously?"

Kate looks to you and holds her glass up to you, "Oh come on! Tomorrow we have fourths! We can afford it then..." You carefully wave her hand away so as not to spill anything,

"No thanks..."

You sit down and look around. Teenagers were everywhere, living their life. Teachers talking to their peers and the main character of the evening, the principal, shaking hands.

But not the person you came along for after all. Great..all for nothing.

"Kate, I'm going to get some more food, okay?" She just nodded and you walk back over.

You picked up a new plate and- "Any recommendations?" You hear the question and notice a person stopped at your side, "Um..The things over there, are relatively good-" Your words caught in your throat as you saw the person coming from the side,

"M-Ms Romanoff!" You remembered again that you were holding a plate and gripped it tighter again, so it wouldn't fall off.

"Evening Y/n, what so stirred up?" She smiled and grabbed a plate as well to take the slices you mentioned, "These, right?" You just nodded and watched her take one. "Now then. Don't drink too much and be ready for class tomorrow, got it?" She walks past you without waiting for your answer, "Got it..." You walk back to Kate and the others as if in a trance, sit down, and this time accept the Glass you were offered.

After a while, the events were yesterday and you were just a swimming wreck. There weren't that many drinks, were there?

"Should I get some more?" Asked one next to you, "I think we should take it easy, don't you?" You talk so slow because you're surprised by your tongue, Do you even have one left?

"Naaah, I'll go get some more..." The girl next to you stood up and so did you, "I'm coming..with you!" You both trudge down the hall, arriving totally exhausted at the table where the drinks are being handed out. "We'll have the same ones again!" You only hear an 'all right' and the guy who took the alcohol in walks to the back.

"Didn't I tell you something earlier?" You turn around innocently and see Natasha again,

"Hi..."

She looks at you skeptically, "Hey, how's it going?" You don't realize until now that a duty person is now standing in front of you, and you're about to get some purely smuggled alcohol, "Nothing! We're not doing anything..Noup..ah a.." You try to lean in, but miss expertly and stand up straight again. Natasha had her eyes on you the whole time, "I see..Let me guess, if I ask you a question now, you won't have an answer, right?"

You think about the question. Who has been drinking here? You seemed to be able to answer it correctly. "Was that the question already?" you repeat, and Natasha just grunts,

"Okay. Home with you. The evening is over." She threw hard at the young one who was about to come with the drinks, and he took off again. After that, She showed you the way, "What's there?"

"The exit, Y/n."

You look in the direction and just didn't understand what she wanted you to do. "Okay, I get it." She sets your glass down and puts a hand on your back to guide you.

“I'm old enough, hey! Help!"

"Y/n, I'm not arguing with you! Either you leave the premises on your own now, or I'll force you to!"

Force? Force what?

- - - - - -

You wake up by your inner clock, knowing that something was wrong. Did you set an alarm clock? What time is it anyway? You sleepily look for your cell phone, which should normally be somewhere on the bed, but you don't find it. You open your eyes annoyed, and then it hits you.

This is not your room. Oh God, this is not your room!!! You frantically sit up and look around. It was definitely bigger than yours, but nowhere can you find any clues as to whose it is.

You stand up slowly and exhale calmly when you realize that you still have your clothes on. That's it.

You go to the door and slowly open it. In front of you is a long hallway, which you follow and arrive at a small staircase. Are you alone? No. You probably hear a radio from the kitchen and go to it. Then, as you stood at the door, it was over,

"Good morning troublemaker."

It was none other than your teacher. You're in your teacher's apartment.. You look around frantically, not knowing what to do, "Sit down, we have to leave in a minute."

"Where to?" Thank God, you were able to say that in a relaxed way. Natasha now turns to you and had two plates with omelets on them. "It's Monday today. You have class." She puts the plate on the table and walks out the door beside you. So you were now alone in the kitchen and your stomach was literally begging you to eat this food. You look back, not seeing her anywhere, and now sit down to eat. When Natasha came back, you reply, "I have to the fourth." Whether that's true or not, you don't know. You just trust Kate for once. Fuck, Kate. Does she know you're okay? Wait, are you okay?!

"Good for you, but I'm not, so let's get out of here together." If you weren't in such an awkward situation, you'd laugh. She sounds like your mother.

"Wh-why am I here? And not-"

"Home? Well..you just wouldn't tell me. No matter what, you were just completely unreliable!" Why is she so angry?

"Can I ask why it upsets you so much? You could have just left me there!" Not that you're complaining...

"Y/n, you didn't even know your last name. I could have done something with you otherwise, and now eat." She leaned against her kitchen counter with her arms crossed.

"Yes mother..." You were about to bite in, "That sounded a little different last night." As you choked, "W-what?" Natasha stood back up, "You were pretty talkative yesterday. Didn't know you could utter fluid sentences in front of me."

Shit. And that's exactly why you don't drink. You can't control or know what you're saying, "M-Ms Romanoff, no matter what I-"

"See? Now you're stuttering again, and.." She came up to you and leaned in front of you, "That was a joke. Only your reaction proved it to me." She got up again and left the kitchen, "In three minutes I want to see you ready in my car."

You looked transfixed until you hear a door slam shut and you jump up. You walk out of the kitchen and look for directions to the garage. When you arrive, you sit down in the back seat and wait for Natasha. Who, after a few seconds, gets into the car as well.

"As I expected..." She whispers and drives off.

You look out the window, embarrassed, trying to find connections as to why your teacher had taken you home. I mean, she could have looked in the class book to see where you lived, so why didn't she?

"Can I..ask you something?" Natasha didn't take her eyes off the road, "Always."

"Why didn't you drive me home?" You turned into a street. "I already told you that."

"You could have just-"

"What if I didn't want to?"

Oh, God, you have to get out of the car. Is she going to kill you? She's definitely going to kill you.

"You know..I didn't spend half my life studying for nothing, only to be led astray by a little girl afterward. I know what's up, y/n."

You stop at a traffic light, and She turns to face you slightly, "So. I'll just ignore the fact that you whimper in your chair every time I walk in. Or you hold your breath when I talk to you. Do you want me to keep going?"

She's got you figured out. Of course, she did. "N-no..." She started again, looking down the road, "You do know it's forbidden to have a relationship with your teacher?"

Natasha knows it too. Still, she's curious (For the first time in a long time) if you're aware of that, and if you get scared and shut down.

"I know..I'm sorry..."

This still surprises Natasha. So you knew and yet you don't shy away and repress your feelings for her.

"Can you blame it then? You know exactly what you do every time!"

"What?" She knows exactly. "The way you look at us, for example! Roaming the halls-"

"Darling, that's my job." She interrupted. "And I'm not looking at you all. I'm looking at you only.“

You're dreaming again. Wake up, wake up, wake up!

"We're here." She turns back to you, "If I hear even one sound from you today, whether it's me or my colleagues, there will be consequences, do you understand that?"

There will be no consequences. Not yet. But Natasha wants to test you. She wants to see how you react, if you'll let her.

So that soon she will have you in her hands.

You are lucky that nobody saw you when you got out of the car. Because you were pale as a snowman. You were already panicking in front of her, but now?

You go to your first classroom and sit down like a robot. You unpack your things and try to concentrate on the material. Natasha's announcement in your car still stuck deep inside you. Because when the teacher asked you something, you just shake your head and try to keep yourself down. You just have to survive four more hours, after that you can go home.

The break then came faster than you could look, and Kate had managed to get to school for once. You were sitting at a table when she came up to you,

"Dude! I thought you were dead! Where were you yesterday?!"

"Where was I? I was at Ms. Romanoff's house!!!" Kate sat up straight and remained still in her movements, "What?"

"Yes! She took me home!" She continued to look at you and started to grin, which made you even more upset, "No.... No! But it was just as bad!" Now she started laughing.

"Oh come on! That's always been your dream, hasn't it? I mean, we'll see your reaction then..." She couldn't stop laughing and she almost infected you as you panicked again, "Like we'll see then?! We don't have today with her!"

"Yes we do..It's right here." She looked at her phone and showed you the schedule for today. She has..We don't have Russian or history today! She changed the hours...

"She switched with someone..."

"Now it's too much y/n..Maybe she needed an extra lesson for us..You know how we get behind that.."

True. But also not. You didn't know that she traded her hour especially for you.

"You're right..thanks." Kate smiles and leans against you "Always happy to.."

When the time came, and you were now back in the familiar room, it confirmed what Kate had said. Everything was going normally. Questions were answered, Natasha went over your material, and everything went according to plan.

According to Natasha's plan.

She wanted to make it look normal. But she knows how to get her hands on her prey perfectly. She's got her eye on you. You don't realize it, but your body is responding to her again. you didn't know where to put your legs. In front of you? On top of each other? You don't know, and Natasha found that amusing. She just literally waited until the lesson was finally over.

And when it was, she called you to her. You stopped and took another deep breath as you turned and walked to her table.

"From what I hear, you've stuck to it. Good girl."

"Please stop. This is torture..."

Natasha leans back in her chair, "Stop what?" You roll your eyes inwardly. You can't take any more of this. You want her to finally do something.

"Please..."

"Y/n, just open your mouth like I taught you."

You just stand in place, wondering what to do. Stay or run? Definitely run!

"I want you..." She's got you just about. Now all you have to do is open your mouth. Literally.

So Natasha spreads her legs in front of you. The worst that can happen is you leave. So why not try?

If she's honest, she's a little suspicious and thinks you're really just going to leave. To her surprise though, you kneel down to her and wait for her again.

"As to be expected. Well then. Show me what that smart mouth can do." You look at her and then down at her. You grab her pants with trembling hands and slowly pull them down.

Natasha didn't take her eyes off you for a single second.

You have now got all the annoying stuff down from her, and now look at her glistening pussy.

You immediately put your mouth on it and start moving your tongue up and down. YOU could hear Natasha let out a sigh and lean back further. This made you proud and now give more pressure on your tongue.

"Further to the left..." You do as she said, thinking maybe that's where your sensitive spot is, but you could tell you'd never given oral before. And Natasha noticed that too,

"Okay come here.." You look up at her, and Natasha already found this sight just fantastic. You stand up and she leads you to her lap. She leans you against her chest and one hand slips into your panties.

"It's your first time, isn't it?" Your body was already on fire. Every touch had a different effect on you, "Y-yes..." Natasha literally howled. Fuck, you're a virgin...

"It's okay..First." She slides down further again and begins to play on your nerves with two fingers circling. The motion made you jump and Natasha continued to hold you on her lap, "Sit still Y/n." You whimpered, not knowing where to put your voice. Natasha found your clit and played with it, your reaction spoke for itself, "Sensitive right? Don't worry..let it out, yeah..."

You couldn't hold back anymore and let out a moan. Natasha didn't let up and continued to play with you. You claw at her under arm and let your head fall back,

"N-Natasha..I don't know-"

"Shh, call me mommy, little one. Come on, I know you can." Her other hand now creeps under your shirt and finds your chest, which is now being played with as well.

"N-not there...!" But Natasha ignored your whimpers and now also gave more pressure on your clit and nipple. She loves your movements and reactions. She's already addicted to you.

"Nata!-" you were interrupted as Natasha slapped your clit, and she covered your mouth because of the volume, "That's not right..What should you call me?"

Oh god.

She took her hand away again and waited, "M-Mommy..Its Mommy! Please, don't stop.."

"That's it. It feels good, does it? I know what you need. I can give it to you anytime.."

Her movement quickened. She wants to see you come, she needs it, "M-mommy, i-something happening!" She had to chuckle, "Let go Y/n, come on." She had to force herself to cover your mouth again or everyone would catch on to what you two were doing. She made a mental note to catch up somewhere else to hear your noises.

Natasha feels the wind against her palm and waits a bit longer before taking her hand away completely. "Good..Thats it."

She took her fingers from you and lick them clean. Now it was final. Now she can't give you away, after that intense taste.

"How do you feel?" She asked you while putting your hair out of your face. And all you could do was whimper, "I..I don't know.."

"It doesn't matter..you were great. So let's do that again from before.. You are aware that it is forbidden to have a relationship with me?" You just nod. "Well then. This stays between us, understand? You're mine now."

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.🌚.

[oknowkiss]

my lucky number - 42, drarry. please and thank you!

you got it! please enjoy! ~600 words, rated T for language. les champs-elysées - joe dassin

Harry decides to have breakfast in Paris. He’s twenty-one, it’s nine in the morning on the sixth of June, and the cleansing power of his hangover has allowed him to realise he can go anywhere he wants, with anyone, to do anything, for the rest of his life. 

His Portkey lands in an alley a short distance from the Eiffel Tower, because after the agent had asked him where he’d like to go, and after he’d replied, “Erm… France?” she had said, “The first timer package, then. Return trip is half eight. Here’s your list of attractions and instructions for a basic translation charm.” 

No matter. He has breakfast at a street-side cafe, espresso and carbs and sunlight quieting the pounding inside his head. 

He visits several of the attractions on the Portkey agent’s list: the Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre. All of them are far too crowded, and by midday he’s resolved not to follow the list. After all, isn’t that the point of this excursion? To do what he wants? 

Harry has a glass too many of vin rouge at lunch and his confidence inflates in direct opposition to his experience with France, his ability to manage having time to himself, his general awareness of his surroundings and how to navigate them.

Which is to say: it’s now seven, ninety minutes before his Portkey takes him back home, and all he’s done is become increasingly lost. Harry chews on a bite of pasta and wonders if it counts as being lost, if you never had a destination to begin with? Perhaps he’s been lost — or not lost — since leaving the Forbidden Forest four years ago. Every day a step further into the void, away from his intended purpose. 

A loud, sudden coughing rouses Harry from his thoughts. Harry’s head snaps to the left, his hands already in fists, ready for action. 

“What the bloody fucking hell are you doing here?” Draco Malfoy splutters, staring at Harry with watery eyes. Around them, several diners look away. A lover’s quarrel, they presume. In Paris? How droll. 

“Malfoy?” Harry asks stupidly. It’s obviously Malfoy. No one else looks like him, which is actually quite annoying seeing as it means Harry can’t chalk it up to misconception when Malfoy sneaks into his wank fantasies. 

And no, he doesn’t want to talk about that.

“The one and only, thanks to you,” Malfoy replies meanly. A steak sits half-eaten on his plate, red juice pooling on the china. It doesn’t not remind Harry of the second floor girls bathroom.

“If you’re looking for sympathy, you’ve got the wrong orphan,” Harry says. Then, because he’s already bored with this argument, “You live in Paris, do you?” 

“What’s it to you?” Malfoy asks. He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Nothing, I suppose.” Harry shrugs. “Forget it.” He turns back to his food.

“It’s my birthday,” Malfoy says, calling Harry’s attention again. “Well, yesterday. This is my gift to myself.”

“Eating dinner alone?” Harry asks, amused. 

“Go ahead and laugh—” Malfoy starts, but Harry cuts him off.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Harry says. “I—” He bites his lip. “I do the same thing.” 

“Other people are exhausting,” Malfoy insists, his face red. 

“Hell is other people,” Harry says. Then he's blushing, too. “I read that on a bag once.” 

“And did it hurt, reading all those words in one go?” Malfoy says. A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. 

Harry checks his watch. Half-seven. He looks down at his pasta. Mostly eaten.

“I’ve an hour before my Portkey,” Harry says, and he’s barreling forward blindly now, no idea where this will land. “Shall we order dessert?

(give me a number 1 - 100 & i'll write you a drabble based on the corresponding song on my spotify wrapped)

[sweetichigo-write]

Casse Croute

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

cw: SFW, fluff, angst, major character death

word count: 4,278

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

11:42 pm

That's what the clock read.

I did not notice it was this late. I always never mind the time. Rotting in bed was all I could do. Staring at the ceiling, dozing off, waking up, then stare the ceiling again and the cycle repeats.

I went downstairs to the kitchen to drink. It feels heavy to walk. Before I opened the fridge, I noticed a plastic bag, and inside of it was a paper bowl. When I opened the bag slightly, I saw a soup and a note on the lid. 

Hey (y/n)! I bought the soup from your favorite place hoping you'll eat and feel a bit better. I noticed the sandwich I sent you yesterday for lunch spoiled on the kitchen counter. (y/n), please take care of yourself. He doesn't want to see you like this.

I place the note on the counter and open the lid. The soup is cold. It was likely sent around 6:00 pm for dinner.

I pour the contents in the sink, and throw the paper bowl in the trash can, not bothering to segregate.

Before I left the kitchen, I realized that the sink was clean before I threw away the soup. 

(f/n) washed the piled dishes.

I frantically ran to the laundry room. Panting I switched the lights on and looked for the laundry basket like a wildman until I spotted the untouched dirty clothes. 

I breathed out a sigh of relief to see that (f/n) did not touch the dirty clothes.

I couldn't stop the tears from falling and letting out a sob. I slumped down, leaning at the door frame, crying covering my face.

I looked up and saw a blue button shirt, then grabbed it as if I were a child grabbing a toy.

The shirt is a beautiful wedgewood blue and soft to the touch. No buttons were missing. The fibers of the thread can be seen, holding the button for dear life.

I couldn't stop my hiccups and sobs as I felt the softness of the fabric. I sniffed the shirt and it smelled like him. Not the expensive perfume he used but him. 

His scent reminds me of the time when I greet him home and hug him, when he picks me up from work and bear hugs me, and when we cuddle to sleep and wake up still in his arms.

I carried his shirt as I walked back to our bedroom. The shirt is very light, but why is it so heavy? I plopped on our bed, laying down on his side of the bed, inhaling his scent on his pillow. The pillow slowly losing its scent made me cry and wail.

I miss him so so much.

The house is so empty! So silent! I hate it! It hurts so much. Every corner of the house reminds me of him. 

The lounge chairs where we read books every Sunday afternoon. The kitchen where we cook together and laugh when we failed cooking the food. The bathtub is where we have our spa day. The couch where we sit to watch movies and discuss mundane things. The bed I lay down where we show our love to each other. 

All corners, rooms,  and furniture always remind me of him. It hurts so much that I want to leave, or better yet, burn the place down...but I can't… this is my home, he was my home.

Still hiccupping and sobbing, I opened the drawer of his bedside table and then grabbed his daily planner. I flipped it to a particular date.

November 23

• Buy flowers

• Buy coffee and chocolate croissants at (y/n) favorite cafe

• Meeting with Mr.(r/n)

• Pick up the ring

• Dinner at (r/n) restaurant

The last bullet clenched my heart

• Ask (y/n) to spend our lives together

I kissed the page while tearing up and placed it on my chest.

I glanced at the clock and it read 12:02 am.

Today is November 23rd. My birthday. The day he was supposed to propose to me.

_______

I was jolted awake when someone shook my shoulder. It was (f/n).

"Hey, (y/n) are you okay? I was dropping off your meal and I decided to check up on you. You were whimpering in your sleep."

I stared blankly at (f/n) and then looked away from her.

"Thank you", I said weakly with a hoarse voice

There was a moment of silence before she spoke.

"Okay, I've had it enough, (y/n)! You’re killing yourself! Refusing to eat, not taking care of yourself, and just laying all day, do you think he wanted to see you suffering like this? (y/n), you look so thin! I am worried for you! We are all worried for you!"

"Did you think I wanted this!", I shouted back at her, "I can't eat! Even if I wanted to, I can't. My pain after losing him is greater than my hunger. I'm sorry for neglecting myself all because I drown myself with my sorrows", I broke down.

(f/n) embraced, brushing my hair, "I'm sorry, (y/n). I did not mean to shout at you I'm sorry."

I cried in her arms, clutching her sleeves not wanting her to leave me.

"(f/n), what should I do? This place hurts me. I cannot leave this place" I can't stop the tears from flowing, not minding the mess I made on her clothes.

"Actually...."

_____

I fiddled with the ring on my hand. It was a beautiful gold ring with a diamond at the center. It is simple and beautiful. He really knows my taste.

(f/n) gave me the ring he was supposed to propose to me

"He planned to propose to you on your birthday. He told me his plans and asked for my help to look for a ring. It was funny because the guy knew you like the back of his hand but still asked me for my opinion on what ring to choose, but I declined since I wanted him to choose the ring"

I was snapped out of my memory when someone called me.

"Miss (y/n), you may now enter", the woman gave me her warm smile. I smiled back at her even though it was small.

Inside the room was a white cushioned recliner-like chair. A woman with glasses appeared and greeted me.

"Good morning, miss (y/n)! I am Dr. Ieri, and these are Dr. Kamo and Dr. Inumaki", I bow to them as my greetings, "Please sit down on the chair so that we can begin the procedure."

(f/n) suggested me to come to this place. I did not know such a place existed. Many have visited the place and have a memory wipe out. Not thinking about the consequences, I impulsively accepted her suggestion.

I followed Dr. Ieri's instructions. After I made myself comfortable, Dr. Kamo placed a device on my head and an anesthetic face mask.

"We will use the device on your head to see which memories you want to be wiped. While trying to make you sleep, we will start reviewing your memories, and you might see and remember the memories being wiped out."

I just nodded to him since I was already wearing the anesthetic mask.

As they started to choose what part of my memories to wipe out, all of the times when me and I were together flashed in my eyes

_____

I went to my favorite pastry shop for lunch since I was craving for their casse croute. After  I grabbed the last piece, I saw a man that was about to pick it up. I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He looked so tired. Feeling bad, I give the sandwich to him.

"Here you go, sir, you can have it", I smile at him but the worry is clear in my expression.

"No, thank you, miss. I'll just grab another sandwich", he politely declined.

"No, I insist", I placed the sandwich in his hand then walked away so that he wouldn't give it back, and then roam around the shop to buy another of my favorites.

I saw the man paying at the counter, talking with the cashier, (c/n), as I waited in line. I realized he is kind of...muscular. He is tall, maybe like 6'3. And he dressed so well. I chuckled to myself. 

"He is so my type", I whispered to myself.

When it was my turn to pay (c/n) looked surprised.

"Oh, (y/n)!  The gentleman a while ago paid for your sandwich as well", she beamed.

My eyes went wide. I was speechless. I did not even notice (c/n) packed my sandwich.

I thanked (c/n) and then went out of the shop in a hurry hoping to see the man again, but he was nowhere to be seen.

_____

It was Saturday night when me and my friends decided to visit a jazz club in the city. When we sat at our booth, I scanned the area, admiring the ambiance.

A particular blonde head caught my attention. I excused myself from my friends, then strutted my way to his booth.

"Casse croute", the man was about to take a sip of his drink when I spoke. He turns his head and his eyes widen.

"Ah, miss...?"

"(y/n). What's your name?" I offered my right hand to shake his hand.

"Nanami Kento", he held my hand, and instead of shaking he kissed it.

"So, what brings you here, mister Nanami?", I sat in the chair next to him, "oh, I hope you don't mind", I sat comfortably and faced him.

"It's fine. I'm just drinking here alone to unwind. What about you? What brings you here?", he shifted on his seat to face me.

"Well me and my girlfriends wanted to unwind too and have fun", I look at our booth motioning where my friends are seated. He looked at where they were seated, and my friends waved at us. As soon as his back was facing them, they raised their thumbs, hyping me up, and I giggled.

"I hope you didn't ditch your friends", he chuckled. 

I laughed, "Of course not! I saw a familiar blonde, and I just to say hi to him".

When I glanced at our table, a waiter was getting the order in our booth. My friends motioned me to come back.

"I have to go back. My friends are calling me. It was lovely chatting with you," before I left, he gently held my hand.

"Wait,"  I focused my attention on him, "I wanted to thank you for giving the casse croute to me. Let me repay you."

Curious, "How, mister Nanami?"

"Let me take you out for dinner, have drinks, and get to know each other", he squeezed my hand gently.

"Mister Nanami, are you asking me out on a date?" I acted fake shock.

"Maybe", he smiled then kissed my hand.

We exchanged contacts before I went back to my booth.

_____

On our date, he took me to a restaurant with a spectacular view of the city, a jazz band was playing making the atmosphere light and smooth.

We ate dinner, drank some cocktails, talked about ourselves, and laughed at some jokes.

By the end of our date, he drove me home.

When we reached my apartment complex he exited his vehicle. As I unbuckled my seatbelt he opened the door for me. He held my hand that was not holding my bag, assisting me as I got out of the car. He closed the door and stared at me.

"Did you have a great time?", he asked.

"Yes. How about you?", I ask curiously.

"Very much," he kissed the back of my hand.

The gesture made me blush.

"I wish to see you again"

"So a second date, Kento?"

"Yes"

_____

Over the past few months, me and Kento had several dates. There were dates on which I was the one who planned, but mostly he was the one who planned our dates.

In one particular meeting we had, he shared that he won't be renewing his lease and plans to move out.

"The house that I bought is not fully furnished. I don't have any idea what appliances and furniture should I pick," he shared with me while holding hands.

"I can help you pick. I am free this Saturday."

"Then this Saturday we'll have a furniture shopping date," he laughed and I laughed as well.

_____

Shopping for his soon-to-be home furniture was fun. I get to know his style and preferences.

Most of the furniture we bought was a fusion of our preferences, but mine obviously dominated his. I wondered why he just let me choose the furniture.

On the day he moved in, I was there to help him.

Dinnertime arrived, and we ordered chicken and pizza. We sat on the floor since the table was not yet assembled.

We talked and laughed as we ate dinner.

"Ah! (y/n), I'll grab something from my room", he stood up.

"I'll go with you," I was about to stand up when he stopped me.

"You don't have to. Just eat your meal. You needed that, you helped me move and organize some of my stuff," he ruffled my hair and walked away.

While he was gone, I admired his place. The house was so big for one person living here.

When he came back, he handed me something, "Here,".

When I looked at it, it was a key.

"Kento, what's this?" I looked at him confused. My heartbeat was so fast that it was ringing in my ears.

"A duplicate of my house key," he paused, " this is me asking you to move in with me. I want to see you all the time. After a rough day at work, I want to feel your presence and bask in your warmth. So, (y/n) will you move in with?"

I did not waste another second to reply, "Yes!", I jumped to hug him, but we ended up lying on the floor due to the force of my embrace. 

We laughed it off. I couldn't help myself to kiss him. He was taken aback but reciprocated my kiss.

_____

After I moved in with him, everything felt like a dream. I get to see more of him. I learned what genre of books he reads, and his favorite meal that I learned to cook (he protested that I don't need to cook for him but I insisted, we argued a bit until we made an agreement that we'll cook our meals together), and his favorite bread from the pastry shop where we first met. When we have disagreements, we would talk it out before sleeping, not allowing us to sleep with a heavy burden in our hearts.

One particular evening, he showed a different side of him.

We were cooking dinner. He was chopping the vegetables as I was stirring the pot when I asked him to pass the salt.

"Love, can you hand me the salt?", I reached my hands at my back waiting for the salt shaker to be placed on my palm.

A minute passed and no salt shaker appeared on my hand.

"Kento? Oh!," I was surprised when his arms encircled around my waist.

His face was buried on my shoulder. I turned around to face him, but he just buried his face on my chest.

"Kento, what's wrong?" I stroked his fluffy blonde hair, and that's when I noticed his red ears.

"Say that again," he murmured.

"Huh?"

"Call me love again"

I smiled and then chuckled. I kissed the top of his head then I said the words he wanted to hear.

"Love"

His embrace tightened.

I laughed and teased him throughout the night.

_____

I was folding his clothes and placing them in his luggage as he answered a call.

There was an urgent out-of-town business meeting. 

"Yes, Mr. (r/n) I'll meet you tomorrow morning. Have a good evening," he ended the call and walked towards the bed where I was packing his clothes.

He slumped on me, burying his face on my shoulder. I scratch the back of his head.

" I'm sorry I will be leaving you tomorrow. I will try to get back as soon as the meeting ends," he said sounding like a sad puppy.

"It's okay, love. You don't have to rush. I want you to be back safe and sound," I kissed his temple and caressed his cheek.

_____

When I woke up he wasn't on his side of the bed.

After eating breakfast and taking a shower I received a text from him

From: Love

I just arrived. Hope you ate breakfast already.

I texted back saying that I just ate and telling him to eat as well because he did not have time to eat earlier.

_____

October 31st

The wind was howling and the rain fell heavily outside. 

Today was the day he was supposed to come back, but given the weather, I think he will reschedule his flight.

As I was doing my skincare he called me.

"Good evening, darling! How are you?", he sounded tired but he tried to sound cheerful.

"I'm fine. How about you love?" I put our call on speaker while I continue my nightly routine of skincare.

There was a long pause before I heard him sigh before he spoke.

"I miss you so much. I'll try to go home tonight. I asked them to prepare my plane."

That alerted me.

"Wait. Hold on. Kento, don't you dare fly back home tonight. Don't you see the weather outside? There's a freaking storm," I said in a strict firm tone.

"I know but I just miss you so much. I want to see you now"

"Kento- love, why don't you wait-," our call was cut off when the power went out. There was no signal.

Damn

I slept that night thinking that he rescheduled his flight.

_____

I was woken up by my phone ringing.

'Who calls this early in the morning?' I think to myself.

I answered the call, not checking who called.

"This is *** speaking, who is this?" I asked groggily.

"Ma'am, this the (random hospital name) we would like you to come to identify the body of Mr. Nanami Kento."

_____

I immediately rushed to the hospital, not bothering to change my pajamas just grabbing my purse and phone and then hailing a cab.

I was in no condition to drive.

‘This can't be true. This is not Kento. He's at (town name). He rescheduled his flight. He'll be back this afternoon.’

I started to hyperventilate, not caring about the cab driver giving me worried looks.

When I arrived at the hospital, I asked the nurse where I could find Kento. She looked at me, and for a second I saw her worried expression then it changed into a stoic look.

She led the way where I could him. Hoping she'd lead me to a hospital room, but when I saw her turn to a corridor that had a sign 'morgue' the blood drained from my face.

When we arrived, the mortician looked at me worriedly, but he still unzipped the bag.

There I saw, the love of my life, lying lifeless.

I broke down, choking a sob. I went near his lifeless body.

'This is not him!’ Deluding myself, but when I saw the moles and marks on his body, it was definitely him.

I wailed loudly, not minding the nurse and mortician watching me as I crumbled.

I caressed his face hoping that he would open his eyes, that this was some kind of joke, but I knew that this was real.

_____

The funeral process went by like a blur. Family and friends saying their condolences.

I stared at his casket. He was wearing an expensive white polo shirt. He looked so peaceful, it was just as if he was sleeping.

After he was buried, my friends asked me if I wanted some company, but I politely declined.

After they left, I closed the door. For the first, the house was so silent. It was deafening.

I then slumped down on the door, crying for the nth time today.

_____

I gained a bit of consciousness. Realizing my mistake I don't want to erase my memories with him. Even if it hurts I'll hold on to those memories.

I tried to lift my arms to get the doctor's attention, but I couldn't move them. I tried to make a sound, but nothing came out of my throat.

'Please! Stop the procedure! I changed my mind! Dr. Ieri! Dr. Kamo! Dr. Inumaki!'

I silently prayed that they would hear my pleas. But as if the heavens loathed me, I heard a robotic voice 'Memory wiped out complete!'  before I lost consciousness.

_____

I was typing on my computer to finish my work when I checked the time.

11:42 am

It's nearly lunchtime. I stood up from my desk and grabbed an envelope.

Inside was my letter. The contents were just about a leave note. I already sent a soft copy to my manager, but to be sure I'll swing by her office.

I knocked on Mr.(r/n) and then entered when I heard a faint 'come in'.

"What brings you here, Miss (y/n)?"

"I'm here for my leave. I sent you an email," I handed him an envelope, "Here is another copy of my leave."

"Ah! I have already approved your leave. Thanks for letting us know in advance."

_____

I went to the washroom first before I went back to my office. I checked my appearance first when my earrings caught my attention.

It was the ring I wore when I woke up in the hospital.

I just randomly woke up and doctors informed me of the procedure I had just undergone. According to them, I wiped out some of my memories. I thought it was bullshit. But every time I glanced at the ring, now earrings, it made me slowly believe that a part of my memory was gone.

I asked a fine goldsmith friend of mine to turn the ring into earrings. It was hard to cook, do house chores, and work wearing the ring. 

I initially wanted to pawn the ring, but something stopped me from doing so. Just the thought of pawning the ring made me clench my heart.

When I was on my way to my office, I bumped into (f/n).

"Hey, (y/n)! You'll be leaving early right?"

"Yeah, I have to pack the last of my things. I'll be moving out tomorrow."

After I got discharged from the hospital, (f/n) drove me home. I was expecting to be in my apartment complex, but to my surprise, we arrived at a large house— more like a mansion.

Staying there was hard. The place was way too big for a single person to live. When I want to eat for my late-night cravings, I have to sleep the hunger away because the kitchen is very far away. The cleaning was especially hard.

When I put the house on sale, a family contacted me they were interested in buying the house. They were happy because it was the home of their dreams, and it made them more happy to know it was fully furnished.

_____

The moving truck was loading the last of my things. With my luggage in my hand, I glanced at the place. It looked empty despite the furniture still being there. A wave of sadness rushed at me. The place was compelling me to stay, but I stood my ground wanting to leave.

My attention was diverted when I heard an engine coming inside the estate. 

It was the family moving in. 

There were moving trucks as well

When they got out of the car I saw the wife, with the same hair color as me. We kind of look alike. We have the same body shape and height.

Together with her is her husband. He was a tall blonde man. Probably 6'3 in height. In his arms were two beautiful children giggling.

"Hello, Miss (y/n)!" The woman greeted excitedly.

I smiled and then exchanged pleasantries with her.

"You can't imagine how happy I was when I saw this place in the market. My husband and my children couldn't sleep a wink last night. They were too excited to move in!"

"Well, I'm glad that you and your family were looking forward to moving in," I reached for my pocket to hand her the keys, "These are the keys, the keys for the different rooms are here as well- Oh! There's also a duplicate house key too", she looks so happy after receiving the keys.

"Thank you, Miss (y/n)!"

I paused for a while before I said something to her.

"I hope you will be making happy memories with your family in your new home", I patted her shoulder and then walked towards my car.

After I placed my luggage in the trunk and closed it, I looked at the family entering their home. Something flashed in my eyes. It was me and a man entering the place.

I shook my head as it was nonsense.

As I drove off towards my new home, I glanced at the car mirroreflecting the gate of the house slowly getting smaller and smaller.

Fin

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I was inspired by @enhaskzzz Enhypen swipe game breakup edition. The song playing in the swipe game was Ariana Grande's "we can't be friends". You can find the vid at TikTok 🍓🎀.

[aninspiringwriter]

Surprise Dates - Part 4

Summery: After a fun night with Raiden, he makes a suprise plan for a date.

Word count: 805

A/n: I have crawled out of the trenches of depression and finished writing pure fluff for you all

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (Smut)

The morning sun comes up, and you start to wake up as well. You slowly sit up in your bed, there is a small warmth within you as you turn to see Raiden still sleeping. Raiden's black hair perfectly presses up against the blueish pillow you have, his breath softly hits your arm. You wake Raiden up, by lightly nudging him awake.

Raiden's groans were louder than you expected them to be so early in the morning, "Oh, what time is it Y/n?" Raiden gets up while saying this in a grumpy tone. "I think it's around 6 am, maybe even 7." You say on response, then you turn your head to see the clock say 6:47. Raiden also looks at your clock, to see it is almost 6:50. He is practically leaning on you, his chin rests itself on your shoulder as his arm wraps around your waist. "Yesterday, I was gonna ask you something, but uh we got… Very distracted." Raiden says, then looks away. He was embarrassed that you and him had some fun last night, you chuckle but then get more and more curious. "Oh? You were gonna ask me something yesterday, what is it?" You ask curiously, your naked body leans against his naked body. Raiden's brown eyes look at you again before bluntly saying what he wants to say.

"A date, a nice little date." Raiden says, your smile brightly lights up the room. "A date? Where do you think we should go?" You ask him, not necessarily rejecting and in fact being very welcoming to the idea of a nice date.

"Maybe at Madame Bo or a nice simple picnic in one of the gardens around here." Raiden moves away from your naked body and is grabbing his clothes off the floor. He gets to his pants before walking towards your closet. Raiden hides his nice toned abs with his shirt. 

"Why are you going inside my clo-" You get interrupted by a green shirt getting thrown at you, a nice light green shirt you even forgot you had. Along with a nice pair of flowing leggings that has blue spots near the waist and the ends of the leggings. "Oh… You have good clothing taste Raiden," you start to compliment him before saying more, "but can I get some underwear as well, my love?" You ask nicely, and Raiden compiles before looking confused. "Oh, right bottom drawer." You tell him bluntly where they are. Raiden finds them easily and gives you one of your laced ones. "How about a picnic at a garden near here, you pick the garden and I will get the stuff for it." Raiden says as he watches you with heart eyes as you get dressed. After you get fully dressed you think about the different gardens near here, then knows the right one. "Isn't there a garden near the bridge where the Sun Do festival is held?" You suggest as you go to Raiden, you start to hold his hand. Raiden's face shows he is in deep thought before nodding his head, a small beautiful smile runs through his face. "Perfect! I've always liked that garden anyways." You say, kissing his cheek. Raiden looks at you with those heart eyes of him that looks like a siren has him in a chokehold. "How about at noon?" Raiden asks you, playing with your hair. You nod yes, as you and him go to your door, you kiss his cheek and wave to him as he leaves.

Later, you put on a greenish-blue jacket and grab a blanket, a blanket with pink and orange flowers on it. You check the time and the time is 11:42,  you start to panic, quickly putting on some socks and shoes and run out the door.  It's 12:08 and you see Raiden, he was wearing a light purple robe and he looked nervous. "Sorry for being so late Raiden, I was procrastinating on what jacket to wear and what blanket to bring." You explain, Raiden smiles as he carries a basket filled with what smells like sweets and fruit, a bottle of what seems to be wine sticking out of the basket. You put down the blanket and Raiden puts down the basket and looks at you, and the way the noon sun glistens on your skin makes Raiden smile. "What did you bring?" You ask, as Raiden pulls out 2 plastic clear wine cups and the wine. "I stopped by our favorite dessert places and the local market for some sweets and fruit." Raiden says, pouring you and him the wine. Raiden grabs some strawberries and a small cherry cheesecake out of the basket. The date was sweet, like the food, and the way Raiden treated you like royalty made it sweeter.

[pluppsauthor]

Fallen Stars and Clouded Skies - Chapter 1

Hiya! New WIP and more writing!

Fallen Stars and Clouded Skies is a gothic/cosmic horror and low-fantasy story. It follows *Thomas Taylor II as he investigates a strange series of disappearances. (*More about him here)

Enjoy!

(Tag list for writing: @illarian-rambling, @casualsuitturtle, @tildeathiwillwrite, @thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives. Message me, or comment/reblog this saying you want to be on/off of the tag list)

-----

My name is Thomas Taylor II, and I am a fool.

It began as any other day would.

I awoke to the sunlight beaming in through the open curtains. The autumn breeze and salty ocean scent flowed in when I opened my window. The sound of ships and dockworkers echoed down the streets as they began their day loading and unloading the various cargo ships.

That day was as good a day as any, with just the right amount of warmth and breeze.

I grabbed some fresh clothes and checked my door. A blank letter and unmarked package rested just in front of the opening. It seemed to be hand delivered, and when I went to pick it up, I found it to be strangely weightless. 

At first, I didn’t think much of it. The only thing that puzzled me was the nature of its arrival. It was hand delivered after all, so someone clearly wanted me to receive it. Perhaps it was some kind of evidence and formal request for investigation. However, it didn’t appear to be an urgent matter, so I placed it atop my kitchen table and stepped outside.

I briefly tended to the garden, making sure the remaining plants would last until winter. A few more were ripe for eating than yesterday, so I took what was good to eat and left the rest.

Heading back inside, I put the fresh fruit away, lit the stove, and prepared to boil some water. No matter what happens, I can’t start my day without a nice cup of tea.

As I waited, I sat down at the table, took the letter, and opened it. The seal on the outside was quite unique. It didn’t have the seal of any country or city state I knew of, so it either came from someone who hailed from a far flung part of the world, or it was custom.

Admiring the look of the seal, I took great care to open the letter without disturbing the wax. Thankfully, that wasn’t too difficult, and so I read what lay inside the letter. I still remember every damn word of it.

“Dear Detective, I hope this letter reaches you sooner rather than later. I’ve recently uncovered a string of disappearances in and around the town of Helorgrove to the northwest. I ask for you to explore and investigate this matter. I know you aren’t the superstitious type, however, I do not believe these disappearances to be something mundane. There hasn’t been any explanations, and seemingly no one has bothered to notice yet. Assuming it’s something mundane, there should be something pointing to it. But there simply isn’t. In your care I have left you a package. Inside of which is a revolver and 40 rounds of silver bullets. I do not know what you’ll find, but I hope this helps you, even if it is only a little bit. I also left you with 300 gold, I hope this pays for any and all expenses you should need. I don’t have much left, but if you resolve this problem I would be in your debt. Sincerely, Robin”

I didn’t know anyone named Robin - I still don’t. However, intrigued by the letter, I opened the accompanied package. Inside, just as the letter said, was a carefully wrapped revolver, six sets of seven bullets, all coated in silver, and two leather pouches that, upon slightly shaking them, sounded as though they did contain gold, and a lot of it by the rough weight I felt.

Honestly, I was slightly dumbfounded by it. I didn’t think the letter was genuine back then, so when I opened it I was kind of taken aback by the contents being real.

Actually, after I counted everything in the package, I learned the writer had actually under-exaggerated. Firstly, there were 42 total rounds and 303 gold coins. Despite the strange seal on the letter, the currency was legit and had the symbol of the king on it, so this “Robin” clearly lived here, or close enough to get the right currency.

However, while there were 42 rounds of ammunition, there was something odd about the revolver. Nothing seemed wrong with it, at least by my cursory understanding of firearms, if anything it was in good condition. However, the cylinder had seven openings, instead of the usual six.

I thought it strange for a revolver to be made to hold seven rounds at a time, but maybe that made it lucky. Who was I to say?

Regardless, I put my thoughts away for a minute. The water had finished boiling by that point, and so I turned my attention to finishing my morning tea. When I sat back down, it was with a fresh cup of tea. 

I reread the letter and reinspected the package as I waited for it to cool. I found nothing new and no evidence of foul play. This wasn’t how I intended to begin my day, yet here I was holding a revolver and a letter detailing people disappearing in a town three days away by ship.

I spent several hours toiling away at the decision to act or not.

On one hand, I was just paid 300 gold coins, told about a string of disappearances, and given a weapon on the off chance I run into something unfriendly. On the other hand, I have no obligation to trust these words, not to mention they stated the disappearances not to be natural, whatever that means, and this town they listed is three bloody weeks away by ship.

I truly, truly did want to ignore it, pocket the money, and do something– Anything else! And I wish I had. But, no, I was a fool. So, against my better judgement, I chose to believe the person behind the letter and package, and travel to Helorgrove.

Unfortunately for me at the time, there weren’t any ships headed that way until the next day at the crack of dawn. 

So, I spent my day preparing.

I put my most precious belongings into a single suitcase. I put any tools I would need, along with the letter and contents of the package, into a travel pack. Then, I put all of it by the foot of my bed, ready to pick up and go come morning.

I don’t know why I was so eager and ready to go. I think it had been so long since I had any jobs that I relished having something to do. 

But, regardless of what the reason may have been, the day passed swiftly and soon so did the night. 

When the next day came, a small bell chimed early into the morning waking me from my slumber. I got dressed, took my bags, and left my home. I made sure to lock the door on my way out, and inform my neighbours the day before about my sudden leaving.

The cool, crisp air sliced against my skin, as I made my way down to the harbour.

There were several large and imposing ships docked there, made from steel and larger than any building I’d ever seen. However, I wasn’t looking for a cargo ship, so I continued down the line and towards the docks for passenger ships.

Then, I saw it.

The White Maiden, a ship made to travel along the lower coast of Ys’thor’ii. From this town, it will take three weeks at the slowest, two if I’m lucky. 

The ship was nearly 100 years old and beautiful in its construction. It was like an invitation, calling me to board it. Maybe that’s because I can only see it in hindsight, but I swear there was a grim aura to the whole thing.

Perhaps it was a ship ferrying me to some cruel afterlife.

I recall hesitating back then, but, for a reason unknown to me even now, I decided to board that ship.

-----

I hope you enjoyed!

I'm still a little unsure of how to write this story. It's first-person/past tense, from the perspective of Thomas retelling the story, actively looking back on it. But it's unique, to me, so I like it.

[mumms-the-word]

A Room in Redcliffe

Part 2

Characters: Warden Alistair x Warden Amell (Lucy) Summary: It's 9:42 Dragon and Lucy Amell has finally returned from her quest out west to search for a cure to the Calling. In the last letter she wrote to her husband, Alistair, she asked him to meet her at Redcliffe at the start of summer. She's just arrived to get a room in Redcliffe for the two of them...and hope that he shows up. A/N: A (late-posted) gift for the AWESOME AND TALENTED @elspethdekarios! Glad you've joined me in my DA obsession and that you love Alistair as much as I do! This fic is a continuation of sorts of these Love Letters. Part 1 is here!

Promises, promises. Dangerous currency for a Grey Warden. She’d learned to live with so many little broken promises, they no longer hurt her. How could they, when it was no one person’s fault that the world kept churning out new problems to deal with, new evils to fight, new distractions to keep her and her husband busy?

Sleep finally overtook her sometime in the early hours of the morning, but it was the sleep of muted darkness and little rest. There were no dreams—no more dreams of darkspawn whispers and the song-like call of Old Gods deep below the surface, a blissful difference from the last decade—but neither were there pleasant dreams of home, of houses, of husbands. There was only a strange kind of suspension, until in a blink the night was over.

She awoke when the first stripes of hazy morning light filtered over her face through the shutters, but she kept her eyes shut. If she didn’t open her eyes, perhaps she could imagine his fingers brushing her hair from her face, his lips on her cheek, his voice in her ear, his warmth nearby. If she couldn’t have him in dreams, perhaps she could make-believe he was here now.

Good morning, my love. Ready for another Blight-free day?

Today. They would be back together again today.

The thought snapped her eyes open and set her heart racing. In the morning light, all the dread and anxiety had faded away, leaving only anticipation gripping her chest, a mixture of excitement and nervous energy that was a little like being a child again on a solstice morning. All of a sudden she was a bride again, waking up on the morning of her wedding, anxious to get things over with but eager, excited, giddy at the thought of seeing her love later in the day.

Her love. Alistair. Her husband. The love of her life.

At some point today, he would be waiting at the base of the griffon statue, the one commemorating their deeds in Ferelden. That was where they usually met up, on the rare occasions they were separated for Warden business and reunited here in Redcliffe. She’d counted the steps from the statue to the entrance of the Gull and Lantern yesterday on her way over. 97 steps. If he was there, if he was waiting for her, it would only take 97 steps to reach him again.

That decided it. She tossed the quilt aside and reached for her bag, her mind already three steps ahead as she pulled out her clean clothes and began to get dressed.

Whether he was there bright and early or not, waiting here in this room wasn’t an option.

———

By the time the sun was at its highest point in the sky, Lucy had walked every path in Redcliffe at least twice. Up the grassy hills and rocky slopes toward the old windmill, down toward the water and out along the docks, even up to the doors of the Chantry, though she didn’t go inside. She simply walked, because she knew if she sat at the base of the griffon statue, time would slow to a crawl. So she walked. And she watched.

If she kept moving, the villagers took no notice of her, and she was able to watch them as they went about their everyday lives. Fishermen hauling in their latest catch. Old men and women mending nets by the dockside. Mothers chasing down rambunctious children, or carrying them on their hips as they perused the vegetables and goods on display in the market stalls. Gangly apprentices trailing after their masters and mentors, heading into their shops or smithies or fields for the day.

Just normal people going about their normal lives. No obvious anxious expressions, no thoughts of darkspawn or demons or impending armies. Not since Redcliffe was claimed under the protection of the Inquisition. The village had finally settled into a kind of peaceful, everyday bustle.

She remembered when this place was little more than dusty roads and half-solid barricades, when the people cowered in the Chantry, their faces wan and gaunt after days of being attacked by the undead corpses of their friends, their families, the soldiers that were meant to be protecting them. Now those survivors had lived on. Some of them had married and had children.

She watched as a man paused his work mending a fence to accept a mug of water from his son, a child young enough to have no memories of the Blight at all. The man ruffled his son’s sandy hair affectionately and the child complained through smiles about his father messing up his hair.

So life spun on. As if the Fifth Blight were little more than a small boulder in a river, left behind as life and time flowed unerringly forward around it.

She used to envy people like this, so much. These people and their normal lives. These people and their idle worries.

Now…now maybe she could become like them. With the Calling no longer ringing in her skull, maybe she could have something normal now. Or something close.

She glanced at the sky, noting the position of the sun. She’d spent enough time wandering this part of Redcliffe. Time to return to the statue.

And hope that this time, he would be waiting for her.

———

He was here.

He was here.

Alistair.

His name stuck in her throat as she stood rooted to her place at the bottom of a grassy slope, the statue only twenty or so steps away, scarcely daring to believe her eyes. In the dozens of times she had experienced this moment in her dreams, in the hundreds of times she’d daydreamed their reunion, she never pictured herself frozen to the spot while her mind struggled to comprehend that this was reality, this was real, this was him.

But it was.

He stood facing the griffon statue, arms loosely crossed, his face tilted up toward the statue’s carved beak. He wore no cloak or hood nor any Warden armor, but there was no mistaking him, even in simple traveler’s clothing. Even the townspeople glanced and whispered, hovering to get a better look at him, but Lucy barely noticed them.

Move, Lucy. Move! You know it’s him, so go!

She couldn’t. What if this was a dream again? What if she—

Then he turned his head, bringing his profile into view, and all the doubts and second-guesses that had crowded her mind in those brief fifteen seconds suddenly crumbled into dust.

“Alistair,” she gasped. Suddenly she found her voice again as she rushed forward, nearly flying up the slope. “Alistair!”

He turned at her shout, his face lighting up immediately at the sight of her. “Lucy!”

“You’re here!”

He laughed and flung out his arms to catch her as she launched herself into his embrace, lifting her off the ground as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his shoulder.

This was real. He was real. There in her arms, his nose in her hair, his laughter in her ear.

All at once everything clicked into place again. That the sense of wrong that had followed her ever since she left him behind to journey out west was no longer wrapped around her like a second cloak. Even with him squeezing her so tightly he threatened to force the air from her lungs, she felt as though she could breathe again at last.

“You’re here,” she gasped, tears stinging her eyes and clogging her throat now. “Thank the Maker.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t make it back?” he asked, lowering her back to the ground but not yet letting go. He brushed his lips against her ear in a little kiss. “After all the effort you took to send me that last letter?”

She shook her head, still clinging to him. She didn’t know what she thought. It didn’t matter now.

She pulled away to cradle his face in her hands, searching for hints of what he must have gone through in the last several months away from her. But all she saw looking back at her was her husband, with unshed tears misting over his beautiful brown eyes, the dimple that deepened in his cheek as he smiled down at her, the freckles that dotted his nose, darker than normal. He must have been somewhere with plenty of sun these last few weeks. 

There would be time to ask. There would be all the time in the world to catch up.

She opened her mouth to tell him her news, that she had found it, the cure that would mean no more Calling for him, no more blighted magic in his blood, the thing that spelled out hope and futures and time for the two of them, as much as they dared to make use of. But before she could say any of it, he reached up, brushing his fingers against her cheek.

“Maker’s breath,” he breathed. “You’re even more beautiful than when I last saw you.”

Her lips quivered with barely contained sobs, a torrent of tears that she could scarcely hold back, and then his lips were on hers. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing into him, opening her mouth to his as he kissed her like a man desperate for air.

She had missed this, desperately.

In the back of her mind, she knew they were making a scene. People would talk. People were already talking. But she didn’t care. She’d gone without his lips, his hands, his heart for over a year now, and nothing was going to stop her from savoring this moment.

“I found it, Alistair,” she wept, her mouth against his. “We don’t ever have to be separated again.”

———

“Alistair,” Lucy said quietly, her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Do you remember the first time we were in this room?”

They lay together again at last, their arms around each other, watching the evening sky quickly darkening from shades of deep orange and red to twilight purple, the shutters wide open in hopes of another breeze to cool their heated skin. Outside, the branches of the tree that grew beneath their window swayed gently, the rustling of its summer green leaves almost lost beneath the murmur of conversation one floor below them.

They’d already shared so much in the hours since they’d reunited at the statue, and yet so much was still left unsaid between them. There were scars on his body she still wanted to ask about, questions she had, desires she wanted him to sate. They’d stumbled blindly into this room within an hour of reuniting and lost themselves in the act of relearning each other’s bodies, burning touches meeting new marks and scars, tracing familiar paths, fingers curling into flesh that hadn’t been touched in months. And when they’d reached their limits, sweat-slicked and gasping, hungry for more yet needing to catch their breaths, they talked, filling the silence with everything they couldn’t write in letters.

She told him of the cure she’d found. He told her of the Elder One. They briefly discussed the future of the Wardens, musings that grew heavy with uncertainty until at last they both decided to leave it for later. There would be time to figure out the next big problem. This day was meant for them.

Which was what brought her question, quietly spoken in the lull of silence that followed another worshipful hour of heady pleasure.

“Do you remember the first time we were in this room?”

He tilted his head, resting his cheek on the top of her head where it lay on his shoulder. “Mm…right after the Blight?”

“Mhm.” She settled more comfortably against his side, in the curve of his arm around her, and whispered, “I’m still thinking about that house we talked about.”

He didn’t say anything at first. She listened to him breathe and tried to picture the pattern he was tracing along her arm as he thought.

This was what she had been missing all those months apart from him. His humor, his light, yes, but also these quiet moments that she could only find with him. Soft breaths and idle touches, the beating of his heart beneath her palm, his body firm and real against hers. If she could trade away everything she owned, everything she could lay claim to, for a guarantee that she would never have to leave his side again, she would.

At last he turned his face and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “A house in Redcliffe, you mean?”

She shrugged. “A house anywhere. Just…” She trailed off and turned to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, picturing the vision in her mind. “Just you and me and a house of our own. Somewhere quiet and pleasant. Somewhere safe. It doesn’t have to be here. It can be anywhere. Ferelden. The Free Marches.”

“Even Orlais?” he asked, a grin in his voice.

She chuckled. “Okay, maybe not Orlais. I know how you feel about the cheese there.”

He chuckled too and she turned her head to smile up at him. He met her gaze fondly, reaching over to trace the line of her jaw with the back of his fingers. Maker’s breath, she loved him.

“A house in Ferelden or the Free Marches, huh?” he asked softly. “Is that all you want?”

She nodded. “So long as it’s the two of us and a place we can finally call home, I think I could be content.”

“Home,” he repeated in a whisper, playing with her hair. Then he sat up, leaning on one hand and looking down at her. “Just the two of us?”

She bit her lip, fingers picking at the hem of the sheets that lay crumpled over their legs. “Well…maybe the three of us. You know, eventually.”

He arched an eyebrow, grinning slightly. “Just the three of us?”

“The…four of us?” she asked, a little bit of playful hope creeping into her voice.

His grin turned mischievous as he leaned in, dropping his voice with a suggestive, “Hmm, just the four of us?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, propping herself up on one elbow. “How much higher do you want me to count, my love?”

He smirked and shrugged one shoulder. “Well, that depends. Are we counting any dogs? Any stray cats? Do the horses count? I hear breeding mabari is a lucrative trade these days—if we dabble in that, would we count every new litter of puppies?”

She grabbed one of the pillows and smacked him with it. “I’m not talking about animals, Alistair. You know what I mean.”

“Whoa, hey, fine, fine, I know what you mean,” he said, laughing and trying to block her next pillow strike. He managed to wrest the pillow from her grip and tossed it behind him, onto the floor. She went back to resting on her elbow, shaking her head with amused affection.

“So, any preferences?” she asked.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, reaching out and pulling some of her hair over her shoulder, playing lightly with the ends. “Is it terrible if I say I’d be okay with leaving that number up to chance? Just see what the future holds?”

Maybe it was the soothing way he played with her hair, a habit he’d had since their earliest days, but she couldn’t find any reason to find fault with his answer. “Not terrible at all,” she murmured.

“Then we’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we?”

He combed his fingers gently through her hair, looping thick locks around his first finger the way he had done that first morning they’d shared this room. Her hair had been glossy, thick, and dark back then. Now there were strands of gray mixed in, souvenirs of the last ten years as a Warden, of the last year more directly. She watched him capture a lock of hair between his thumb and forefinger, watched as he fanned out the strands with his thumb, letting the light catch two stray threads of silver there amidst the dark brown. Her breath caught in her throat as he leaned in and kissed the lock of hair before shifting his gaze to meet her own, his expression so painfully full of love and longing that it threatened to bring her to tears.

“Maker’s breath, but you’re beautiful,” he whispered. “I am a lucky man.”

She swallowed hard, her throat tight. “Alistair, I—”

“I love you,” he said. “I know I don’t have all the answers, and I can’t predict anything that will happen to us next, but I do know that much.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “Whatever the future holds, I know we can get through it, now that we’re together again.”

“The future.” He smiled then, crooked, affectionate, and shook his head as if in awe. “We have one of those now, thanks to you. You’re amazing, do you know that?”

“Alistair—”

“I mean it.” He kissed her, stopping her protests, letting his lips linger and steal any words she might try to say to prove him otherwise. And when he finally pulled away, cradling her cheek, the love and tenderness in his expression was so deep that any further words died on her tongue.

“I love you,” he said again. “More than I ever thought possible. I love you no matter what happens next. I love you whatever the future holds. I love you, and that will never, ever change. I’m yours forever, my love.”

She nodded, unable to speak all the words she wanted to say out loud, not with more tears constricting her throat and threatening to spill from her eyes. She swallowed, reaching for his hand where it cradled her cheek, and gave his fingers a tight squeeze until at last she was able to say once more the words that mattered the most.

“I love you too, Alistair.”

[necnnights]

In which Yumi has an overdue conversation.

FEATURING: Kikuchi Yumi, Go Sungjae, Go Hwajung, Choi Eunbyul

SETTING: November 2023

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

NOTES: A direct sequel (very direct) to their last piece.

SUNGJAE, 2:42 PM: thanks? SUNGJAE, 2:42 PM: what is this abt lol

Yumi stares at the two texts on Hwajung’s phone. 

“I knew he wouldn’t admit it,” Hwajung says. She leaves her phone on the marble countertop and leans back in her bar stool as far as the chair will let her.

“He could be telling the truth,” Eunbyul says cautiously, tucking her hair behind her ear and leaning forward to further scrutinize the message.

“He’s always on his phone. He wouldn’t take two days to respond to me.”

“You haven’t said anything to him for over a week,” Yumi says.

Hwajung throws her hands up in the air. “I have nothing to say! What the fuck is he expecting from me?”

“A conversation,” comes Eunbyul’s response. She’s scrolling up through the history of their text messages, which are sparse with days and weeks between them. “You text each other like almost estranged friends. Nothing other than happy birthday.”

Hwajung turns to Yumi. “You need to talk to him. In person.”

“Me?” Yumi asks, shocked. He’s Hwajung’s brother. And Yumi never really liked him.

“You never liked him,” Hwajung says, as if she’s read Yumi’s mind, “so you have to do it. Out of the three of us, you’re the most neutral.”

She really doesn’t want to do that. “What if I ask Myunghoon to do it?” she asks. She knows their ex-keyboardist is on better terms with him than any of the three of them.

Now Eunbyul is staring at her too. “You’re dating him again?”

Yumi nods. Their activities have been stagnant for a few months now, and so she reached back out to him and asked if he wanted to get a drink. One thing led to another, and now they’ve settled somewhat uneasily into their years old routine of girlfriend and boyfriend. She knows he deserves someone better than her, someone who isn’t constantly jet-setting across the Sea of Japan every few months. It’s hard for someone as consistent as him to date someone as inconsistent as her.

“He’s a coward,” Hwajung says with a scoff. “Sungjae would deny it, and Myunghoon would believe him. Yumi won’t let him do that.”

She says the last part with pride, and now the last thing Yumi wants is to let her down.

“Anyway, I don’t see what you see in him at all. He’s like a wet piece of cardboard.”

“Mingeun,” Yumi reminds her, because if Myunghoon is a wet piece of cardboard, then Mingeun is a slightly damp one, at the very least. She knows it was her fault for pushing him to ask Hwajung out, but it was for her own sanity. She couldn’t stand seeing Hwajung giggling over her phone and waking up much too early to spend time with him and kicking her feet and twirling her hair in a way that was so much unlike her. To be honest, Yumi had expected them to date for a few months before breaking up, and then Hwajung would be back to the person she knows.

Yumi shifts uncomfortably under the force of Hwajung’s glare.

“Sungjae,” Eunbyul prompts, and that redirects both of their attentions.

“You have to talk to him,” Hwajung says squarely, suddenly unemotional and logical. “I’m his sister. Eunbyul-unnie is his ex-girlfriend. That leaves only you.” 

She remembers Eunbyul’s break up almost like it was yesterday: the utter silence that terrified high school Yumi and nearly fractured the band, Sungjae’s despondence and desperation to get Eunbyul back, and the cold shoulder she gave all of them for months until she finally told Hwajung and Yumi she was a lesbian. It’s an understatement to say Sungjae isn’t on good terms with her, so Yumi resigns herself to her fate.

It’s much, much harder to get hold of Sungjae than it should be. He reads her text asking if they can meet and catch up within the first five minutes. Then he goes four days without responding.

(“I told you so,” Hwajung says smugly when Yumi complains.)

They pick a date and a place. Then something comes up half an hour before, and Sungjae cancels just as Yumi finishes getting ready. 

(“Don’t dress up for him,” Hwajung says disapprovingly, but Yumi needs to intimidate him.)

Yumi goes out anyway, taking Eden with her. She regrets it a few hours later as she holds Eden’s hair back while she throws up in the parking lot outside of their apartment building.

Sungjae cancels a second time, and then a third.

Yumi suggests she visit the Go household instead.

Hwajung is horrified. “That’s his home territory. You can’t do that. And you know my parents would take his side.”

Yumi does know that, but Sungjae is pissing her off so much that by the time their meeting is finalized, she’s in such a foul mood she doesn’t want to go.

“I should make him wait,” she says as she curls her bangs into soft waves, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

“He’ll leave if you aren’t there on time then blame it on you,” Hwajung says from right outside the doorway.

So Yumi goes, scowl fixed permanently to her face.

She beats him to the restaurant, and chooses the seat of their reserved table with the view of the entrance. Then she waits.

Sungjae doesn’t arrive until twenty minutes after their agreed upon time. By then, Yumi is almost finished with her first two plates, because she needs to eat to keep from grinding her teeth to shreds.

Sungjae offers no explanation. He doesn’t say hello. He just sits in the seat opposite her and picks up the menu. Then he says, "I thought you had higher standards than conveyor belt sushi."

In any other circumstance, she would. She watches Sungjae flag down a waiter and order a fuckton of sashimi. Surreptitiously, Yumi starts a voice recording on her Notes app. Then she places her phone face down on the table in front of her.

Sungjae looks up at her and says, "You're paying, right?"

She silently points out the individual plate slots on the side of the table closest to the conveyor belt.

"Separate checks," she says, reveling in the way Sungjae's face morphs with displeasure.

"I heard you're going out with Myunghoon again," he says suddenly. "Trying to two-time him again with me? You know that would destroy a guy like him."

Yumi cuts him off. "Shut up. I wouldn't fuck you, even if we were the last two people in the world."

She’s never cheated on him. She’s seen other people when they weren’t seeing each other. She figures Sungjae is projecting.

"Not for the future of humanity?" Sungjae asks jokingly, but in such a sleazy manner it makes her want to rip his throat out.

Yumi tells herself she’s doing this for Hwajung and sits on her hands. She doesn’t want to be here for any longer than she has to, and at the rate things are going, it’s already been too long. So she gets straight to the point when she states, factually, “You wrote Jaesun’s album.”

Sungjae looks at her with a calm expression. Then he picks a toro plate off the conveyor belt. Yumi expects him to lie, to ask who Jaesun is, to say he hasn’t written music for anyone she would know.

She watches him pick up one of the pieces and then chew for a few minutes. Eventually, he swallows, and says, “Actually, I wrote both of Jaesun-ssi’s albums.”

“Okay,” Yumi says, slightly stunned. She didn’t expect him to admit to it so easily. “Why?”

“Because it’s a job,” Sungjae says, like it’s obvious. “I owed a favor to one of my friends who knows one of his friends. It’s mutually beneficial. Symbiotic.”

It makes sense, but she doesn’t like it. 

“Did you know he was part of our company?”

Sungjae’s expression contorts into an ugly grimace, but his words are smooth and pleasant. “I didn’t. It's a coincidence. Small world, isn't it? Does this have anything to do with my sister? Is that why you wanted to talk?"

"Yes," Yumi says, because unlike him, she doesn't see the point in lying. She also sees how he tried to change the subject. “How could you not know he was a Zenith artist?”

She could think of a number of plausible reasons. It’s possible they never talked about it. It could be Jaesun’s fault. Sungjae could have forgotten the transgressions Taein supposedly committed against him. Yumi finds the last reason extremely unlikely. She doesn’t say any of them out loud so as to not give him any ideas.

“We have a strictly professional relationship. He never mentioned his company,” Sungjae says. He gives her a pointed look, and adds, “Something you’re clearly unfamiliar with. Fucking Myunghoon-ah and all.”

Yumi clenches her teeth and chews furiously. She refuses to let him get a rise out of her. “We’re talking about Jaesun,” she says, teeth still clenched.

“We talked about Jaesun-ssi,” Sungjae says. He tilts in head in what must be faux innocence. “There’s nothing else to say.”

There is. There has to be. Yumi searches for anything else she can ask, though she briefly wonders if she should cut her losses and leave. Sungjae can gorge himself on as much sashimi as he can afford. She doesn’t fucking care.

“Why did you write a rock album?” she asks.

“Jaesun-ssi is the first person who’s commissioned me who let me do what I want,” he says. “I suppose I was a little like Icarus.” He grins. “Get it? Because his name is Jason, like the Greek hero—”

“I get it,” Yumi interrupts. She doesn’t find him funny.

“I miss it,” Sungjae continues, staring down at his plate. He suddenly looks like the young man he is, having lost most of the bravado he walked in with. “We had something special.”

She won’t feel bad for him, no matter how much he tries to gain sympathy from her. “You could start another band.”

“I can’t,” he snaps quickly. “I don’t get along with Hwajung anymore but she’s—”he swallows hard—”she’s a really talented musician. And Eunbyul-noona? You’ll never find anyone else willing to give up a professional symphony career to be in an indie band with their high school friends.”

Hwajung is going to love that. She’ll probably hold it over her brother for the rest of their lives, and then Sungjae will also hate Yumi for luring him here under not quite honest pretenses and recording their conversation. She waits to hear her name.

A beat later, Sungjae belatedly adds, “I’m sure your bass-playing has improved.”

He never mentions Myunghoon. Yumi makes a mental note to let him know later, because it seems like the polite thing to do. 

“You know too, don’t you?” he asks. “It was different when it was the five of us.”

Yumi nods hesitantly, because she does know. It was different. She also knows she has different reasons for thinking that. Her reasons start and end with Eden and Qiuyun, and have absolutely nothing to do with Sungjae and Myunghoon.

Sungjae leans back in his seat. “Fucking Lee Taein.”

“Fucking Lee Taein,” she echoes, though again, for different reasons. She knows he has a grudge against Taein. She just needs to connect it back to Jaesun and his new work.

“So what else are you up to now? Other than writing music for my company’s newest artist?” Yumi asks.

Sungjae’s eyes narrow, and all of the earlier camaraderie from minutes ago disappears in an instant. His sashimi is barely touched. “I write music,” he says slowly, “for other people who hire me. I’m the ghost writer for a pretty popular indie rock band that sounds almost like the way we used to. I would say you might like them, if Neon Nights didn’t sound the way it does.”

“I like Hwajung’s music better than yours.” She knew it was the wrong thing to say, but she wanted to say it anyway. 

He glowers. “Fine. See if I fucking care when the band fucking falls apart.” He starts shoveling the remnants of his meal into his mouth. 

They’re already falling apart, threatening to tear at the seams. There’s no way Sungjae can know what’s going on internally. In public, they’re the picture of poise and friendship, once you look past Yumi’s forced smiles and the way Hwajung has never stood next to Eden or Qiuyun for five years.

“If we were going to fall apart without you, it would have already happened,” Yumi says.

“Oh, it won’t be because of you,” Sungjae says with a half-smile, seemingly to himself, and seemingly shark-like. “It’ll be because of fucking Taein.”

She feels like she’s missed some big reveal, and waits for him to say more. It doesn’t make much sense to her. He hates Taein, understandably, but he works with Jaesun. In fact, he’s instrumental to Jaesun’s continued success.

“If you hate Taein-nim so much, then why would you choose to work with Jaesun?” she asks carefully.

Sungjae’s shark-esque smile doesn’t leave his face. “Yumi-ah, you can’t seriously think I enjoy working for him. He’s insufferable.” He slams his now empty plate down the chute. “How the fuck do I pay?”

Two days later, Yumi kneels outside the door to Fable’s practice room and picks the lock with two hairpins. Eunbyul and Hwajung stand on either side of her, keeping watch, though it’s unlikely any of the room’s true occupants will have a need for it at three in the morning. 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t have met in our own room,” Eunbyul complains softly.

“What if Eden has a sudden burst of inspiration and decides she needs to be there?” Hwajung whispers back.

A pin clicks. “She wouldn’t do that,” Yumi says. She roots around for the next one.

A few tense minutes later, the last pin moves into place, and she rotates the lock with her second hairpin. Hwajung tries the handle and the door opens smoothly and silently.

They can’t risk turning the light on and having it visible from the outside, so they use the light of their phone flashlights instead. It casts the room and each other in an eerie light, illuminating only circles at a time.

“They don’t need all of this space,” Hwajung says.

“There are eight of them,” is Eunbyul’s response. “No. Seven? Six? Five?”

Yumi has no idea how many people are in Fable, and she couldn’t care less.

Hwajung tries to prop a broom under the door handle. Yumi takes one look at it and says, “That only works in the movies.”

She tries it with a folding chair next, and that looks only slightly more sturdy.

They sit in a circle in the middle of the room, using Eunbyul’s phone for light. Yumi can’t help but think that if anyone comes in, they’re unequivocally and irrevocably fucked.

She finds her voice recording and skips over the first couple of minutes Sungjae spent shitting on her and Myunghoon. When she hears herself say, “You wrote Jaesun’s album” she lets it play.

They sit in silence until the end of the recording. Yumi watches the subtle shifts in expression in her friends’ faces: Hwajung’s half-smile in delight at hearing Sungjae recognize her, Eunbyul’s frown deepening more with every question Yumi poses and answer she receives.

When it’s over, Eunbyul speaks first. “I hate to say it, but he’s right about some things. It was so much different when we were in high school.”

“Yumi wasn’t there to talk about that,” Hwajung says. “She was there to learn if Sungjae is weirdly and creepily obsessed with us. And she did."

She beams, though Yumi doesn't feel like she learned anything new.

“He admitted to it,” she continues, clearly on a roll. She taps her fingers against the hardwood floor. “At the end here”—she reaches for Yumi’s phone and rewinds a few minutes back—”he blamed our future disbandment on Taein-nim. Then he clearly acknowledges that he doesn’t like working with Jaesun. It’s obvious.”

From the look on Eunbyul’s face, it isn’t obvious to her either. Hwajung’s conclusions are far-fetched, reading much too far into Sungjae’s words. Or it’s some innate connection the two of them have where they do understand each other, no matter how much she says they never have and they never will. 

“You were thinking about that when you asked him the question,” Hwajung says to Yumi.

It’s undeniable. Yumi nods.

Hwajung drives her train of thought forward. “He slipped up. He first said he worked with Jaesun as a favor. If he hates it so much and there was nothing else to it, he’d quit. I know he would.”

Yumi has never thought of Sungjae as a person who’d quit so easily. She stays quiet, because what does she know about him compared to Hwajung?

“It makes sense,” Hwajung insists.

Except it doesn’t. Not really.

Eunbyul voices the same thought as Yumi. “He could do it for other reasons,” she suggests. “Money, or connections.”

“The connection to us,” Hwajung retorts. “He isn’t doing it for the money. He cares too much about artistic integrity.”

“Sellout,” Eunbyul reminds her, and she falls silent. “And he’s ghostwriting. That’s not the behavior of someone who cares about artistic integrity.”

She takes control of the conversation in Hwajung’s brooding silence. “It has nothing to do with us,” she says, clearly exasperated at all the straws Hwajung is trying to grasp. “If anything, he hates Taein-nim and he’s trying to get back at him somehow.”

“By indirectly working for him?” Yumi finally asks. They both look at her like they forgot she was there.

Hwajung throws her arms around her neck. “I knew you’d see it too.”

Yumi gently disentangles herself. “He never said he chose to work with Jaesun on purpose. He behaved weirdly the whole night.” She tries to remember each detail of his body language and his expressions, though she’d rather purge the whole experience from her memory.

“He’s weird. And he did!” Hwajung launches into the same explanation she gave minutes ago.

This time, Eunbyul interrupts her. “Say he wants to sabotage us or Taein-nim somehow. What’s he done?”

They all fall silent, because none of them can think of a single time that Sungjae has ever done anything concrete against them. 

“Fuck,” Hwajung says eventually. For every conclusion she’s drawn, Eunbyul has matched her with something else that sounds much more plausible and mundane.

“It’s a coincidence,” Eunbyul insists with a yawn. “A strange coincidence, to you.” She pokes Hwajung in the arm. “I'd like to go back to sleep."

Yumi checks the time and is surprised to see that it's been nearly an hour. They've spent so much time talking about Sungjae—too much time, in her opinion—and have gotten nowhere closer to understanding his motives, or really, anything about him.

On their way out of the practice room, after rearranging the broom and the chair to their original positions, Hwajung suddenly asks, “Could you clip the part where he said I’m a talented musician and send it to me?”

Yumi obliges, right then and there.

[ja3gerb0mbb]

bloodsucker chapter 2: photograph

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

word count: 3k

content warning: none

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it was three am when i got back. i had just about enough energy to kick off my shoes, and throw myself onto the bed. my memory is cloudy after watching eren leave. jean probably took me and sasha home; he always does. even with my head feeling like mush,  my mind refused to turn off; i just started at the ceiling. eren was coursing through my thoughts like the alcohol ran through my veins. i kept asking myself why i seemed to care as much as i did. it’s just the draw from having mutual friends, is all  i chalked it up to.  

i flip over my phone next to me, checking the time. 5:42 it read. what the fuck? have i really just been laying here? i unzip my dress, pulling it off, before going to find a t-shirt to wear. for the first time tonight, i slip under the covers of my bed. looking toward my window, i notice it’s raining. nothing new. fall starts early in oregon. 

suddenly, my mind sobers up and my thoughts become clear as day. shivers are sent down my spine, and the hair on my neck seems to stand up. i adjust my position on the bed, sitting up to fully face the window. the dark that covers the earth blocks me from getting a good view, but i can't shake the feeling there are eyes on me yet again. 

the inscent blaring of my alarm woke me up just five hours later. my eyelids felt like they were glued together. today was another literature class. quickly, i threw the warm and comforting sheets off me to get dressed. honestly, the only motivation i had was the allure of eren. would he even show? with his previous track record i wasn’t sure.  

did i even want to see him? after last night.. i didn’t know. his hasty absence felt like it was my fault. but how could that be? we’ve barely spoken to each other, if you could even say that. with the damp whether, i opted for an oversized hoodie and baggy jeans. before leaving the dorm, i grabbed a monster. five hours was not going to be enough after the night i had. 

eren was already sitting down; in the same seat as yesterday. that’s good, right? there were a lot of empty seats, he could’ve just switched if he really wanted to. or he just didn’t care enough to. i carefully made my way up the steps, once again hyper aware of my body. overthinking is such a bitch. i pulled the chair beside him out, and he made no move. his eyes stayed trained on the front of the room.

“you were at reiner’s party,” it was more of a statement i spoke. i didn’t like his attitude towards me; but maybe he just needed to warm up to people. he briefly tipped his head in my direction, but his eyes made no contact with mine, “so were you,” his voice has lost all of the husk from yesterday. as i was about to make a snide remark, ackerman had walked into the room. still, eren didn’t seem to be in a talking mood. ever apparently. 

throughout the lecture, i found myself sneaking constant glances at the boy next to me, again. instead of being tied back, his hair was down and fell around his face. but he wore the same look on his face; exhausted. eventually i tuned back into the lecture when i heard “project.”

“-- research paper on the anglo saxon’s work. you can pick any you want, but you will be doing this with a partner since i will be expecting fifteen pages minimum,” groans were heard around the classroom. i glanced over at eren, who had no change in facial expression despite the hefty assignment just given. did he already know of someone he was going to work with? fuck. i looked around the room at my classmates for the first time to scope out my options. definitely not floch, i thought as i spotted his orange hair. 

when class ended, i took one more glance at eren who showed no acknowledgement towards me before making my way out of class. i decided decompressing with jean would lighten the brick in my stomach and changed directions to the dorms on the southside of campus. a few moments later, i felt a hand on my shoulder through my jacket, and turned toward it, slightly stunned. looking into my eyes were the green ones that belonged to eren. my eyes widened, and he didn’t make a move to say anything, almost as if grabbing me caught him off guard too. 

“do you already have a partner?” he asked with a huff, annoyed almost. “um, no,” i responded. 

“then you’ll do it with me,” he demanded with a flat tone. “your dorm or the library,” he asked but neither felt like he was granting me the option. i didn’t feel comfortable working in libraries; too many distractions which might work out well in this case. i contradicted myself by saying “dorm,” anyway. he tilted his head down in agreement, and he turned around. a few seconds later, i blinked and he was gone. i was taken aback, and fervently searched my surroundings: right, left, behind. but he was gone. 

he might’ve been a total ass, but i couldn’t keep the butterflies from fluttering in my chest. there was something about him that allured me. i shook my head in an attempt to scatter the feelings. before i could start walking again, my phone went off.

727 xxx xxx:

it’s eren

you:

hi eren

eren >:(

when did you wanna start

you:

does tmrw work?

eren >:(

yeah, 2pm ?

you liked a message

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the light outside slowly started to become dimmer as the sun set. jean’s dorm always had the best sunset views. with the ‘flannel’ candle burning, the ambiance in the room was almost romantic. but the sounds of ghasts growling on the monitor definitely ruined it. we played minecraft frequently, and tonight was no different. 

“fuck!” i yelled, “fucking skeletons keep killing me!” i lightly threw the controller in front of me. it had already been the third time i was killed in the nether, and i was over it. i got up from jean’s bed, pacing around the room. “can you chill? you’re worse than connie,” jean teased me. i rolled my eyes, and started fiddling with random things around his room. jean was used to me  snooping, but this time something new was in his nightstand when i opened the drawer. 

it was a picture of two boys. for a second the sounds from the monitor and clicking controller went silent as i realized it was jean. and the other boy eren. they both looked so different, it might’ve been taken as far back as high school.

jean was skinner, and his hair was shorter and styled differently. he still looked like himself. i couldn’t say the same for eren. instead of hair long enough to tie back, he had an undercut. jean still had a few inches on him in this picture, but the biggest change was his face. it was fuller, and there was a light in his eyes he was missing nowadays. his smile reached from ear to ear. i’ve never seen him smile… the picture was cut short by a torn edge on the left side. like someone had ripped it in half. 

“why so silent,” jean asked, taking a quick glance over, paying half attention. he did a double take, this time actually looking at what i was holding. “damn y/n, always a snoop, don’t touch that,” he said, peeling the picture from my hands. he walked it to the other side of the room, placing it in his wardrobe this time. “sorry,” i started. looking up at him, jean was staring at the floor.

“i didn’t know you were friends. i thought you guys hated each other.” his response came quick, “we do.” jean didn’t want to talk about it, but i did. anytime the group mentioned eren, jean was tightlipped. the only remarks he made ridiculed eren; i figured they never got along. 

“so.. what happened?” i asked. he looked over at me this time; his eyes were sad, blank. just like erens. he took a deep breath in, and let it out long before he responded to me. “he fooled around with historia our first year here. and you know historia,” i laughed though my nose. 

“then we started fooling around. i didn’t think it was a big deal. at least, eren never made it seem like he and historia were a big deal. i still don’t think they were, but he got so mad at me.” the sadness had returned to jean’s eyes. “we got into a fight, and before either of us tried to make amends, he was just… gone. no one heard anything from him for a whole fucking year. we all just assumed he was in love with historia and couldn’t take it.” he was staring at the floor again. i walked the distance to him, crawling over the bed. “i’m sorry jean-boy,” teasing him to lighten the mood. 

my hands were wrapped around his torso in a half hug. jean pushed me off, “fuck you,” he laughed out. he reached his hand out to mess up my hair before saying, “stay away from jaeger, y/n. he’s not like he used to be.” it didn’t come as a surprise; even i could tell something was off. 

he walked away, grabbing the controller i threw earlier, and shoved it back into my hands. “come on, i need help getting blaze rods,” he said with a light smile. i went back to playing the game, but i wasn’t really paying attention as i mulled over jean’s story the rest of the night. it made sense; in theory. but historia was never one to get serious with anyone at all. even ymir; they have a complicated ‘relationship.’ it was hard to imagine the eren i knew falling in love that like, but people change i guess. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the next day, school work started to pile up. after procrastinating for the first few days, i had a ton of deadlines to meet tonight. a knock at the door drew my attention away from the laptop. i knew i was the only one home, so i went to answer it. behind the door was eren, i can’t believe i fucking forgot! 

i pulled the door wider, inviting him inside, “is it already two?” i became self conscious, knowing i hadn’t bothered to put myself together today. “yeah, is it not a good time?,” his voice finally displayed some sort of emotion. he raked his eyes across my face, i diverted my gaze down in response. 

“no it’s fine, just set up on the table,” i point to the sorry excuse we had for a dining table. it was an old beer table from reiner we set up while waiting for our furniture to ship. i made my way back to my room to get materials for the projects. did i give him my dorm number? the question nagged at the back of my mind. i blurted the thought out. he gazed over at me, keeping his features and tone even and dull, “i asked sasha.”

“oh,” was all i said. my feelings were.. hurt? maybe he texted me and i didn’t see it in time? maybe he didn’t want to bother me? it was easier to come up with excuses than face the fact that he would rather text my roommate for our number than me. whatever. 

i pretended to know what i was flipping the pages of my book for. “any ideas on what text we should analyze?” he asked while tying his hair back. his veins popped out on his exposed forearms and i had to adjust the way i was sitting. before responding, i had to swallow the knot in my throat, “i’m not set on anything, maybe judith?”

eren didn’t take his eyes off his laptop. “it’s kinda short for fifteen pages,” he trailed, “i was thinking beowulf.”it surprised me he was taking initiative. his lack of expression led me to believe i would be doing this project all by myself. “beowulf works.”

we worked for a solid two hours; rereading the text and forming our ideas on themes. he might’ve been putting in effort, but it was strictly school related. don’t complain, i tried to convince myself it was okay he didn’t make it personal. even with all the time we had spent, we weren’t close to finishing. “do you want to take a coffee break?” i asked, “there’s a dutch right down the street.” 

“sure, my car?” i nodded as we made our way out the door. i wasn’t expecting him to walk toward the all blank bmw m4. damn. eren made his way to the passenger door, and to my surprise, opened it. the gesture was sweet, but his face showed a veil of annoyance. the car’s inside was pristine; like no one had ever even driven it before. it’s not what i would’ve expected from him. 

the short drive there would’ve been silent if not for the music playing. fidgeting with my fingers was the only thing that seemed to pass the time; too scared to really say anything to him. he reached his hand over, turning the volume dial down, “what do you want?”

“blended redbull,” i spoke, my voice scratchy from barely using it the whole day. he nodded and placed our orders with the overly-friendly dutch employees (ifykyk). when he handed my drink over, i had the courage to talk while the music was still down. “thanks…”

“you’re not much of a talker,” i realized how rude it sounded as soon as i said it, and it was confirmed when he shot a glare my way. “you aren’t either,” he sipped from his latte. “yeah, because you don’t seem to want to talk to me.”

“i don’t want to talk to anyone,” eren’s gaze was back on the road. his features were still, but i noticed his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. it must’ve been a pretty hard grip since his arm muscles started to flex with the pressure. 

“geez..” i scoffed, “any reason, or just not a people person,” the taunt was light, but it was there. 

“i have to have a reason?” he phrased it as a statement. logic told me this was just how eren was. but my mind kept making up its own excuses; telling me he just has something against me. “is it because i’m friends with jean?’

“what?” he seemed genuinely surprised by my asking. “do you not talk to me because i’m friends with jean?” i reiterated. 

he looked away from the road, back into my eyes. i could see the fire in them now. i was pissing him off, “why would jean have anything to do with that?”

“he’s the reason you left, no?” i presumed. jean wouldn’t lie to me, and he sounded sincere. “no. he’s not.” eren’s answer was definitive. bringing his gaze back on the road once more, his jaw ticked shut. it somehow became even sharper, and i could faintly hear the grinding of his teeth. i took that as my sign to shut the fuck up. whatever was going on was bigger than me, bigger than our friends. 

the car made a sharp turn back in the parking lot. eren pulled into a spot with his foot still on the accelerator. he slammed on the breaks, and shoved the gear shift in park. his movements were fast and angry, but not aggressive. just rushed. like he wanted to be anywhere but here. with me. eren opened his door, exiting the car so i mimicked his movements. we made our way back to my dorm, but he led the way as if it were his own we were going back to. 

grabbing his things, he didn’t bother to pack them. just grabbed them within his arms, “we’ll finish it another day,” once again he left no room for disagreement. “i’m sorry, i didn-”

“don’t apologize.” he shot me a look of what looked like disgust. his face had gone back to being blank, but his eyes were still blazing. they had life in them again, but this time it wasn’t happiness that awakened it like the picture with jean. eren was out the door in a split second, the sound of the door closing was the only thing my mind registered. i stood in the living room in the dim light, in awe for a few moments. he gets set off easily.. i guess. i might be able to pry with my friends, but it was off limits around eren.

maybe it’s fucked up to be happy that i made him angry. but that’s what i was. i finally got something out of him that wasn’t entirely emotionless. it proved he was even human. the feeling didn’t last long; he crumbled everything i thought i knew about the situation regarding his disappearance. now i was no closer to figuring it out than when i met him. it doesn’t matter, i kept repeating to myself, trying desperately to believe it. i still had a night full of deadlines; so i pushed my emotions as far down as they would go and focused on what was real and in front of me. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

spotify playlist

[aurorawest]

Title: The General Mess and Imprecision of Feeling Author: @aurorawest​​ Rating: M (language, violence, sexual content) Relationships: Loki/Stephen Strange, Loki & Thor, Jane Foster & Loki, Jane Foster/Thor Major Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Word Count (so far): 18.9k Summary: Loki knows his feelings for Stephen Strange are a capital B-Bad Idea. Whatever character growth he’s struggled through hasn’t changed the fact that he’s uniquely incapable of making another person that kind of happy for more than a night.

When a powerful Asgardian artifact goes missing, Loki and Stephen must team up to track it down—especially once it becomes clear that the theft is part of a larger, insidious plot.

Can Loki tie together the loose threads of his life: the threat to New Asgard, his friendship with Stephen, and the feelings he can’t stop no matter how hard he fights, and write himself a happy ending?

Thank you to my betas, @mareebird​​​​​​​​​​​​ and AsgardianHarmony!

Chapter 5, Accordion Folder of Doom, is posted!

He was an idiot, and something was bothering Thor. And—had something been bothering Thor for a while? Was Jane aware? Was Loki this self-absorbed? That almost made him snort. Yes. He was. “Thor,” Loki said. “What’s wrong? Why are you so unhappy about me leaving yesterday?” Putting his head in his hands, Thor asked, “Where did you go?” “New York,” Loki said. “Just New York. That’s all. And I kept The Bifrost out of the way. It wasn’t like that time I got a parking ticket.” “Did you ever pay that?” They’d just move on from that question.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | Epilogue

[effielumiere]

I posted 1,149 times in 2022

That's 688 more posts than 2021!

93 posts created (8%)

1,056 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@everythingfox

@ursulaismymiddlename

@ardentlyoon

@sopejinsunflower

@jung-koook

I tagged 142 of my posts in 2022

#bts - 88 posts

#park jimin - 52 posts

#min yoongi - 43 posts

#suga - 42 posts

#jimin - 38 posts

#jung hoseok - 37 posts

#jeon jungkook - 35 posts

#kim namjoon - 34 posts

#jungkook - 34 posts

#kim taehyung - 34 posts

Longest Tag: 69 characters

#i sent tumblr a request asking about the tip button in southeast asia

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Girl of My Dreams: Chapter 2 - Blanket Kick (Embarrassed)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader / SUGA x Reader

Genre: Romance, Idol AU, Fluff, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Soulmates AU , Age Gap and Drama.

Warning(s): Cursing. Underage reader in flashbacks (Yoongi is aware, momentarily forgot when he tried to kiss her. TRIED. SPOILER). The lyrics are not in order like they are in the song, and the lyrics aren't just Yoongi's parts, they also kinda reflect Yoongi's thoughts during those moments. UNEDITED!

Legend:

"English words that are said as is and or/ translated from English to Korean OR Vice Versa, depending on the POV"

"Korean words"

>Lyrics&lt;

Word count: 3.6k including lyrics.

A/N: Thank you @/doolsetbangtan on twitter for translating the lyrics and explaining every verse and phase of every song by BTS❤️ Please go check out her wordpress blog, she's really cool and her work helped me a lot with writing this series.

Disclaimer: Just a quick reminder to y'all of course that, of course I don't own BTS. And that this story is just an idea of mine, the boys being geniuses they are wrote the songs with a different idea on mind, this is just my wishful thinking on writing lol.

If you want to be added to the taglist of this series, please ask here. or If you want to be part of the permanent taglist and get notified every time I post a new story. And if you want to read more, check out my Park Jimin story!

Don't forget to leave a like, reblog this story and please leave a feedback on what you think about this story :)

Can be read as a stand-alone, but this is part of a series: Read Part One here.

&lt; one | masterlist | three >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2014

Flight number DL6310 has been cancelled. Passengers of this flight please approach the nearest information desk.

"Oh you have got to be shitting me!" I exclaimed at the board making a few people around glare at me. I walked towards the information desk where they rescheduled my flight to the following week if weather conditions at home got better in the next two days. Once that was settled, I hurriedly ran out of the airport with my hand carry and backpack, and hailed a cab back to my hotel to book a room for another two days, instead of going back to my cousin's house. As I laid on the bed, relishing the cold air of the air conditioner when I decided to take a shower and change clothes before taking an afternoon cat nap. Rummaging through my backpack for something to wear when my book fell out of my bag. Picking it up, I examine the cover and flip the pages with my thumb, stopping at a page I bookmarked with a random receipt that had scribbles. Reading what I wrote.

'Suga. Rapper guy from South Korea. Laundromat. Santa Monica Pier. 3pm tomorrow. '

I stare at the words I wrote for a good second before I finally remember what it was about and who was Suga. I got up leaving the book on the bed as I went to the bathroom to shower, music playing loudly on my phone that I carried with me.

As I was lathering up my body with soap, with shampoo in my eyes when my brain decided to wake up and reminded me that I met Suga yesterday, and that '3pm tomorrow' is 3pm. Today.

"That cannot be today!" I scoff as I reach for my phone and see that it was already 2:45pm making me gasp dropping the phone on the sink as I duck my head back under the shower head trying to hurriedly finish rinsing, "You fucking irresponsible idiot!" I yell, scolding myself as I rubbed shampoo off of my stinging eyes.

Getting on a cab, I give the driver directions telling him to floor it as I silently pray I don't start smelling like sweat by the time i got to my destination fanning myself with the map of California that I had first bought when I arrived earlier in the summer. We were near the pier when the traffic started, the street looked like a damned parking lot. I looked outside the window wondering if I could make it if I either walk fast or run.

"Does this always happen?" I asked exasperatedly at the driver, staring to feel down that I might not see Suga or meet his friends.

"It gets worse to be honest with you," the old man says "The pier is just over there you see?" he points a shaky finger at the ferris wheel "You could just run to get there or walk, I just hope your date doesn't mind if you start smelling like the ocean and sweat combined," he kindly smiles.

"It's really a date, but I hope he doesn't mind the scent," I smile as I start to pull out a few notes and handed it to him "Keep the change, sir. Take care!"

See the full post

66 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

#4

The Companion 3

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Romance, Idol AU, Drama, Comedy (hopefully lol)

Summary: A year after all their world tour was cancelled with the announcement of the pandemic, Jimin goes through a roller coaster of emotions and he can barely his emotions and he's trying so hard to stay happy. Namjoon and Jin suggested to get a puppy when they got drunk but Joon thought a human companion sounded funny to his drunken brain, not knowing that Jimin took his word seriously. When he finally finds the one who's going to be his human emotion companion, he wonders if she's up for it? And most importantly, he wonders how things would play out with him being Park Jimin and her being... well, a fan... an ARMY to be precise.

Warning(s): Fluff. Bit of pandemic talk. Sentences in italics are Korean words translated to English. UNEDITED!

Word count: 2k

A/N: We're back to Y/N's pov. I was supposed to post this on Sunday but I fell asleep too early, my sleep cycle is fcked because of insomnia.

Fun fact: this was supposed to be a hybrid!Jimin fanfic. 👀.... I can turn it into that we still got time i guess.. lemme know what you think, comment down beloowww. Search author_effie on the birdapp.

Sorry it's pretty short. Enjoyyyy

&lt; twopointfive | masterlist | threepointfive >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stare at the empty lobby of Hybe waiting as per the instruction of Jimin. It's been two weeks since the trip to the grocery and the last time I saw Jimin, and within that time Jimin and I settled for phone calls and when he had the time, video calls usually before midnight. But little did he know I slept past 3am due to the what seemed to be never ending jetlag.

"Ms. Y/N?" I heard a voice call my name, looking up I see the receptionist bowing. I bow back as I greet her "Good morning,"

"This way please," she says as she leads me to a door guarded by security. She reaches over to the guard who hands her an ID with a black lanyard that she hands to me. It had my picture from my resume and my name in English under the Korean characters, along with my job title, Executive Secretary. If they only knew...

Before entering the elevator, she teaches me how to use the biometrics system to clock in whenever I arrive and to enter the code I'll receive from Jimin. The ride up the elevator was silent and quick, as soon as we arrived at our designated floor she leads me towards another door that had another security guard waiting outside.

"She's Park Jimin's personal assistant," she informs them as they nod and open the door for me. I say my thanks and walk in as quietly as I can. The room was filled thumping, squeaking and loud music playing on the speakers of an English song I didn't recognize, but the voices I definitely recognized. Eyes gazing around the large, somewhat dark room that looked a basketball court inside the building I find seven men singing and dancing to a new song. Their manager walks up to me and greets me with a smile, hand extended to shake my hand.

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76 notes - Posted January 12, 2022

#3

Girl of My Dreams: Chapter 3 - Miss Right in her Converse High

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader / SUGA x Reader

Genre: Romance, Idol AU, Fluff, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Soulmates AU, Age Gap and Drama.

Chapter Warning(s): Cursing. Underage reader in flashbacks (Yoongi is aware). The lyrics are not in order like they are in the song, and the lyrics aren't just Yoongi's parts, they can also reflect Yoongi's thoughts or it just fits with the moment. UNEDITED!

Chapter Legend:

"English words that are said as is and or/ translated from English to Korean"

"Korean words"

>Lyrics&lt;

Word count: 4.8k including lyrics.

A/N: Again, thank you @/doolsetbangtan on twitter for translating the lyrics and explaining every verse and phase of every song by BTS❤️ Please go check out her wordpress blog, she's really cool and her work helped me a lot with writing this series. Grab your tissues... maybe? Also, I let this just flow on it's own... so, confuse hajima? lol Enjoy! Oh btw, it was my first day of work last Friday, so the writing is gonna be a bit slow😅 Sorry, but I'll try my best💜 Next update might be for The Companion, I haven't updated it in almost 3 weeks me finks. Imma stop talking, enjoooyyyy!

Disclaimer: Just a quick reminder that, of course I don't own BTS. And that this story is just an idea of mine, the boys being geniuses they are wrote the songs with a different idea on mind, this is just my wishful thinking on writing lol.

If you want to be added to the taglist of this series, please ask here. or If you want to be part of the permanent taglist and get notified every time I post a new story. And if you want to read more, check out my Park Jimin story!

Don't forget to leave a like, reblog this story and please leave a feedback on what you think about this story :)

Can be read as a stand-alone, but this is part of a series:

&lt; two | masterlist | four >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present - 2021

"Namjoon-ah,"

"Yes, hyung?"

"Would you bail me out of jail?"

Namjoon stares at me as if I've lost my mind, he's not wrong. It's been years since I've lost my mind, I just keep growing more and more insane.

"What makes you say that hyung?"

>Converse converse i really hate a converse&lt;

"She still wears those god damned shoes," I grunt as I close the car door too hard making Jungkook who was sitting in the back with Hobi whining and complaining about how I shut the door to hard. Namjoon chuckles as he gently closes the passenger door and walks up next to me, "You've been saying that for years, hyung. Fuck, you even wrote a great track out of it."

"I don't know if she's playing dumb with me or if she's just fucking clueless that it's about her," I huff as I watch her run towards an ice cream truck, "It's literally me telling her to wear something aside from those damn shoes, she'd look in something else,"

>On your gorgeous appearance, black sheer tights and stilettos will be good

Yeah, they’ll be too good to be true

But, what will suit you even better are Jordan numbers

Together with your body, it turns me on even more&lt;

"So you did say in the song," Namjoon agrees "Maybe she thinks its just another song of ours,"

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99 notes - Posted April 3, 2022

#2

Girl of My Dreams Masterlist

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader / SUGA x Reader

Genre: Romance, Idol AU, Fluff, Angst (squint in tiny), Friends to Lovers, Soulmates AU, Age Gap and Drama.

Summary: Every one has always wondered why Yoongi was good with words especially when it comes to the topic of love. It wasn't a question of why, but who. Who made him think of love that way? Who was his muse? Who was the muse that always made Yoongi smile like he won the damn lottery? Who made him laugh even in situations where he had to be serious? If you ask him, he'll just smile and blush, but if you ask the other members they would smile at Yoongi then look at you and start giggling like gossiping high schoolers.

Warnings: Underage reader (first few chapters). Lyrics in the chapters are not in order. Mentioned lyrics are not just Yoongi's parts. Warnings will be mentioned per chapter.

Legend:

"English words that are said as is and or/ translated from English to Korean OR Vice Versa, depending on the POV"

"Korean words"

>Lyrics&lt;

Disclaimer: Quick reminder to y'all of course that, of course I don't own BTS. And that this story is just an idea of mine, the boys being geniuses they are wrote the songs with a different idea on mind, this is just my wishful thinking on writing lol. Not all songs will be included just the ones that will tug on your heartstrings😏😇

*thank you doolsetbangtan and other blogs that I will mention per chapter that translated and explained all BTS songs*

Girl of My Dreams

Blanket Kick (Embarrassed)

Miss Right in her Converse High

I NEED U / RUN

DNA / Pied Piper

FAKE LOVE

Trivia: Seesaw

Pluto and the Truth Untold

Make it Right

Boy with Luv / HOME

Savage Love / Telepathy

My Universe

Girl of My Dreams - Finale

TAGLIST (OPEN, COMMENT ON THIS MASTERLIST IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED) [NAMES IN BOLD PLEASE CHECK YOUR VISIBILITY SETTINGS, CREATE ANOTHER NEW BLOG UNDER YOUR CURRENT ACCOUNT OR CHECK FAQs] :

@belladaises @bbl32 @mizz-kraziii @silentkei @myselfxbangtan @shesaysweirdthings @kookiemyfeels @wackytobaccy @afiaaaa19 @jayjay57 @heyyyadventure @sopejinsunflower

PERMANENT TAGLIST (OPEN, COMMENT HERE IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED) [NAMES IN BOLD PLEASE CHECK YOUR VISIBILITY SETTINGS, CREATE ANOTHER NEW BLOG UNDER YOUR CURRENT ACCOUNT OR CHECK FAQs] :

@lovergirl1316 @buttvi @borahae-reads @lemonadecandycandy @tattoomom11 @misshale21 @damn-u-min-yoongi

102 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Girl of My Dreams: Chapter 1

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader / SUGA x Reader

Genre: Romance, Idol AU, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Soulmates (?). Age gap.

Summary: Every one has always wondered why Yoongi was good with words especially when it comes to the topic of love. It wasn't a question of why, but who. Who made him think of love that way? Who was his muse? Who was the muse that always made Yoongi smile like he won the damn lottery? Who made him laugh even in situations where he had to be serious? If you ask him, he'll just smile and blush, but if you ask the other members they would smile at Yoongi then look at you and start giggling like gossiping high schoolers.

Warning(s): Sentences in italics are English words translated to Korean (that sounded confusing but I said what I said). Cursing. Underage reader at one point (Yoongi didn't know and tried to ask her out)... Spoiler lol. Mentions of MC being tipsy. A bit of angst at the end. UNEDITED!

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: The summary was really the idea or the question that came to mind, though we all know that Yoongi is undeniably a genius in any topic you throw at him, his idea of love is always what gets me. And his part in Girl of My Dreams sparked my thoughts - he's a hopeless romantic. Other might think he's very serious and cold but I think he's very romantic and sweet, even at times clingy. For now here's my idea on how it would be if he had a muse - which one day, of course, will happen when he gets married to his s/o and have kids they would be the lucky ones because they're his muses in life.

Enjoy this one!!!

P.S: this is my 2nd fanfic for BTS lol and I became an Army during the Dynamite era (though I knew them since I saw For You and Idol). sorry if some of the facts are a bit off. Do feel free to correct me but please remember that this is a fanfic, some stuff are meant to be different!! 😅💜

Please don't forget to leave a like, reblog this story and please leave a feedback. Please don't be a silent reader🥺! My ask box is also open as well as my permanent taglist if you wanna get tagged for future stories. There are probably more parts after this, just ask if you wanna be added to the taglist ;)

aaand... Happy, Happy Birthday to the best of the best, our one and only Min Yoongi (lil meow meow). We love you. Stay healthy💜 Borahaeeeeee

&lt; masterlist | next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/n?" I call to her and she hums in question looking up from her book.

"Do you think I would sound cool if I sing?" ask her twirling my ballpen in my fingers, I stopped myself from murdering the button to click it open and close repeatedly out of being nervous.

Her pouty lips curl inwards to stop herself from laughing and she shut her eyes as she removes her glasses.

"Be honest, please," I beg with a smile already knowing the answer but I wanted to hear her voice she's been quiet ever since she sat on the couch in my studio and hid behind the pages of her book, a romance novel. All I could hear when I put my headphones away were the quiet humming of the air conditioner and humidifier, and her flipping pages on her book.

"I mean, I know I don't sound like Jin hyung or Jimin, or Taehyung or even Jungkook," I explained "Even Namjoon and Hoseok sound good when they're singing," she snort laughs and starts giggling hiding her face in between the book, "I can carry a tune, I'm a rapper, I can sing just not as amazing as the vocal line!" I exclaim and she guffawed "Ya~! I'm serious!" I tease her though she knows I'm not serious.

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111 notes - Posted March 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[daisywords]

I posted 1,703 times in 2022

That's 1,350 more posts than 2021!

382 posts created (22%)

1,321 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@daisywords

@unbearable-lightness-of-ink

@headspace-hotel

@ettawritesnstudies

@jedi-valjean

I tagged 1,208 of my posts in 2022

Only 29% of my posts had no tags

#art - 221 posts

#second chance wip - 90 posts

#other's writing - 86 posts

#ask game - 59 posts

#other's wip - 42 posts

#boost - 36 posts

#my art - 33 posts

#my writing - 23 posts

#other's art - 19 posts

#writing process - 18 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i have one black turtleneck and it looks sooooo good on me literally it's like my first date outfit but also i cannot wear it for that long

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Kk just finished A Conspiracy of Kings

Sophos my beloved

the boy is back <3

I just loved Sophos as a narrator! His voice really came through ugh he's just so honest

the shifts between first person to omniscient were interesting I don't think I've ever seen it done in quite that way

bunny :)

"If my affections weren't otherwise engaged" oof

love how the middle section is just King of Attolia pt 2

"that Sophos held Gen's heart in his hand" + "He would have given Eugenides his heart on a toothpick, if asked" ok cool cool

we still stan Eddis Helen

I want to know more about Sophos's sisters they seem cool

uM did he just—yes he did ok he went there

"You shot the ambassador?" my Lord Attolis you gave me the gun

It's all just about how they all love each other but it's so much more complicated than that, except that in the end it isn't

Wow this book is so...heartfelt idk

Sophos my beloved

and here's the complementary doodle of Eddis and our boy Sophos ofc

140 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

#4

Ok so read The King of Attolia yesterday and wow ok

Costis is one of those characters that's just some guy but like. he's my guy

Also I love his friendship with Aris? just like aww look they're friends

just because no one ever sees the king visit the queen doesn't mean he's not you idiots did you forget everything you ever knew about the guy?

I feel like the narrative distance between the reader and Gen has to get further and further away lest we know what he is up to

What did Relius actually do wrong? was kinda confused there tbh

I guess Gen being mortally wounded is just a staple for this series like jeez give the guy a break

And yup there we go

Costis the whole time like "get a room" except they have a room he's just. also there

Aww Sejanus and Dite really did love each other <3

Also Sophos is missing??? Someone better go find him right now

This book was just straight character dynamics and I was riveted

I feel like Megan Whalen Turner Understands Something About Intimacy

This book is so incredibly spicy you guys

ok anyway here's the king and queen themselves and of course our boy Costis

156 notes - Posted March 11, 2022

#3

minimum page counts really coming for those of us who are concise

332 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

#2

can't believe it's 2022 and we still have posts around about not overusing "said" like seriously? Imagine if I made a list of words to use instead of "and." wouldn't that be stupid?

1,162 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Conlanging for cheaters

quick tips for creating fantasy language(s) that look believable if you squint

Pick a few rules about what letter/sound combinations can and cannot exist (or are common/uncommon). For example, in English, "sp" or "st" can begin a word, but in Spanish they can't. The "ng" sound (or the voiced velar nasal if you want to get technical), can't appear at the beginning of a syllable in English, but it can in at least of third of languages around the world. English allows for consonant clusters (more than one consonant together without a vowel), but some languages, such as Hawaiian, don't. Picking a few distinctive rules that are different from English or the language you are writing in, and sticking to them, will yield a lot better results than just keysmashing.

Assign meaning to a few suffixes, prefixes, or roots. A simple and useful example of this is making up a particle that means -land or -city or -town, and tacking it onto your appropriate place names. You could also have a particle with a similar meaning to the "er/or one we have in English, such as in "baker," "singer," or "operator," and then incorporate it in your fantasy titles or professions. It's like an Easter egg for careful readers to figure out, and it will make your language/world feel more cohesive.

Focus on places and names. You usually don't need to write full sentences/paragraphs in your conlang. What you might want to do with it is name things. The flavor of your language will seep in from the background, with the added benefit of giving readers some hints on background lore. For example, you could have a conlang that corresponds to a certain group of people, and a character with a corresponding name could then be coded as being from that group without having to specify. A human-inhabited city with an elven-sounding name might imply that it was previously inhabited by elves.

You don't have to know what everything means. Unless you are Linguistics Georg R. R. Tolkien, you probably don't want to (and shouldn't!) actually make up a whole language. So stick some letters together (following your linguistic rules, of course) and save fretting over grammar and definitions for the important stuff.

(Bonus) This isn't technically conlanging, but it can be fun to make up an idiom or two for your fantasy culture (just in English or whatevs) and sprinkle that in a few times. The right made-up idiom can allude to much larger cultural elements without you having to actually explain it.

Congrats! You now have a conlang you can dust over your wip like an appropriate amount of glitter. Conlangs can be intimidating, just because there's so much you can do, but that doesn't mean you have to do it all. So yeah anyway here's what I would recommend; hope y'all have fun :D

5,598 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

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