#i can clear my head with a more straightforward idea

[bookshelf-in-progress]

I'm approaching the most terrifying part of the Exciting New Story Idea process: Writing it down.

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs. 

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big. 

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.” 

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[sweetlyvibe]

TENDING TO YOU

Atsumu Miya’s day started like any other, with volleyball practice at Inarizaki. But when their captain, Kita, called for a brief team meeting before warmups, something felt off.

“The manager won’t be with us for a while,” Kita said, straightforward as always. “She’s caught a pretty bad cold, so she’ll need to rest. I’ve arranged for a substitute to step in temporarily.”

Atsumu’s heart skipped a beat. You were sick? He didn’t even notice you feeling unwell yesterday. He leaned forward, hands bracing on his knees, eyes fixed on Kita as if the captain might reveal more. He didn’t like this at all.

“You all better behave for the substitute,” Kita continued. “I’ll bring some supplies to her after practice. Make sure she has everything she needs.”

But Atsumu’s mind was already running wild. You were home, probably curled up in bed, miserable and alone. The idea of you being sick without anyone by your side didn’t sit right with him. Without thinking twice, he bolted out of the gym before Kita could finish.

“I’ll go!”

The knock on my door was loud enough to startle me, even in my feverish state. Sitting up slowly, I blinked at the door, confused. Kita told me he would drop by later, but it was way too soon. Did he skip practice for me?

Groaning, I shuffled over to the door, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders. When I opened it, though, the last person I expected to see stood there.

“Tsumu?” I croaked, disbelief making me blink again. “What are you doing here?”

There he was, Atsumu Miya, holding two shopping bags in each hand, his face flushed—either from sprinting over or the awkwardness he was clearly not used to feeling. His hair was a mess, and his jacket was slipping off one shoulder. He looked as flustered as I felt.

“I, uh…” He hesitated for the briefest moment before stepping inside, as if he owned the place. “Kita was gonna bring this stuff over, but I thought I’d save him the trouble.” His voice was casual, but his eyes were scanning me like he was trying to figure out what to do next.

“You… skipped practice?” I asked, my throat scratchy as I spoke.

Atsumu put the bags down, suddenly busying himself with pulling out tissues, medicine, a water bottle, and… a can of soup? The guy bought canned soup. How could I not laugh at that?

“I couldn’t focus knowing you’re sick,” he muttered, half-avoiding eye contact. His voice softened. “Besides, that substitute manager isn’t gonna do the job half as good as ya do.”

I watched him fumble around my small kitchen, acting way more comfortable than he had any right to be in my space. It was kind of sweet, even if he looked absolutely lost. Atsumu Miya, the loud, confident setter who could command a court like no one else, was completely out of his element here.

“Tsumu, you don’t have to—”

“Shut up,” he cut me off, voice softer than usual. “You need to rest, and I’m here to help. So let me.”

It was clear he had no clue what he was doing. He kept glancing around, probably wondering what else he should be doing. But the effort—God, it made my chest feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with the fever.

I smiled, despite myself, watching him with a mix of amusement and affection. He was trying so hard, even if he was in over his head.

“Fine,” I murmured, feeling too tired to argue. “But at least let me show you how to heat up the soup properly.”

He grinned at me, the smugness returning just a bit. “I knew you’d need me.”

Rolling my eyes, I tugged the blanket tighter around me and sat on the couch. Maybe Atsumu was inexperienced at taking care of someone, but the way he tried—earnest, awkward, and just a little bit proud—was enough to make me feel better already.

[pholla-jm]

Pretty Boy

IMAGINE: PRETTY BOY~ SANJI X F!READER GENRE: FLUFF WARNINGS: NONE ************************

Sanji flirts with any woman with a pair of legs, and you were definitely no exception. His straightforward techniques kind of made you scared, and shy away a little. Especially since his techniques were very different from yours. He was upfront about it, straight forward. 

You on the hand were very subtle with it. Dropping hints here and there. Making them question what just happened and let them ponder about you. You were all about personal space, eye contact, and body language. You weren’t one for words. 

For personal space, you didn’t get too much in his personal space, but just enough to make him freeze up. For example, when you were in the kitchen grabbing a drink or a small drink. Sanji usually tries to stop you from getting it, claiming that you shouldn’t have to do any physical labor while you are around. 

“It’s okay,” you softly say, reaching your arm around him, not really moving from your spot, “I’m a big girl. I can do it myself.” Sanji swears his heart stops at hearing your words. You were close to him, but not close enough. He could smell the faint trace of your perfume, and all he wants to do is pull you in closer to feel your warmth and smell more of your lotion/perfume. However, he holds himself back every single time. He swears he has the willpower of a god for not craving into his desires. 

For eye contact, you like to use something called the ‘lash method’. Every once in a while, when Sanji makes eye contact, you initiate the lash method. 

Sanji was clearing up the kitchen. Beside him, you were the last one in the room. 

“I can get that out of the way for you.” He says, offering to grab your now finished plate. You look up at him to see that he was holding a hand out. The light behind him made him almost ethereal. You look slightly back down at the empty plate, then back at him. But you didn’t move your head up. Instead, you looked back at him through your lashes. 

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” You say and his heart beats about ten times faster. 

He would serve you forever, just to have you look at him like that again. 

Body language is very important to you. When you can understand how to read a person, it is very easy to understand them. So you employ this language as well. Positive things that you did around Sanji included, constantly smiling, leaning in slightly, mirroring his actions, and tilting your head slightly while he was talking to you. 

Sanji definitely noticed this body language from you. And he enjoyed it very much. Especially when you leaned in slightly into his touch. 

But one night, you decide to be bold. Really get his heart beating and his brain to stop working. 

One night you offer to help Sanji with the dishes after a rather large dinner. So there were a lot of dishes. 

“Are you sure you want to wash the dishes, mi amor? I wouldn’t want your hands to get pruny.” 

You turn around, to see that Sanji was right behind you. So you had to tilt your head up slightly to look at him. He had a small pout on his lips, the mere idea of you doing physical labor bothering him. But he knew if he told you, you would only fight back. And he definitely didn’t want to do that. 

You smile up at him. The same smile that causes butterflies to swarm his stomach. 

“Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours. That’s what gloves are for. I’ll be fine.” 

Sanji swears his brain stops working. Only one word repeating in his head. 

Pretty. Pretty. Pretty. 

Once you see his reaction, you couldn’t help but giggle a little before turning back around to head to the sink. 

“You think I’m pretty?” He finally speaks up. 

“Of course,” you say, turning your head slightly with a small smile on your face, “you are my pretty boy afterall.” 

His heart skips multiple beats at your words. He put a hand on his chest, trying to calm down his heart. “You’re going to be the death of me…” He mutters. 

Of course you hear his words and laugh.

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: Escapades

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: everyone’s favorite grid family takes on their biggest challenge yet … an escape room

Series Masterlist

“Alright, who thought it would be a good idea to lock a bunch of F1 drivers in a room and expect them to work together to get out?” Charles grumbles, eyeing the cryptic clues scattered around the dimly lit space.

George smirks, picking up a coded message. “Well you’ve had plenty of practice trying to decipher Ferrari’s strategy lately, so maybe you’ve got an advantage here?”

The room erupts in laughter as Charles feigns a wounded expression. “Low blow, George! Do I not suffer enough already?”

Lando, fidgeting with what looks like an ancient artifact, suddenly blurts out, “Do you think this is like a button or something?” Before anyone can respond, there’s an audible snap and the artifact falls apart in his hands.

“Seriously, Lando?” Max exclaims, shaking his head in amusement. “First my trophy, now this? Hands off everything, please!”

You chuckle, patting Lando’s back consolingly. “It’s alright. Maybe breaking things is part of the puzzle?”

Lance, busy trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, adds, “At this rate, we’re never getting out of here.”

Mick, focusing on a puzzle piece, comments, “We’ve only got an hour, guys. Let’s get serious.”

Sebastian begins delegating. “Alright, George and Max, you handle the codes. Mick, Charles, focus on the physical puzzles. Lance, Lando — just ... try not to break anything else.”

As the room buzzes with activity, you can’t help but think that this is one of the best ideas you’ve had in a while. It’s hilarious watching these fiercely competitive drivers work together in a situation that doesn’t involve cars and tracks.

After a series of (mostly) successful problem-solving attempts, a loud buzzer sounds, indicating you’re out of time. The doors swing open, revealing a grinning staff member.

“You were only one clue away!” she exclaims, clapping. “Not bad for a first attempt!”

Max looks around the room, a smirk forming. “Well, if Lando didn’t break that artifact, maybe we would’ve made it.”

Lando throws his hands up defensively. “Hey! I added character to the room.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, making their way out. Another day, another adventure — this one off the track.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastian mutters, amusement evident in his eyes, as he steps into the living room. There are strings hanging from the ceiling, makeshift locks on the furniture, and “cryptic” clues pinned everywhere, like Look UNDER the couch, accompanied by a not-so-subtle arrow pointing downwards.

You, equally surprised and amused, chuckle. “What in the world happened here?”

Charles steps forward, barely containing his laughter. “Welcome to the Grand Prix Escape Room! Guaranteed to be at least 90% more escape-able than the one we failed at.”

George adds, pointing to a padlocked fridge, “I did the food clues. Trust me, they’re the most challenging.”

Max chimes in, “And Lando ... well, we didn’t let him touch anything breakable this time.”

Lando mock-pouts, “One little accident and suddenly I’m the family menace.”

Lance hands you a paper that reads The KEY to success is WHERE you eat BREAKFAST. He grins, “That’s my contribution. Top tier clue, right?”

Mick has a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I suggest you look in very obvious places. We wouldn’t want this to be too hard.”

As you and Sebastian navigate through the hilariously straightforward challenges — like the “hidden” key taped directly next to the padlocked fridge or the note on the oven saying THIS IS NOT A CLUE, just wanted to remind you we have pie — it becomes clear that this isn’t about the challenge at all.

It’s about laughter, family, and the simple joy of being together.

After an entertaining fifteen minutes, which involves Sebastian dramatically pretending to struggle with a code that's simply “1234,” you successfully escape.

Mick raises a toast with room temperature champagne (they forgot to place it in the fridge before it was padlocked), “To the greatest escape artists in the world!”

You laugh, “And to the best, most creative grid kids in the universe!”

***

You wake up to the soft chimes of your alarm, stretching lazily before noticing an envelope on your bedside table. Scrawled on it in mismatched rainbow crayons is Mission: Breakfast Heist.

Opening the note, you read:

Dear Y/N and Seb,

Your breakfast has been stolen! To get it back, follow the clues and embark on a thrilling adventure. Also, no cheating by ordering takeout!

The Breakfast Bandits (aka your grid kids)

Amused, you head downstairs, following a trail of strategically placed toast crumbs. In the kitchen, you find another note taped to the coffee machine: To get your morning brew, tell us a joke that’s new!

Sebastian, rubbing sleep from his eyes, joins you and declares, “Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged!” Mick appears from behind you, making both of you jump, and hands you two cups of coffee before backing away silently.

Chuckling, you move on to find that on the fridge, instead of a padlock, there’s a touchpad with a question on its digital display: What’s hot yet cool at the same time?

You ponder it for a moment, thinking of all the possible answers. Sebastian, catching on to the playful challenge set by the grid kids, smirks and says, “It’s the Iceman, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, with you playfully nudging Sebastian, “I always knew you thought Kimi was hot.”

Entering K-I-M-I on the touchpad, the fridge beeps in agreement and swings open, revealing a lavish breakfast spread and a note that reads: Breakfast is served! We might have kept it under lock and key but only to make it special. Enjoy!

From the doorway, the “Breakfast Bandits” applaud, their faces beaming with mischief.

Lance grins, “Took you long enough! And Seb, never knew you had a thing for Kimi.”

Charles joins in the teasing, “Seems like there are still some secrets in the paddock!”

Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes, “At least my secret doesn’t involve singing into a hairbrush every night before bed.”

Charles blushes as the room bursts into laughter. “Who told you about that?” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Lando, who’s trying hard (and failing miserably) to stifle his giggles.

Lando attempts to defend himself through his laughter, “It wasn’t me! But if we’re confessing, who knew that Seb’s haircare routine involved more products than all of ours combined?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Gotta keep the locks looking good, don’t I?”

Max interjects, “Well, if we’re on the topic of secrets, who wants to bet on how many stuffed animals Lando has on his bed?”

Lando gasps dramatically, “Betrayed by my own brothers! Next time, I’m hiding them all in George’s room!”

[elllisaaa]

enhypen as love songs

-> pairing : enha x fem!reader

-> words count : 3.8k words

-> genre : friends-to-lovers, strangers-to-lovers, established relationships, crush

-> warnings : self-depraciating thoughts, mentions of having difficult relationships

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | enha masterlist | 1k event masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

-> Brooklyn Baby by Lana Del Rey

"they say i’m too young to love you, i don’t know what i need, they think i don’t understand."

→ “- Are you really sure you want to move in with him ?”

That was the question everyone asked you when you announced that you and Heeseung were going to rent an apartment together. Your family was a little suspicious, and everyone thought that you were going to break up very soon after moving in together, that it wouldn’t last. 

“- Don’t you think we’re too young, Hee ?”

He looked down at you, wearing his shirt and nestled in his arms. Even if you had made that choice together, Heeseung had always been more straightforward, but he never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to. People always assumed that your relationship wouldn’t last, but seeing you so cozy in his arms, in your shared apartment, made him realize that everyone was wrong about the two of you.

“- No, for me everything is perfect. You’re perfect, and we’re doing perfectly fine.”

Heeseung caressed your cheek tenderly, the smile on your lips as you closed your eyes and kissed his knuckles telling him all the things you didn’t say.

“- Yeah, I think we’re perfect too.

- Then don’t worry about anyone else, yeah ? I love you.”

And he was right, because you’ve never felt better than when you came home to him and his warm smile cooking for you.

"and my boyfriend’s in a band, he plays guitar while i sing lou reed."

→ You had always been Heeseung’s number one supporter, always here to cheer him up, and even if he loved his fans, your encouragement and your presence was always what he looked up to when he was about to perform. 

“- Baby, do you think we could sing together one day ?”

You looked at him as if a third eye had suddenly popped on his forehead. He had a heavenly voice and he wanted you to sing with him ? The idea was almost laughable but you knew just by the look in his eyes that he was more than serious about the matter. 

“- I don’t know… You’re the expert, not me. But I do love when we’re doing our karaoke night, though…

- One day, I’m going to convince you and I’ll play that at our wedding.”

You slapped him for making you blush like that, and he only chuckled and pecked your lips because both of you knew that it wasn’t only a joke and that he was going to marry you for real one day. And you weren’t going to stop him.

PARK JONGSEONG

-> Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding 

"i’ll let you set the pace, ‘cause i’m not thinking straight, my head’s spinning around, i can’t see clear no more."

→ Jay had always been a true romantic, but he didn’t think that love at first sight was a thing until he met you. The moment your eyes crossed his, he knew it was you and nobody else that he wanted. Some of his friends had warned him that you had a reputation for being cold and not wanting to be in a relationship at all, but Jay didn’t care about all of that - he just wanted to be close to you.

“- I can stay or I can leave, you choose, but just know that I’m here for you, yeah ?”

That was why he told you so many times, all the times you were too lost to know what you were feeling. But slowly, you started to ask him to stay and hold you close rather than sending him away. And slowly, you warmed up to love again. Because you had never been cold, you’ve just been hurt and tried to protect yourself. 

“- I’m not going to ask you anything, we’re doing whatever you want. I would wait forever for you.

- I just want you. Is that too much to ask ?”

And it never was, because all Jay ever wanted was to be yours in the first place. He was happy every time he made you smile, and he was happy to see you open up to the world again. And he was even more happy that you’ll let him be by your side all the way. He just wanted to make you feel everything you made him feel - loved, cared for, adored. And he made sure to show you that everyday. 

"you’re the only thing i wanna touch, never knew that it could mean so much."

→ “- Was I too much at the start ?”

This was a question you often asked him, and the answer was always “no” for Jay. Every minute he spent helping you to realize your own value was worth it, and not only because you were his now, but because he would’ve been happy to see you being happy without him too. 

“- You’ve never been too much, princess, always perfect the way you are and were.

- You know I would not be the person I am without you, right ?

- It’s the same for me. You made me see so many things in a different way, I’m so grateful we found each other.”

And it was true. Sadness had invaded such a big part of your life for a moment, but it pushed you to admire art and music with another point of view that you shared with Jay. And it touched him, touched a part of his soul he thought had healed for a while. Sometimes, you were just looking at him and everything you felt was everything he felt too.

“- Me too, Jay. You’re the only one I’ll ever love.”

And with the way you were matching each other, there was no way this was not the truth. 

SIM JAEYUN

-> One Day by Tate McRae

"it’s impossible to get you off my mind, i think about a hundred thoughts and you are ninety-nine."

→ At first, you were only a girl he saw from time to time when he was ordering his coffee. You had a pretty smile, some pretty eyes and a pretty voice, but that was it. Or so Jake thought. Slowly, you invaded his whole mind, and he couldn’t spend a day without seeing your face when he closed his eyes. Everyone wondered why he started to drink so much coffee, and the only reason was you.

“- Hi ! Do you want your usual today ?”

Jake wanted to say something, but he found himself unable to open his mouth when you were smiling at him like that. So he only nodded and tried to remember the script he had prepared in his head for days. 

“- Can I ask you something, Y/N ?

- I guess you already did that, but go on.”

The determination and the courage he had when he entered the shop was already out of the window, but he really wanted to finally ask you out.

“- Do you think we could hang out sometimes ? If you don’t want to, it’s okay, I’m not gonna be weird or anything, but you’re really pretty, and you’re nice and I really like you. Please ?”

Jake could see your cheeks gradually becoming as red as his as you lowered your head. But you couldn’t say no to him, not when he was all you could think about all day too, not when you hoped it was him every time another customer entered. 

"one day, i’ll look into her eyes and say that “you’re my only light”."

→ Jake gladly spent months with you, simply hanging out and trying to not overstep. Despite the confident front you were wearing when you were serving your clients, he discovered a shy girl that had some trouble expressing her emotions. But that didn’t matter, because Jake was ready to do anything to make you believe that you were worth his time - something you were not ready to accept yet.

“- Do you want to come to the arcade with me and my friends tonight ? I really want you to meet them, they can be a little too much sometimes, but I think you’ll get along well.”

He felt your hesitation as you looked around and played with your own fingers - some gestures he learned to interpret with time.

“- I’m not sure, Jake. I don’t want to embarrass you. 

- You won’t embarrass me, pretty. You’re incredible, I’m sure they’re going to like you, and if they don’t then it’s their problem and I get to keep you all to myself.”

You chuckled and it was enough to make him smile too. He was ready to wait for years if it meant you would look at him like that in the end - with love in your eyes. That was all Jake wanted ; for you to realize that you were everything to some people, that you were everything to him. And one day, he would succeed. And one day, you will be his. You just had to discover yourself a little more, and he’ll be here for every little step you’d take.

PARK SUNGHOON

-> Love Me Right by Rendezvous At Two

"something about his love that’s driving me crazy."

�� Sunghoon didn’t understand what he felt for you at first. It was a strange mix of distrust and attraction. You were a new staff, but you already seemed so close to everyone else, it was suspicious right ? He tried to act unaffected by your kind words and your praises, but slowly, he started to warm up to you. How could he be so mean to someone who was honestly an angel ?

“- How are you doing today ? Did you eat and drink enough ?”

These were always the first questions you asked him everytime he sat down in your makeup chair. At first, Sunghoon always refused. But now, he accepted with a rather shy smile the snacks and energy drinks you offered to him every day.

“- I have some juicy things to tell you today, you’re lucky !”

And you were going on and on about what happened, about what he already knew because you had sent him a bunch of texts as soon as you could earlier that day. Because quickly, Sunghoon couldn’t detach himself from you anymore, he couldn’t let you go anymore and he just had to make you his. You often told him that he was driving you crazy with the way he acted sometimes, but it was only because you were too incredible for him to stay sensible whenever you were near him.

“- And that couldn’t wait until we’re home ?”

You stopped in your tracks and glared at him like he was crazy, but only his teasing smile answered you. And you couldn’t stop the smile spreading on your face too. He was really driving you crazy sometimes, but his love was all you needed. He was all you needed.

"no, you don’t ask, you don’t ask much of me, yeah, you just lovin’ me."

→ The one thing that often made Sunghoon anxious about your relationship was not even the risk of being discovered by his fans or the company, but that he wasn’t able to be with you as much as he wanted, that it might not be enough for you, that he might not love you enough. If it was only his choice, he would spend all his time with you, no questions asked. But he was busy, always traveling around the world, and you could not always come with him.

“- When are you coming back ? 

- On Friday. It’s only three days, darling.”

You nodded and kissed him again. You were used to seeing him leave, and you were not the one to ask him to stay, to make a scene. Sunghoon was made to be on stage, he literally glowed when he was dancing and singing, and you loved to witness that.

“- I know. But I’m gonna miss you anyway. Can’t I miss my boyfriend ?

- You can, that’s very much appreciated, actually.”

And this time, he was the one to kiss you, struggling to do so as both of you were smiling like fools in love. Because you were. You didn’t ask much from one another, you just needed each other and that was it. The purest form of love and that was all you needed to be happy. 

KIM SUNOO

-> Dandelions by Ruth B. 

"and i’ve heard of a love that comes once in a lifetime, and i’m pretty sure that you are that love of mine."

→ Sunoo always believed in soulmates, but he never thought it would happen to him one day. That was a beautiful thing that arrived to others but not to him. And he especially never thought that you would be his soulmate. 

“- Don’t be silly, we all knew that you would end up with her.”

That’s what his friends told him when he announced that you started going out together, though. Yes, you were his closest friend, but was it possible that he had been so blind and oblivious to his own feelings for so long ? When did he start really loving you ? But in the end, it made sense because you were the one he relied on, the one that had always been there for him and that will always be.

“- Baby, do you know where my moisturizer is ?”

Your voice echoed through your apartment, from the kitchen to the bathroom in which Sunoo was standing, in front of the mirror and trying to get through his night care routine.

“- In the first drawer, right by mine. I tried to organize everything a little bit better.”

And it was right where you had told him. Without really knowing why, it made Sunoo smile to see such a common product of yours sitting beside his. It was trivial, for sure, but it made him realize how perfect for him you were, because you had tidied up the drawers of the bathroom exactly like he would’ve done it himself. 

“- Thank you, baby. I love you.

- It’s just a moisturizer, Sunsun, it’s nothing.”

But for him, it was much more - like a physical proof that you were made for him, and that he was made for you.

"when you’re looking at me, i’ve never felt so alive and free."

→ Even if you had spent a good half of your life with Sunoo, you were still struck by his beauty sometimes. How was it possible for a human being to be so pretty, so angelic, so ethereal ? It was impossible that he could be yours, it felt so unrealistic you had to touch him to make sure it was not a dream sometimes. 

“- You’re so pretty, baby. I hope you know that.”

And everytime, his cheeks would turn all red, a pout on his lips because it was a crime to make him so flustered. 

“- Stop… You’re the prettiest here.

- No, no, no ! Don’t start again with that, just let me compliment you for once. Please ?”

Sunoo wasn’t able to look in the eyes as you showered him with praises, but he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face little by little. You always did that, always made sure that he knew how loved and appreciated he was. And not just by you, but by everyone else around him. He still remembered how you got all his friends to write him a letter for his birthday when you knew it was a rough time for him. He could never forget that.

“- You believe me now ? And you better say yes, because I could go on for hours.

- I know, baby. But tomorrow I’m the one taking care of you, okay ?”

You smiled at him and leaned down to kiss his lips, Sunoo still laying on your lap from his earlier nap. Even like that, he was so beautiful, inside and out. He made you feel so good about yourself, so it was your job to make him feel just as amazing. 

YANG JUNGWON

-> Apocalypse by Cigarette After Sex

"oh please, come out and haunt me, i know you want me."

→ Jungwon had always been adamant when it came to his career and dreams. He wanted to make it, and he will, there was no debate about that. And that also meant that he didn’t really let anything else into his life aside from his job, from his practice and from the friends he already had. But you were persistent, confident that you could lead him to open up to you. 

“- I hope you haven’t eaten yet, Wonnie because I brought you something !”

You always did that when you knew he had a bad day. With time, Jungwon learned that it was pointless to try and send you away because you would never let him alone until he didn’t eat what you brought him. He never talked, you had enough words for the two of you, but it was not a problem. At first, Jungwon found it almost annoying. But now, he loved the sound of your voice, and he missed it when he was alone in his bed at night.

“- Why do you keep doing that even if I’m insufferable to you ?”

You smiled at him and shrugged, trying to avoid the only question you didn’t really want to answer.

“- I guess that I’m an idiot and that I don’t know how to back up when it’s clear that someone doesn’t like me as much as I like them.

- You like me ?”

You giggled at the surprise you could see on his face. Was it really so shocking to learn when you spent all your free time worrying about him even when he was so distant ? 

“- I’m strange, I know.

- Then I must be strange too. Will you stop bringing me food if I ask you out ?”

Jungwon was always adamant on achieving his goals before allowing himself to be happy, but when it came to you, he lost all sense of reason. 

"your lips, my lips, apocalypse."

→ You never rushed anything when it came to your relationship with Jungwon. You let him go at his own pace, you let him move from one step to another as quickly or as slowly as he needed to. And that included your first kiss. You never asked him for a kiss, never even mentioned the possibility of kissing him for real. And that ended up making him anxious. Was it because he did something wrong ? It wasn’t possible that you’ll be this patient, this caring of his needs. 

“- Do you think I’m attractive ?”

The question took you off of guard, looking at him as if he had said something very dumb. Jungwon immediately felt stupid, because you always praised him about his looks, you wouldn’t have lied all this time.

“- Where is this coming from, Wonnie ? You know how handsome I think you are. What is really going on ?”

He chuckled only because you always seemed to know his thoughts better than himself. 

“- Then why did you not kiss me yet ?

- Because I want it to come from you, I don’t want to force anything on you. 

- If I asked you to kiss me right now, what would you do ?

- This.”

And you leaned in to peck his lips, and what Jungwon felt couldn’t be described with words, and he only had the reflex to close his eyes and savor the moment for as long as it lasted. So this what love felt like ? And Jungwon wanted to scold himself again for having pushed you back for so long if it was how your lips against his made him feel. He never wanted it to stop if it was what being loved by you meant. 

NISHIMURA RIKI

-> Run Into You by Clara Mae 

"i’m telling you, you’re my favorite, right now, i don’t care, no."

→ Being one of the youngest idols in the industry was not always easy for Riki. Sometimes, it felt too much. And often, he thought about giving up. But everytime he felt down, there was someone by his side to cheer him up, and most of the time, it was you. He felt closer to you because you were the same age, and you shared the same problems, the same worries, the same anguish.

“- Don’t you want to spend some time with your members too ? I feel like you’re always with me these days.”

Riki didn’t look at you, still focused on the comics he stole from you when he crashed your lunch break for the fifth time this week. You rarely had the time to have full meals, but you always packed more for him because you knew he had a tendency to ignore his own needs.

“- Why ? You’re tired of me ?

- Maybe.

- Don’t act like that, I know you can’t live without me, Y/N.”

And even if you had made him lunch, he still stole a piece of cucumber from your box. Like everyday, you childishly fought for some insignificant food. And like everyday, the best part of your lunch break was Riki's constant bantering and teasing. He always made your days brighter, and you always made sure to remind him with these little attentions. After all, he was your favorite. 

"running my mouth like i always do, but i wasn’t ready to run into you."

→ Riki was always teasing everyone around him, and it was actually a part of him that you liked. People around you often treated you like a child - it could be staff members or the other idols and trainees you met, it didn’t matter - but it never happened with him, he never considered you like that because you’ve gone through the same things. But that didn’t stop the both of you from doing stupid things sometimes. 

“- Do you think Jay hyung will ever know that you ate his cookies ?

- Nah, and even if he did, he has a soft spot for you. You should have accused Jungwon hyung, he would never even have been mad in the first place.”

You both laughed as you savored the cookies you had stolen from Riki’s member. His teasing never ended, but you didn’t care. It made you feel alive, it made you feel like your life was a little more normal. 

“- And do you think we would've met if we didn’t become idols ?”

Sometimes, he would ask you these types of serious questions out of the blue, and when you looked at him, he always seemed so sincere you couldn’t play it off like you usually did.

“- I hope so. I really like you Riki.”

And when you were honest with him, he always blushed and stuttered. It was cute, so you didn’t mind that he couldn’t find something to answer right away. Riki always had something clever to get you back, except when you said things like that. When you said things like that, it made his heart beat too fast, and he realized how pretty you were and how happy he was that he had indeed met you. And he also realized that he was ready to do anything to keep you from going too far away from him. After all, he liked you too.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Muddled Waters 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, blood, violence,, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your boss has a dangerous secret.

Character: Nick Fowler (mob au)

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved.

Your shift goes as usual. You make drinks to order and bring them out to the tables, or to set in the windows set into the walls of the private rooms. Those are for the more exclusive patrons, the ones who remain mostly faceless. The Sapphire is as close to a speakasy as you’d find in this century.

As you bring out a single scotch and place it on the ledge of the order window, a voice intone from the other side.

“Pardon me,” the English lilt wafts through, “your boss wouldn’t happen to be in house?”

You pull back your hand and consider the question. The customers in the rooms never talk to you. No thank yous, no pleases, no special orders. Those all come through the screen in the back which lists their demands; no olives, extra salt, double vodka...

“No, sir, I’m sorry, he’s not in,” you reply.

“Pity,” he remarks and a hand reaches to take the glass. “You will let him know I was here. In Room Four.”

“I’ll mention it. Would there be a name I should give him?”

“He will know,” he returns and footsteps scuff away from the window. Right.

You’re somewhat used to the cryptic. As nice as Nick can be, he isn’t always straightforward. The establishment does give you reason to bat an eye but for the most part, your pay stubs keep your gaze in the other direction.

You return to the kitchen and work at cleaning the used glasses brought by the singular busboy. You don’t know his name and he doesn’t talk. He always has earbuds in and only puts bins of dishes in the wash tray.

To say the operation is minimal is an understatement. Yet there is never more demand than you can meet. It makes you wonder how Nick breaks even with such a limited audience. Especially with the grade of ingredients he gets in. You never worked at a bar that didn’t water down their liquor now and again.

The night comes to an end and the lights dim as the bar closes up. The busboy clears the rooms and locks the front door. You leave the glasses in sparkling rows on the shelves and a bin of dishcloths to have washed the next day. You place away a few stray bottles then wipe down the counters.

“You’re here late,” Nick’s voice startles you and you hiss, looking up at him from the edge of your vision.

“Cleaning up,” you say and toss the cloth with the rest. “Just finishing now.”

“Mm,” he nods and hooks his thumbs in his belt loops, “you wouldn’t happen to have time to make me something, would ya? I’ll keep it simple.”

You withhold a sigh. Or maybe a yawn. Your eyes tingle and you shrug, “sure, what do you want?”

“Rye and coke,” he answers as he approaches the island and crosses his arms over the top, leaning on the stainless steel.

You swiftly gather everything you need and put together the simple drink. You set it before him and return all you disturbed back to its rightful place. You face him as he raises the glass and considers the dark elixir.

“Oh, er, someone asked for you,” you untie your apron and fold it over the bin meant for tomorrow’s laundry.

“Someone did? Was she pretty?” He winks.

You shake your head, “no. It was a man. He was in Room Four. That’s what he told me to tell you.”

“Room Four,” he repeats and puts the brim to his lips, taking a slow draw. His cheeks dimple before he pulls it away. “Noted.”

You nod at his strange reaction. Almost none at all. You check the time and drag your hands over your head.

“Well, I’m going to head home,” you say, “if that’s okay?”

“Quitting time,” he says coolly, his eyes stuck on the cabinet, a squiggle in his forehead. “Go on, get some sleep, sweetheart.”

“You too,” you shoot back. “Look like you need it.”

You pass him and he stands, turning to watch you, “hey, what does that mean?”

“Nothing, just... look tired.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he scoffs.

You go through to the backroom and grab your jacket and purse. It’s not really a strange night. A few out-of-the-ordinary occurrences, but nothing worrying. The man in Room Four and Nick’s late-night appearance; it’s not really a pattern.

You glance back at the kitchen door before you leave. You head out the back and walk down the next street. You approach your car parked by the curb, the rush hour jam keeping you from finding a closer spot. You take out your keys and they jangle loudly as your footsteps echo.

As you shove your keys into the slot, you’re suddenly taken off your feet, a blunt force jarring your wrist as your fingers catch in the keyring. You hit the ground with wheeze and roll across the stray pebbles as you hug your chest. You can’t breathe.

“Look, honey,” the British voice hisses through the night, “I didn’t wanna bring you into this but I needa send a message.” A figure straddles you on their knees, holding you down by your neck. “Not much, you’ll live...” you hear a metallic shing, “bit of blood is all.”

You feel a piercing pain just below your neck, right at the small dip of your collar bone. You cry out as the metal slices down your chest and easily through your shirt. Your skin parts with the fabric as you vibrate in agony.

“Get... off,” you cough out as you regain your breath. “Please...”

“Shh, honey,” he takes the knife away and smears his hand over your chest, your warm blood spreading under his rough palm, “I just want him to see you painted up nice for him.” He drags his hand over your face, the metallic scent staining your nose and lips. “Mm, you are a pretty thing, too.”

The man wiggles his hips lasciviously before he pushes himself off of you. He stands and you cover your ragged skin with your hands and whine, sobs rising from the pain hewn into your flesh. There’s a noise, something distant, maybe a door, and the man’s silhouette strolls off, whistling into the night.

Another set of footfalls approach you as you writhe on the ground. You don’t understand what happened. Why did that man do this to you? You can’t move. You can’t think. You just can’t.

The street light flickers as someone steps around the front of your car.

“Shit,” Nick rushes over and falls to his knees beside you, “shit, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have let you come out here alone. I shoulda knew...”

“Why?” You babble as your blood seeps between your fingers, “why, Nick?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and bawl. He slides his arms under you and lifts you as you exclaim. He hushes you as he holds you against his chest.

“It hurts,” you whimper.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he rasps, “I got you.”

[kikyoupdates]

Girlfriend-For-Hire ⭑˚🦋⭑ 𝟶𝟺

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship.

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Some total stranger is glaring at you as if you’ve just committed mass murder.

For obvious reasons, it’s a bit uncalled for. Here you were, minding your business and enjoying your coffee, and now, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of a messy altercation. 

“Who the fuck is she?” Nadia demands. She basically spits the words, as if the mere act of acknowledging your existence fills her with disgust. 

You’re too taken aback to respond. Callum still refuses to let go of you. In fact, he squeezes you even tighter, lips spreading into a wide grin as he utters his next words. 

“Oh, her?” Callum hums, mischief and delight seeping into his voice. “Nobody, really. Just my new girlfriend.” 

I’m sorry, what?  

Your jaw drops open, but before you can even dispute his claim, Nadia makes her thoughts on the matter abundantly clear. 

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” 

She outright screams. It’s loud and shrill, and you involuntarily wince—especially since several people turn their heads to find out what the hell is going on. 

You are both shocked and mortified. Even though you haven’t yet gotten all the details, it’s obvious that Nadia doesn’t like the thought of you dating Callum. But you’re not even actually dating him, so surely once you clear up the misunderstanding, she’ll cool off, right? 

“He doesn’t mean that,” you hurry to protest. “I think he’s just messing with both of us, because—” 

“Was I talking to you, bitch?” Nadia sneers. 

Oh. 

Well, okay, then. 

You visibly deflate. It’s safe to say you weren’t expecting something like this. You’re not the most confrontational person to begin with, and even though you’d like nothing more than to tell her off, her sharp tongue deters you from trying again. 

But thankfully, Callum decides to end your suffering. 

“Whoa, chill, Nadia,” he scoffs, half-chuckling. “It was a joke, for fuck’s sake. She’s just my friend. She was obviously trying to correct you just now, but you didn’t want to hear her out. Goddamn.”

Nadia’s eyes widen, and her face turns red from shame. You hate to admit it, but after how she viciously lashed out at you, her embarrassment is a welcome sight. 

So, it looks like Callum was only joking around. Still, though. 

As far as jokes go, this one was remarkably shitty. 

“We’re seriously just friends,” Callum repeats, and much to your relief, he finally lets go of you. Then, there’s a glint of amusement in his pale eyes. “But why does it even matter? So what if I end up dating someone else? You’re the one who broke up with me. Did you already forget?” 

Holy shit. This situation is just getting more uncomfortable by the second. You honestly want to dig a hole in the ground and hide in it until this is over. 

Also, you now have a pretty good idea as to why Callum hired you.

“I’ve never seen you hang out with her even once in my entire life,” Nadia scowls. “This is why you’re an asshole. We’ve barely been broken up for a few days, and you’ve already found a rebound. It’s fucking disgusting.”

Callum blinks disinterestedly. “Can you chill out already? I already told you we’re just friends. Ask her if you don’t believe me. Besides, do you really think you know every single person I’m friends with? I’m allowed to have my own social life, you know.” 

“Oh, so you’ve been hiding the fact that you’re this close to another girl, even while we were dating? Congratulations, you basically just admitted to cheating on me.” 

You’re convinced that death would be a more merciful punishment than having to sit through the rest of this. 

“Fucking hell,” Callum sighs. He nudges you on the arm. “Hey, can you believe this shit? She’s crazy, am I right? Even though we’re broken up, she’s still acting like she owns my ass.” 

“Eat a dick, Callum,” Nadia spits. 

“But isn’t that your job?” he muses. 

“Ugh!” she screams again. “I can’t fucking stand you!” 

Just like that, she storms off, and honestly? Good riddance. You’re not sure how much more secondhand embarrassment you could have possibly stomached. 

Now that she’s gone, you can finally breathe normally again. But it’s not as if everything is just fine and dandy, and you turn towards Callum with a look of frustration. 

“What happened to only being your friend?” you ask exasperatedly. “I thought we agreed on those terms beforehand.” 

“But I told her right away that I was just joking. And I promised not to tell anyone else we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to see how she would react.” 

You frown. Granted, he didn’t try to deceive her for very long, but the whole thing still makes you feel rather icky. 

Even though you already know the answer to your question, you decide to ask it anyways. 

“So… she’s your ex-girlfriend?” you clarify.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” Callum takes a sip of his coffee, then lets out a heavy sigh. “She’s fucking crazy is what she is. But I figured she would act like that. Even though she’s the one who broke up with me, she still has the nerve to get jealous and possessive. I’m sorry she was so rude to you, though. I wasn’t trying to make you her target. I figured she would only bitch me out.” 

It was definitely off-putting, to say the least, but setting Nadia’s behavior aside for the moment, you need to get to the bottom of this. 

“Am I right in assuming that you deliberately sat outside the store so that she would see us together?” you ask. 

Callum blinks a few times, and after a brief pause, he smiles. 

“I guess you’re not the type who can easily be fooled, huh? Yeah, I’ll own up to it. I know her class schedule, and she always swings by to get coffee at this hour. I was curious to see how she’d act when she saw me with another girl.” 

You had a feeling that might be the case. Which means he used you to try and make his ex-girlfriend jealous. 

You don’t really like the sound of that. 

“Was it a bad breakup?” you ask. “If you’re going out of your way to try and make her feel jealous, I’m guessing it can’t have ended on amicable terms.” 

Callum shrugs. “No worse than all the other times she broke up with me before.” 

“...I’m sorry?” 

“She does this constantly,” he says, rolling his eyes in annoyance. “I don’t know what her problem is, but she always finds something else to bitch about, and she catches me off-guard every single time. The day will be going perfectly fine, then bam—she breaks up with me again. I guess I’m starting to get pretty fed up, so I figured a bit of jealousy would make her rethink her choices.” 

You shift uncomfortably. “Uh… but wouldn’t it be better to just move on? I don’t think trying to make her feel bad is a good use of your time. It sounds exhausting. She clearly doesn’t appreciate you, so maybe you should stop giving her so many second chances.” 

“What do you mean? We’re going to get back together,” he blinks. “I doubt it’ll even take that long. A few weeks at most. I just want her to think twice about it the next time she considers breaking up with me. If she sees me hanging around you a lot, even if we’re just friends, she’ll get insecure and come back to me. She’s probably already worried that you’re going to steal me away from her.” 

“You… want to get back with her?” you gape. “But why? It doesn’t sound like either of you is happy. I realize it’s not really my business, but objectively speaking, I don’t think a relationship where you’re constantly being broken up with is in any way healthy.” 

Callum chuckles. “Don’t worry, I know.” 

“You do?” 

“Mhm. People would call what we have a toxic relationship, right?” 

You nod weakly. It sounds like he has some self-awareness, yet in spite of that, he’s actively embracing this kind of self-destructive behavior. 

Honestly, you’re not sure whether to be appalled or impressed. 

“Some people just end up together, one way or another,” he shrugs. “That’s what me and Nadia are like. We make each other crazy, but we’re still the only right match for one another. You get what I mean?” 

No. Not even a little bit. 

It’s not your place to comment on someone else’s relationship. You know that, despite all the red flags that both of them are clearly giving off. It really, really doesn’t seem like they’re happy, but they’re grown adults, at the end of the day. If they want to be together, it’s their decision to make. 

“Anyways, I just wanted to see how she’d react to hearing I had a new girlfriend, but I promise I won’t make jokes like that anymore,” Callum reassures. “All I want is for you to keep hanging out with me as a friend, so that Nadia finally gets her shit together. I don’t expect you to do anything special. Just spend time with me so that she sees us, and that’s more than enough.” 

“Do you really think she’ll want to get back with you?” you ask unsurely. “Because this might just have the opposite effect. You could end up really pissing her off and pushing her further away. I don’t know if jealousy is ever the right solution.”

“Don’t worry,” he muses. “I know Nadia, which is why I can predict exactly how this will go. All this breaking up has gotten really annoying, so I want her to realize that I’m a catch, and that if she keeps playing games, one day I might just leave her for someone else.” 

As far as you’re concerned, someone who chooses to torment their significant other instead of being compassionate and honest with them is hardly a catch. You suppose that goes for both of them, though. God. Their relationship sounds like an absolute fucking nightmare.

Still, you take a moment to assess your options. It’s true that this situation is wildly uncomfortable, but in terms of the actual job, you won’t be expected to do much. Callum has promised not to lie about you being his girlfriend again (and seriously, one more strike and he’s out), which means all you have to do is hang out with him sometimes. Of course, all of this is being done with the intention of making Nadia jealous, and while she certainly doesn’t seem like the nicest person, it still makes you feel a bit guilty. 

“I’m not sure about this,” you admit. “I’m not going to judge you, because everyone has their own stuff going on, and every relationship is different, but you’d essentially be paying me to try and make someone else feel shitty.” 

“Not shitty,” he corrects. “Jealous.” 

“Jealousy is just another variation of shitty.” 

“But it’s not like I’m doing this for fun,” he insists, even though the shit-eating grin he had earlier would suggest otherwise. “I want to put an end to her bullshit. Maybe she’ll finally mature a bit and start treating me better. It’ll be a wake-up call. So, don’t think of it as making Nadia feel bad, but think of it as helping fix a relationship.”

He smiles brightly, but after the horrible exchange you just witnessed, you have serious doubts that their relationship can ever be fixed. 

As always, your strong sense of morality poses an issue. But maybe it’s like Ava says, and you need to stop worrying about everyone else and just focus on yourself for a change. No matter what advice you try to give him, Callum is determined to get back with Nadia. He’ll do whatever it takes to make it possible, with or without your involvement.

It’s just hanging out as friends. Ultimately, that’s all you’re doing. You’re not going to be cruel to Nadia, or even antagonize her. You’ll just mind your own business and be a good sport. Whatever happens happens. 

Everyone makes a living one way or another, so why should you feel ashamed about how you make yours? 

“Fine,” you concede, and Callum perks up immediately, just short of letting out a cheer. “But like we agreed on before, we’re just hanging out as friends. You’re not allowed to lie to people and tell them I’m your girlfriend. I get that earlier was just a joke, but if it happens again, I’m not going to keep doing this. Alright?” 

“That sounds totally fair,” he agrees. 

“Okay. Then I guess I’m on board. I hope whatever’s going on with you two, it all works out in the end.”

Callum turns away from you.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles, staring dead-eyed off into space. “I’ll make sure it does.” 

Since Callum already paid for your time today, you spent the rest of it by finishing up your coffee and grabbing a bite to eat. You took your meals to-go and sat down in the grass, enjoying the sunshine. It was kind of fun, you have to admit. Like a little picnic. 

You’re not quite sure what to make of Callum. He deceived you, admittedly, but he’s been pretty transparent from that moment onwards. He said he wasn’t really sure how to breach the topic of making his ex jealous over the app, and figured it would be better explained in person. To some extent, that is true, but you still wish he would have been fully honest from the start. 

But all in all, there’s not much room for confusion. Your job is incredibly simple—you just have to spend time with him every now and then, ideally in places where Nadia can see the two of you together publicly, and you’ll be paid for it. 

Perhaps the twinge of guilt you feel is necessary, because without it, you pretty much are getting paid to do basically nothing.

Well, you can’t really complain. Most people in your position probably wouldn’t either.

“Damn, time to go already?” Callum whines. “That sucks. I was hoping we could hang out some more. But I guess we both have classes now.” 

“It’s not like we won’t be seeing each other again. But yeah, this was fun. Apart from when your ex-girlfriend called me a bitch,” you add.

“Sorry again about that. She’s batshit insane.” 

Thus far, you have yet to hear him say a single positive thing about Nadia, and based on what you saw, she didn’t have particularly glowing reviews of him either. 

If that’s how they treat each other when people are watching, what kind of things must they say when no one else is around? 

You shudder at the thought.

But whatever. As far as friends go, Callum is chill, and it’s to know that he’s not expecting anything more. Setting aside his relationship problems, he seems like a pretty fun, easygoing guy.

“Do you go to parties on campus?” Callum asks. He stands up from the grass and dusts his pants off. “I was thinking that’d be a great place for us to hang out. Nadia will either be there, or she’ll hear that we were together from one of her nosy friends. Plus, I can introduce you to some cool guys I know. A couple of them are single, if you’re interested. Oh, but would you even be okay to date? Since you’re doing this job and all.”

“Probably not,” you admit. “I doubt my partner would feel comfortable knowing that I’m pretending to be someone else’s girlfriend. Once I get into a relationship, I won’t be doing this anymore. But it’s fine, since I’m not really looking to date right now. I just wanted to try something new.” 

“Well, you must be doing a good job, because it says you’ve got a five-star rating,” Callum grins, holding up his phone.

You blush. “Um… thanks. I’ve only had one other client so far, but he seemed happy, so I guess there’s that.”

“I’m guessing you actually pretended to be his girlfriend? What was that like?” 

“It was fine. I can’t get into personal details, but he had some family-related issues, and it seemed like having me around helped.” 

“That’s nice. I wasn’t sure what to think of this app at the start, but I’d say it worked out for the best. I can see us being actual friends, to be honest.” 

“But when you eventually get back with your ex, won’t that complicate things? Because I’m pretty sure she already hates my guts.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

Looks like he didn’t think things through that far, and it’s kind of cute how disappointed he seems all of a sudden. He’s actually pouting.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “Nadia will calm down at some point. Probably.” 

I highly doubt that.

For obvious reasons, it seems like your friendship with Callum is already destined to be short-lived, but it’s fine. You’ll enjoy it while it lasts. You have to admit, it does feel good putting yourself out there every now and then. You should thank Ava for helping you work up the nerve in the first place.

“I’m headed that way,” you point, “so it looks like we’re splitting up here. But it was nice getting to know you. I had fun, and I hope you did too.” 

“Sure did,” Callum hums. “Hold up one second. I’ll transfer the money right now.” 

You receive your payment, which concludes yet another job. Although this job has technically just started. You wonder how long it’ll take for Nadia to get back with him. Callum sounds awfully confident about it, but you’re not so sure. 

You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see. 

“Bye, [Name],” Callum waves. “See you soon!”

“See you around,” you nod, and soon enough, you both go your separate ways. 

It’s actually a good thing you got to chill with Callum for a bit, because unfortunately, you’re about to head into your absolute least favorite class. The professor is a real hard-ass and does a terrible job of teaching the course content, not to mention how difficult his assignments are. Everyone taking the class is miserable, and it shows. 

When you step inside the lecture hall, however, the atmosphere feels especially depressing. 

“Take your seats,” the professor barks. You’re one of the last few to enter the room, and you hurry towards the closest unoccupied spot. 

It doesn’t take long to figure out why everyone looks like they want to die. 

“I want to hurry up and get started with this, because it’s going to take up a lot of time,” the professor says. He paces back and forth, and your eyes widen as you finally take note of the powerpoint being displayed on the projection screen.

Oh, please no. Don’t do this to us. 

“I’m assigning a project that will make up a big chunk of your final grade,” he goes on to state. “I have already paired students up, so no, you will not be allowed to work with a friend. Each pair has also been assigned a research project at random. I’ve found that it’s far too difficult to make everyone happy, and the process of approving project ideas is a pain in itself, so you will be given pre-approved topics and they are not subject to change.” 

For fuck’s sake. Not only are you not allowed to pick partners, but you don’t even get to pick your own research topic either? You can already tell this is going to massively suck ass.

The professor changes the powerpoint slide, then gestures towards the screen. “There you go. Take a good look, because I’ve listed everyone’s partners up there, as well as what topic you’ve been assigned. Like I said, this is going to be a very demanding project worth a lot of your grade, so it’s in your best interest to get started as soon as possible. You will not be able to finish in time if you leave it until the last minute.” 

You sigh tiredly. People are letting out quiet, resigned groans left and right. By the looks of things, no one’s gotten lucky enough to be paired up with a friend. The professor probably went out of his way to pair up people who don’t normally sit next to each other in class. 

Anyways, it sounds like you’ll be working with some guy named Theo. Needless to say, you have no clue who he is, since you hardly interact with anyone in this class. You’re too busy trying to keep up with the ridiculous workload. 

Also, is it just your imagination, or did you somehow end up with what sounds like the hardest topic of all? 

Knowing your luck, it probably is. 

“Take a moment to get acquainted with your partner,” the professor instructs. “I’ll give everyone some time to exchange contact information and whatever else is necessary. But move quickly, because I’d like to move onto explaining the project outline. Let’s not drag our feet, people.” 

The whole class collectively groans again, and after a moment’s delay, everyone stands up from their seats and moves around the room trying to figure out who they’ve ended up with. 

“I’m looking for Theo,” you call out, raising your hand to be better seen. “Does anyone know who Theo is?” 

No one responds. It looks like some of the other students, the more vocal ones, have already found their partners, but yours seems to be nowhere in sight. 

Balls. Is he absent today? That would make things a hell of a lot more troublesome.

You keep calling out his name, and slowly but surely, the crowd of students begins to dwindle. Having met up with their partners, students sit down and start getting acquainted. 

Just as you’re about to give up, someone approaches you from behind. 

“Um… excuse me. S-Sorry. I’m… Theo.” 

You turn around to face your partner, who regretfully, seems to be making a conscious effort not to look you in the eye. 

“Oh, you’re Theo?” you say, offering a quick smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m [Name]. Is it just me, or does our research topic sound like it’s going to be a massive pain?”

Theo doesn’t answer. He barely even gives a begrudging nod, then without further explanation, walks away from you and sits down.

This is already off to a great start. 

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[itsgrimeytime]

The Nurse (Part Six) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Part One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Taglist: @strnqer @1985bitch @curlycarley @imaginemyfavoritefics @t-uroboros @crazytxgradstudent @addisonnie @whos6claire @taylvvrr @quicksilversg1rl @catt-leya @1tsk1tty @pascalshearts @hopefulatrocity @xoyouronlyamorrxo @fuseburner @idkseraphine @all-for-kpop @carlgrimeskisser @emo-potato-virgil @timotheesrealgf @mcuclintasha

Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You’d always wondered where he’d ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.

TWS: Blood, gore, mentions of death, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, angst, angsty!Rick, jealousy, and all things typical of TWD.

[[A/N: I listened to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron to write this, so... I think you can assume how this vibes. You simply have this man WHIPPED, I will not take any further questions. Thanks for reading :)) ]]

Your eyes were hazy, something warm coming across your skin, as you followed the empty hallways. Well, not empty.

Rick was there, Judith carefully held in his arms -every once in a while, he'd lean down to kiss her forehead. The casual affection took you somewhere else for a moment, like watching your grandparents in the kitchen just so natural in each other's spaces -so domestic. When you were younger, reading books about extravagance -big gestures and life-threatening situations, your mind had settled on the balance of fairytales.

Who wished for a lackluster ending? Who wanted to dance in the kitchen too early in the morning, instead of the adventure of a lifetime? It hadn't made sense then.

But watching him now, gentle and bouncing around the room, you'd realized somewhere deep within yourself... maybe you had.

The idea of a home, where the sun seeped through curtains and the smell of breakfast wavered out through the air. Smiles, and playgrounds. Movie nights, and the whispers of promises of forever.

Your brain fogged, and you blinked to try to clear your head. Even just for a solid second, you still found Rick in your eyesight. And maybe he was dusted in dirt, and his hair wasn't washed, but the idea with him made much more sense. You just couldn't chance the thought, not in this world.

"You're drooling."

Clearing your throat, you turned to the intruder -Michonne, her smile small but still enough, "Very funny."

She paused, eyes focused on you for a second -like she could tell you were off. Straightening in her seat, she fully faced you -concern furrowed in her brow, "You okay?"

"Yeah," you echoed, eyes drifting to the pair - imagining the warm glow of a kitchen instead of the cold prison walls, "-just thinking about what I'm missing, you know?"

Michonne turned back to the two, "Yeah, I know."

"Can you imagine your own backyard?" you retorted, in disbelief with a laugh aired in your tone.

"My own house," she hummed, eyes flicking to the ceiling instead, "-I think I'd have a dog."

"Sometimes," you took the edge of your shirt in between your fingers -the material soft to the touch, "-I think about what curtains I would have. Isn't that stupid?"

"No," she answered -simply.

Michonne was direct like that, her answers straightforward and steady; sometimes, you doubted she'd ever really been insecure about an idea. She seemed so confident, you never thought to go against her. You didn't know her past, but it was hard to imagine anything breaking through that resolve.

You pursed your lips, turning back to the two -he was smiling now, the crinkle by his eyes so prominent as he looked down at Judith. It was so unabashedly bright; despite his whole world crumbling, he'd still lit up your corner of the world. And maybe you were a little biased, but you thought it'd be a tragedy if it went dark again.

"You should tell him," Michonne spoke, unflinchingly as if she'd read your mind.

You whispered, a breath across the room -you'd never named it, "Tell him what?"

She placed a hand on your shoulder, a gentle pressure that guided your eyes to meet hers. Her eyes leveled with yours, the look was easy to read despite the schooled expression -she knew, and so did you. You often wondered how many could see it in you, you knew it was obvious -the gazes searching to find his first, the stares lasting just a touch too long, smiling when he did.

"I think you know."

And you did.

You just weren't sure of much, you weren't sure if this world could be... loved. Could anyone in this world love or be loved? Despite what you felt, deep in your heart, you still weren't sure. Was it even possible for it to work? With everything else so harsh and direct, how could you even begin to-

"Plus," Michonne interrupted, a smile biting at her lips, "-you could do worse."

You laughed, leaning your head back to the sky -the thoughts fleeing from your mind like leaves in the wind, "I could."

When you leveled your head, your eyes connected with something new -Rick was looking at you. Bright blue followed the movement of your face, your lips quirked into a smile and you raised a hand to wave. Trying to avoid the warmth that swirled up in your stomach and the very real feeling of 'I told you so' radiating from Michonne just beside you, you pushed forward.

And there it was, the bright smile you'd seen just moments before except this time, it was directed to you. In a spare second, he pulled Judith's little arm up and waved back -gentle movements, but the notion there stayed the same.

Laughter took the place of a response, and you couldn't quite get your brain to form anything else -it was so fuzzy with memories you hadn't made yet, but you wanted to. Eventually.

Your eyes flickered to the sky, it had to be midday at this point -just as it began to cool off in the day. With daylight flickering, you had someplace to be.

"Alright," you hummed pulling yourself into gear, "-I can only handle so much of Rick Grimes a day."

Michonne laughed, "Liar."

You snorted, walking out into the day -eyes searching for a particular person. It had started about a month ago when you and Daryl had formed a bet. He'd said something about your choice of a weapon, and you'd said something about his.

"Bet if we switched, I could kill more walkers than ya."

"You are so on."

So, with some new rules in place, Daryl had sworn on the blue sky that he'd teach you how to use a bow. Wasn't fair if you didn't know how, so it was a necessary step.

Your weapon wasn't as... complex. So, the opposite wasn't really necessary.

You eyes caught him in the field, where he stood across from a... what the hell is that?

There's was a tall branch, sticking up from the ground with burlap sacks and hay sticking out -instead of good seams and crisp corners, however, this was not quite a masterpiece.

You burst into laughter, eyes following the desperately tied rope and hay poking out of corners. It truly looked like a nightmare, but on the area where a "face" might be was detailed of an eyepatch and angry eyebrows.

"Really?" You yelled across the grass, as Daryl spun to you -shrugging as if he hadn't put any time into making... that.

Ranging closer, you extended your hand toward the character, you'd say for now, "I didn't know you were into arts and crafts!"

"Keep laughin'-" Daryl rolled his eyes, not quite responding to you as he loaded up his arrow -tone solid, but you could tell he was light.

Daryl was something you had to get used to, something you had to learn. He was a bit of an icy mystery to any outsiders, but you knew he cared an awful lot more than anyone claimed to.

"Maybe I will," you quipped, "-we ready?"

"Yea," he stood off the ground, brushing dirt off his pants, "-we're losing daylight, gotta start soon anyway."

He was surprisingly attentive, slowly doing each step at your pace -it was an air the man hadn't exposed to you yet. Kind and gentle. He was a great teacher, to your benefit.

Watching as he seemingly without a flinch, landed an arrow into the... target. Right on the eyepatch, and if you took out a ruler probably in the perfect middle. Why did you take this bet again?

Then the weapon was in your hands, the arrow already in, and just awaiting your next move. Trying to remember the steps, Daryl guided your hands to the right position and pulled back your shoulders -there was a proper posture, but you doubted he used it.

That was when a new voice presented itself, just as Daryl adjusted your grip on the bow, tilting the tip down a touch -assumingly something was wrong in your technique.

"What are y'all doing?"

You knew that drawl. He was always an echo in your brain, words bouncing around in your head -he'd stuck with you in so many different ways.

You spun around -eyes finding him with ease, "Hey, cowboy! I could ask you the same question."

Daryl hadn't said anything yet, his mouth in a stubbornly straight line and that was odd for him. Especially when talking to Rick. But then you looked at him, Judith wasn't in his arms anymore.

His flannel was rolled up his arms, and his eyes laid intently on the hand that Daryl had wrapped around your wrist to push down the bow. It was still connected there, passively, like he was waiting to take the weapon out of your hand. You hadn't minded, it was completely like a guiding hand really, nothing else.

Rick pursed his lips, something set in his jaw, "Right."

You furrowed your brow, quickly gesturing the bow to Daryl -which he with ease accepted. He knew something more than you, you could tell in the way that their eyes flicked to each other, heavy and filled with something you couldn't really read. The air stilled and brushed across your skin like a harsh gust of wind.

"Why? Is everything alright?" you asked, concern turning over in your tone. You'd always assumed the worse -especially as one of the sole medical professionals, you knew you shouldn't have gone so far out-

"What? Oh yes," he seemed to blink, facing you again -all the tension in his face seemed to melt and his hand went to rest on your shoulder, "-nothin' to worry about."

You exhaled, shaking the buzzing under your skin out as much as you could, "Okay, good."

He smiled at you, but it wasn't all there. Something was wrong, you knew it, but it apparently wasn't an emergency? Did he need to talk to you? Was he okay?

"I was just teachin' 'em how to use the bow," Daryl echoed, tone solid and seeming to address something you hadn't noticed -talking directly to Rick, "-nothin' else."

You quirked your brow, genuinely confused by the shift in the energy, "What else would we be doing?"

Rick's eyes flickered to you, where you now stood -kind of puzzled and a bit tense in the newfound energy you found yourself in. He sighed, running his other hand through his hair -you knew that was a sign.

"'Course," he hummed, his voice a little less restrained, but still not quite... Rick, "-it's for that bet you two have, right? Sorry for interrupting, just..."

He looked at Daryl -eyes unbreaking, and intense.

"Curious," he finished, eyes connecting to yours for a few seconds longer than you expected -then flicked back to the ground like he'd been embarrassed...? His hand carefully, hesitantly, drifted off your shoulder.

Before you could even open your mouth, the man cleared his throat and turned back around the way he came.

"Daryl-" you began, turning back to the other man. You weren't sure what that was, but you weren't going to just leave it like that.

"Go," he hummed, unbothered, as he carefully plucked a few arrows off the ground, "-I'm not as stupid as you think."

You rolled your eyes, relaying to comment on that later in the back of your head and trailing after Rick. He was actually pretty quick, despite the unfavorable footwear, but you somehow managed to catch up.

"Rick," you spoke, tone direct and stressed out into the meadow air.

He stopped in his place, a bit stunned it seemed, as he stood still. There was definitely something wrong, you could feel it. In a breath, you wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling it to you behind him. He still hadn't faced you -facing straight ahead with air to him you'd only seen once or twice in your time knowing him.

"Are you alright?"

Rick didn't respond immediately, stance shock still. You watched as his shoulders huffed out breaths, the smallest rise and fall being the only thing you could focus on. His wrist was warm in your hand, and you felt your fingers rubbing gentle circles into the skin there -in an effort to soothe something you didn't know the root cause of.

His eyes flicked back to you, much softer and something more familiar to you -shining in a haze you couldn't identify, but had experienced yourself. (Merely hours before actually.) They flicked to your hand and then your face, almost in realization that you had made that point of contact.

"Shit, sorry," you pulled your hand back, tone a bit rambly, "-I didn't know if you were comfortable with that, I should've ask-"

"No, no," he echoed, pulling your hand back just to match it with his -intertwining your fingers, "-it's fine, better than fine. I am."

"Oh," you swallowed, watching now as he faced you -his own thumb cradling against the back of your hand that sent your brain into a bit of a fog, "-okay."

Rick grinned the kind that crinkled at his eyes then.

"I-" you began, suddenly remembering what you'd run after him for -blinking the fuzz out of your brain, "-you still didn't answer my question, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah-" he enunciated, eyes hanging on your hands for a second, "-I'm good, promise."

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Great, even," he responded, thumb dancing against your skin and your brain almost flatlined again.

"Then," you pursed your lips, "-what was that back there?"

"Nothing," he answered back, a little too quickly for your taste, "-just curious."

"Rick-" you started, before locking onto the way he held your hand. It was the same one that Daryl had been holding just a second earlier, and your mind lit up with the flicking of his eyes to the touch, the set of his jaw, some internal dialogue between the two... oh my god.

He seemed to notice the difference in you, his own eyebrows raising in response to your change in demeanor.

"Cowboy," you hummed, daring only to look at your intertwined hands, "-were you jealous?"

Rick stilled in his place, the thumb frozen in its cycle and the breath caught in his throat. You could practically see the thumping of his heart in his chest, watching as the pink flooded up his neck -he totally was.

"Rick," you added, a little in disbelief.

He hummed, seeming to be unable to speak and his eyes lazily focused on your intertwined fingers. You found it kinda cute, actually.

"Rick," you continued, "-look at me."

He sighed, deep in his chest, the curls at the nape of his neck catching the sunlight just right. He looked pretty like this, like a painting. And finally tilted his face to meet yours -fingers squeezing your hand and thumb rubbing against your skin, his eyes were a bit distant then.

You reached your other hand up to the side of his face, trailing your fingertips along his cheekbone -the cut that you'd once been drawn to now under your fingertips, "There you are."

His breath hitched, as you brushed a few stray curls back behind his ears and let your hand rest against his skin for a few seconds longer. You could feel the heat bubble up there, as you focused your attention there -trailing along the now scab and up along the crinkling near his eyes. You smoothed them out with a few timid presses of your skin to his; it seemed so natural, so familiar.

Rick seemed in a trance almost, eyes dipping down to yours without much thought, like a sort of bliss. You wondered how long it had been since he had his face cradled like this, how long he'd missed the gentle brush of fingertips. Even just for a brush of contact, he seemed unable to speak, the air heavier in between the space than you'd known it to be before.

"Trust me when I say," you hummed, eyes straight into his -unflinchingly, "-you have nothing to worry about."

You noted somewhere deep in your head to do little things more, as you leaned back -pulling back your hand to your side but keeping the other one steady in his. Rick still stayed silent, eyes wistfully watching you fall back into your own space; he'd looked a bit conflicted. So calm and breathing peacefully, all the while his heart seemed to beat 100 miles an hour out of his chest.

Definitely cute, you decided.

"With that out of the way," you cleared your throat like you hadn't just crossed millions of boundaries that you'd established with him, "-I think you have some plans to make. You ruined mine, after all. It's only fair."

He laughed, eyes hooked on your hand in his and it was different then, you could feel it in the buzz of the air, "It's only fair."

[callsign-rogueone]

nothing burns like the cold - r.g.

what's supposed to be an ordinary afternoon sparring with your friend goes wrong in an unexpected way. words: 1.4k 🏷: one incredibly mild Iron Flame spoiler (Ridoc's signet), she/her reader, very brief description of friendly sparring, no real physical injury, nothing too bad... both of you have Feelings and need to talk about them, Ridoc being sad deserves it's own warning, wingwoman Violet to the rescue! this can be read as a standalone or you can consider it a way-back prequel to hey roomie, my poly Ridoc/Sawyer/reader fic (more of that trio coming soon, by the way!)

Ridoc’s fist lands against your ribs, and you don’t know how to describe what happens, other than cold. Coldest shower of your life, bucket of ice water over your head, jumped into the river in late December cold, that shocks your senses and has you crumpling to the mat beneath you.

Your friends gasp, at your side in an instant.

You’re indoors, but your shirt is soaked like you’ve been out in the rain for twenty minutes, and your hair is dusted with… snow? You blink the wet flakes from your eyelashes, stunned.

Rhiannon helps you to your feet, and you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering.

Sawyer removes his flight jacket, draping it over your shoulders. The fabric is warm with his body heat, but it doesn’t do much to fight the chill you feel around your heart; the way the wet material of your clothes clings to your skin.

“I’m so sorry,” Ridoc breathes. “I had no idea that was going to happen.”

You still haven’t said a word, your entire body trembling — you’re in shock, unable to process your friend’s words.

“Get her into dry clothes,” Bodhi instructs quietly. “She should be fine in a few hours.”

Rhiannon nods, leading you out of the gym and toward your room.

Ridoc stares at his hands, at the frost that still coats his fingertips. You should be fine? Gods, what had he done?

Now he knows how Sawyer felt when his metal-bending signet manifested and he nearly skewered his sparring partner. But that’s the operative word — nearly. He’d definitely hit you with… whatever this is.

“You’re an ice wielder,” Dain answers before the boy can ask, dry and straightforward as always. “Professor Carr can explain.” He takes a few steps toward the door, realizing that Ridoc isn't following him; the younger boy is still stuck in place, silent.

“She’ll be okay,” Violet promises, touching a hand to his arm.

Sawyer offers some encouragement as well: “She knows you didn’t mean it.”

That’s not what he’s worried about.

————————————————

You aren’t at dinner that night, nor at evening formation; he doesn’t see you until breakfast the next day.

Your heart aches as he takes a seat clear across the table from you, as far away as he can be.

Violet comes to sit at your side instead, not mentioning yesterday’s events, but she gives you a soft smile that says I’m glad you’re okay.

You return it, though it doesn't feel as genuine as hers— the cold feeling is long gone, but it’s been replaced with something else that feels just as terrible.

You push the feeling down, waving Sawyer over to sit at your other side and extending him his flight jacket with a soft smile. “Thank you. That was really sweet of you.”

“Of course,” he says, reddening slightly as he puts it back on. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he quiets when he sees you glance at the other end of the table, deflating when you realize Ridoc is already gone.

Ridoc continues keeping his distance. You stand between Rhiannon and Sawyer at morning formation, and sit with them during Battle Brief, Ridoc at the end of your row, uncharacteristically silent.

You don’t see him that afternoon; you haven’t manifested a signet yet, so you aren’t attending Professor Carr’s class. You choose to sit in the study room instead, a textbook in front of you that you hardly touch; you can’t bring yourself to focus.

It’s getting dark out before dinner these days, the winter solstice approaching quickly. It’s supposed to freeze tonight, you’d heard someone say this morning. How ironic.

You sigh, curling up in the chair and tucking your legs to your chest, trying again to start the reading you’d been assigned.

“Mind if I join you?” Violet asks, a matching book of her own in her hand.

You smile softly, gesturing to the chair opposite you.

She sits, but doesn’t take out a pen or paper. “Don’t take it personally,” she says quietly, being mindful of the few other students across the room. “It really spooked him when… that happened. I think he’s afraid he’ll hurt you -- or someone else -- again if he gets too close.”

You’re silent for a moment, your chest aching at the idea of Ridoc, warm, happy, confident Ridoc being afraid, feeling guilty over what had happened by pure accident.

“I talked to him, but I think he needs to hear it from you,” she says gently, opening her book and starting to read, ending the conversation there.

You gaze down at the text, not reading the words -- instead thinking of what you could say to him to make him feel better, to get him back into your life again.

“The truth,” your dragon suggests. “The whole truth.”

————————————————

As soon as Sawyer sees you, he knows what you’re here to do. He excuses himself quietly, mumbling something about forgetting his book upstairs before he shoves everything into his bag and practically bolting away — not subtle at all.

Ridoc blinks in confusion, looking up to ask his friend what the hell that was, but he falls silent when he sees you.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

You could nearly cry at the sound of his voice as he responds, speaking to you for the first time in two days. “Hi.”

You pause, just looking at him for a moment. He looks like he hasn’t slept well for a few nights, his usually vibrant curls and glowing skin flat and dulled. A few of his cuticles are bleeding — he must have been picking at them as a nervous habit.

It hurts you to see him like this.

“You can do this,” she encourages. “Speak from the heart.”

From the heart, you say to yourself. It should be easy enough to say the things you’ve wanted to tell him for weeks.

He speaks before you can, but remains seated, making no move toward you. “I’m so sorry,” he says quietly. “I know saying it won’t change anything, but I really am sorry.”

You smile at him softly. “It’s okay. I’m fine, really. I slept it right off.”

You’d looked and felt so cold yesterday, but here you are, healthy and smiling, not mad at all.

“I’m still sorry. It was an accident, but if I had hit any harder, or hit you somewhere else, I don’t know…” he chews his lip, clearly still upset. “It scared the crap out of me, seeing you like that.”

You slide into the seat next to him and take his hand gently, interlocking your fingers. The warmth of your skin comforts him — that, and the fact you’re still willing to touch him after the other day, when that same hand had nearly frozen you to death.

“I never want that to happen again, especially not to you,” he says softly, gazing at your hands. “I really like you, you know.”

“You like everyone,” you say, not quite following. “That’s your whole deal. You’re easily the most likeable and easygoing guy in the quadrant.”

He cracks a smile, and you feel every ounce of stress melt from your shoulders at the sight of him happy again. “I’m glad you think so, but that's not what I meant.”

Your breath catches. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? He can’t be.

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you.”

You blink at him once, twice, letting out a shocked laugh.

His face falls, and he pulls back, starting to gather his things from the table. “Forget it.”

“No, hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you,” you say quickly, reaching for his hand again. “I was laughing because I came here to say the same thing. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, too.”

“Really?” he breathes, starry-eyed.

“Really,” you confirm. “I have been for a while.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, maybe a little too eagerly.

You smile. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

His lips are on yours before you can blink, soft and plush and perfect. He lifts his other hand, settling it on your waist ever-so-gently, stroking over the slightly tender spot in your ribs in a silent apology. The warmth of his palm against your side soothes the ache, relaxing you completely.

He pulls back after a moment, gazing at you softly.

“I think I’m more than pretty sure after that,” you breathe, stunned.

It’s his turn to laugh as he presses another soft kiss to your lips. “Me too, princess. Me too.”

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure: Our War Game, epilogue

Well, we finished the movie but I wanted to take a moment to go over these epilogue slides. Especially for those fans who only know the OVA from its appearance in Digimon: The Movie, where the slides are skipped over so it can move on to adapt Hurricane Touchdown.

So, in the wake of near-nuclear annihilation how is everybody doing?

We close out Takeru and Yamato's story at the barbershop. It seems Sho has convinced Yamato to fucking do something about his scraggly-ass hair.

This somewhat bridges the gap between Our War Game and 02, where Yamato's hair is still a bit unkempt but no longer looks like a porcupine died on his head and he kept it as a hat.

Jou finished his entrance exams and looks like he's about to drop dead on the spot. Diablomon really fucked up this kid's day, and he still doesn't even know any of that even happened.

Speaking of people who have no idea what happened, Mimi is home from her Hawaii trip and everybody's got suntans. The Tachikawa family is as close as ever.

Hikari is still at that birthday party despite Taichi screaming at her multiple times to drop everything and come home. She has elected to invoke the rule of Go Fuck Yourself, a popular choice among women who've been treated rudely by domineering men.

She, too, remains blissfully unaware of the horrifying fate that nearly befell Tokyo today.

Yamato's grandma seems to be enjoying the peace and quiet since Yamato and Takeru ran off.

Nobody ate any of Yuuko's destroyed cake. Diablomon truly did get the last laugh in the end.

Koushiro finally gets to go home after what must have felt like ten years in Susumu's office.

The Digimon return to Gennai's secret mansion to continue... Whatever they're doing with their lives.

And this is the big one. Sora types out an email to Taichi that reads: "Dear Taichi. I'm sorry. Thank you for the present. Sora." Then we close on the true final shot of the film: A picture of Sora, smiling and wearing the hairclip that Taichi gave her.

As with Yamato's haircut, this also serves to bridge the gap between series as 02 will see Sora no longer covering her hair with headgear. The emotional landmine Taichi stepped on has finally been cleaned up.

So. How we feeling about this film.

Assessment: My biggest complaint is that not one of the show's three female characters got to actually do anything.

Half of the cast was written out, with only Taichi, Yamato, Koushiro, and Takeru having any significant roles - and Takeru's really stretching the definition of "significant" there. That's fine, but it does bug me that not one of the show's women apparently warranted any serious inclusion.

I think that's why they gave Yuuko so much screentime. To compensate for the fact that all three of the Chosen Children girls were excluded.

Diablomon is... pretty straightforward. It's a buggy Digimon made of bugs who eats data, and its eating of data causes more bugs. There's something simple and childlike about its demeanor right up to the end, but any sympathy I may have had for it vanished instantly with the reveal of the nuke.

That the nuke was not a reaction to Taichi and Koushiro but rather something it did right at the start of the film really gives it a lot of added menace that didn't seem present in its earlier stages. And yet it's not super clear if Diablomon even grasps the severity of what it's doing.

But it's unambiguously both aware of and complicit in the nuclear threat. That didn't just happen by accident as a result of a bug. The whole thing with the clock shows that Diablomon knows it launched a nuke and is making a horrifying game out of it.

Which is... All it really does. It doesn't feel like it's trying to destroy the world on purpose. It would have fired more than one nuke if that was what it wanted. It just feels like it's playing games. With extremely high stakes.

What an odd creature.

The stuff in Shimane with Yamato and Takeru was a lot of fun. XD More than I expected it to be. I kinda love the barbershop randos.

Sora and Taichi's drama seems like it's meant to be the emotional center of the film. This is what we open on, and it's what we close on. It's something we keep coming back to as the OVA progresses.

But it's also kinda flat due to Sora basically being a glorified cameo like Jou and the other girls. Without giving Sora any kind of active presence, there's not really anywhere it can go. All we can do is listen to Taichi wring his hands and complain about the drama they're having until his email arrives and it suddenly stops happening.

It's hard to do interesting interpersonal drama as a solo act.

I think the missile itself is the breakout star of this OVA. If there's one thing Our War Game is remembered for, it's... Well, actually, it's the debut of Omegamon. But if there's two things, then it's being the one where an evil Digimon tried to nuke Japan.

All in all... still a fun OVA. Now, there's nothing left between us and Adventure 02. The old guard are retiring to middle school. It's time for a new generation to take over.

[adobe-outdesign]

Please review Koffing and Weezing (Galarian form included) if you haven't already! :)

Koffing is a pretty neat concept. It's similar to the Grimer line in that it's kind of pollution personified, but instead of being more slime and sewage-like, Koffing is based off of poisonous gasses. It's more or less just a balloon that can kill you, but unfortunately the semi-transparent, inflatable skin is completely lost in basically all of its art and animations, making it look more like a floating boulder. Still, it's a decent, straightforward concept.

Visually it's also pretty neat; the simple round body has some of that nice Gen 1 organic-ness with the craters everywhere, and the fans are an unexpected but welcome addition. The skull-and-crossbones on the body is a little blunt, but it works, mostly because they managed to render it in a way where it's still believable as just a set of markings.

Weezing almost falls into the "just multiply it" trap of Gen 1, but thankfully it manages to be more unique than that. First, the faces have changed to have some big ol' brows and larger fangs along with flat upper teeth. The lip is also more defined, and the markings have gotten bigger.

More importantly, however, is that the second head is fused directly with the main body. This makes sense for two gaseous creatures, and gives it an extra deformed look, especially with the third "joint" in the back. The second head is also different from the first, having only a ring instead of a full skull and one set of upper fangs, which keeps it from feeling like the same creature that's been copied and pasted.

In Galar, regular Koffing evolves directly into Galarian Weezing here. It does feel a little abrupt, but at the same time a G. Koffing probably would've been a repeat of the same elements, so it's not exactly a big deal to not even bother.

G. Weezing plays with the original pollution concept by giving them top hats and mustaches resembling that of Victorian-era oil and coal tycoons. The top hats then double as smoke stacks (the creators have also said they're based on steam engines, though I don't personally get that as much), allowing polluted air to be taken in, purified, and released out the top. The palette is also different, swapping out purple for steel-like dark grey with green accents (for the polluted air) and white (for the clean air). This gives the design some good contrast and makes it pop a little more than the original.

For the most part this is a pretty decent idea that makes sense for the region, giving the thick smog that's blanked areas like London in the past, and ties back into the original Pokemon nicely. However, I do think it's maybe a little too on-the-nose? Like I said, the skull-and-crossbones thing works because it was integrated in a way that feels natural, and these designs don't as much. Maybe if the mustaches were less obvious or the hats didn't have a clear brim to them. It's not a huge deal though, and it mostly depends how much you like the more character-based designs.

My only other issue is that it kind of feels a little contradictory conceptually—like they're based off of industrial capitalists and smog, but then also they... clean the air they intake, to the point that they're part fairy-type? Like it feels like the pollution-causing Victorian capitalist theme and the inverted regional that cleans the air instead of polluting it are two separate concepts that both loose a little something when smushed together. Once again not a big deal, but something that's always just low-key bugged me.

Anyway, a pretty solid line as a whole. The concept for the originals is strong and both stages feel unique, and the designs are solid as well. The regional is also good conceptually and visually, albeit maybe a little too complex for its own good.

[katherinecrighton]

Nuts and Bolts: Some Writing Advice

(Reposting a 2013 post from the Anna Katherine co-tumblr)

A friend of mine awhile back asked the aether for some practical, straightforward writing advice, which I assumed meant nuts and bolts stuff.

This is what I ended up writing to her.

(Caveat emptor: 1. The reason advice looks contradictory is because it literally is different for everyone — shit that works for one person won’t work for someone else. Just stick it in your toolbox and move along. 2. I will say obvious shit that you already know. Because it’s possible somebody else doesn’t. 3. You may totally disagree with anything/everything I say, oh my god, that’s fine.)

1. Use the word “said.” Throw in a “she declaimed” every once in a while if you like, but don’t do it all the time. Feel free to put in no dialogue tags at all, if it’s clear who’s speaking. But “said” is free and generally invisible to the reader (and the goal is to not remind the reader that they’re reading).

2. Writing advice for short fiction and writing advice for novels are and writing advice for one genre versus another are all going to tell you slightly (or wildly) different things. So, you know, watch out for that. I suggest switching mediums entirely, and try reading up on screenplays or three-panel comics.

3. Stick your finished draft into a Kindle or some other robot reader, and have a mechanical voice read the story to you. It’s a step removed, and you’ll hear where it clunks. Make notes as it goes.

4. If you don’t have a robot reader, read it out loud to yourself. Actually out loud. Put check marks wherever you cringe. It’s where the reader will likely cringe too.

5. Start your story at the point of change. It’s more interesting. Backfill with exposition a couple of paragraphs later.

6. Sometimes, if I’m writing a one-off, I pick a motif and stick with it as a lodestone for all my descriptions. It’s a way of creating a sort of subliminal mood and atmosphere for the reader, while at the same time maintaining a nice sense of continuity.

7. The English language likes to hear things in threes. Three bears, three nights, three wishes, and what with one thing and another, three years passed. English also likes iambic pentameter and any other rhyme or rhythm scheme it can get its hands on. Readers want language to both have a pretty meaning (three brothers seek their fortune) and a pretty sound (now is the winter of our discontent). The fastest way to do this, and not have it be totally obvious, is to combine the two. Have three lines of description, three examples of something, three jokes — and do it semi-regularly. It creates a rhythm in your work, like a heartbeat. Study other people’s stories and see if you can find where they’re doing the same or similar things. Count stuff.

8. Then, later, fuck with your readers by breaking the rhythm. Stop the heartbeat. Miss the step. The reader will get nervous and uncomfortable and have no idea why. Makes for good tension.

9. Other things that make readers uncomfortable: Set dressing. We’re used to visual mediums. If you want to set up a really uncomfortable scene, describe key things around it going in, and make it clear that it’s Not Okay. A pair of scissors that have been left half open. A door that is not entirely shut. A radio caught between two stations, the garden hose still left running. Nothing overt, nothing obvious – just stuff that feels uncomfortable to read. Do enough of those in a row, as you head toward a confrontation, and the reader will be a ball of avidly reading tension by the end of it. 

10. Graphic sex scenes are equal to action scenes. In both instances, know where everybody is, and what everybody’s doing. Describe with more physical action than you think is necessary. If the reader doesn’t know where everybody’s limbs are and what tools are being used, then they’ll get confused and bored. You can always edit later.

[rex-meshla]

Shadows of the Force

PAIRING | Captain Rex x F!OC (Stella Cardone) WORD COUNT | 1.6k PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3

Chapter 4: Threads of Destiny

The days passed, each one bringing new lessons, new faces, and strange insights about the galaxy around me. The Jedi Temple became my home base, though home still felt too strong a word. I followed the Council's instructions as best I could, absorbing each lesson like a sponge, struggling to wrap my mind around the concept of the Force.

When Master Yoda summoned me to the meditation chamber, I expected clarity, some kind of spark. But stepping into the quiet room, all I felt was frustration, simmering just beneath the surface. Every lesson on Jedi discipline and detachment only seemed to push me further away from everything I clung to—the things that had kept me alive after Earth was destroyed.

The chamber was dim, thick with silence. Only the faint hum of the Temple filled the air. Yoda sat at the center, calm and waiting, his eyes sharp as ever. I mirrored his posture, attempting to clear my mind, but the silence only amplified the doubts I couldn't shake.

"A strong connection to the Force, deeply rooted within you, I sense" Yoda said, his gaze steady, unblinking. "Much like young Skywalker's, strong it is. But different, yes. Untrained."

The word hung in the air, filling me with both promise and responsibility. This power had brought me here, saved me. Yet, I still felt as lost as I ever was. "What do you mean, Master Yoda?" I asked, trying to make sense of his cryptic words.

"The Force calls to you." Yoda continued. "Paths, it reveals before you"

He handed me a smooth crystal, clear as glass but faintly glowing in my hand. "Feel it. Listen, and see."

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The crystal warmed against my skin, and suddenly, it was like a door opened in my mind. For a moment, I saw flashes—faces, distant stars, endless motion as if I were traveling through them, far away, yet intimately close. The intensity faded quickly, leaving me breathless and disoriented.

"An important choice, you face" Yoda murmured, his tone contemplative. "Decide, if this path you wish to pursue. Training as a Jedi—it requires discipline and sacrifice."

The weight of his words settled on me. The idea of becoming a Jedi seemed overwhelming. Foreign. But there was something inside me that urged me forward—something deep, something that resonated with this path. "I don't know if I'm ready," I admitted, the weight of it settling in. "But... I want to understand. I want to try."

Yoda nodded, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "In trying, much you will discover. Begin we shall, with simple exercises". 

His instructions were straightforward, but there was care in his voice, like a guide leading me into uncharted territory. I could feel the Force now, a quiet hum in my bones, like an electric current linking me to something much larger than myself.

"Much turmoil within you, I sense." Yoda said, his gaze steady as it seemed to pierce through me.

I breathed in deeply, trying to match his calm, but the stillness of the room pressed down on me like a weight. "Master Yoda... why must we let go of everything and everyone to be Jedi? The Force connects us, but doesn't that mean it brings us closer to others?"

Yoda tilted his head, his expression unreadable yet kind. "Close, the Force brings us, yes. But possess, it does not. Through attachment, fear grows." His words were gentle, but the tightness in my chest only deepened. "Cloud even the clearest of hearts, such fear can."

I swallowed, fighting back the rising lump in my throat. "But I've already lost everything," I said, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay composed. "Everyone I cared about on Earth is gone. The more I try to let go of that pain, the more it clings to me."

Yoda nodded, his gaze softening. He didn't look at me like I was broken. He listened like he understood the weight of my grief. "Letting go, forgetting it is not. Allowing the pain to transform, to become strength, it is."

A heaviness settled over me. "But... doesn't it isolate us?" I whispered, feeling the truth of it in my bones. "Letting go of every bond? Isn't it easier to be strong with someone by your side?"

His eyes softened further, the kindness in them almost sad. "In standing alone, a Jedi's strength is not. But in freedom from chains of fear, it lies," he said. "Questioning, you are. Understandable, this is. But hold to fear, and chained, you will be."

After the meditation, Yoda's words echoed in my mind as I walked the halls of the Temple, trying to process everything. I understood the wisdom in detachment, in freeing myself from the kind of fear that had held me captive all my life. But it felt impossible. How could I let go of the only thing that had kept me grounded when I was lost? How could I sever the last ties to Earth?

The next day, I threw myself into training, hoping answers would come through action. But each lesson felt like a test I wasn't quite ready for. Every movement felt like a wall I had to break through. Anakin noticed my distraction, though he didn't ask. He simply kept me focused, pulling me back whenever my thoughts wandered.

During one of our sparring sessions, I'd catch him watching me, his gaze sharp, like he was trying to read me, searching for something I didn't even understand myself.

Afterward, I struggled to meditate alone in a quiet room, frustration building with each passing moment. That was when I felt a familiar presence behind me.

"Stillness, not easily found, hmm?" Yoda's voice startled me. He was sitting behind me, watching, his gaze calm but aware of my frustration.

I sighed, the frustration spilling out. "It's hard to clear my mind, Master. Every time I try, there's this... resistance. I don't know if I can ever let go like I'm supposed to."

Yoda nodded, his expression unchanging but filled with quiet understanding. "An open heart, you have. Accept your emotions, you must, before transform, they can."

His words struck a chord deep within me. Accept my emotions. Maybe I'd been trying too hard to silence the parts of me that still felt broken. Maybe they didn't need to be pushed away—maybe they needed to be acknowledged, understood.

That night, I didn't fight the memories. I let them come—the faces of my family and friends, the sound of laughter in the halls of Earth's old cities, the warmth of a home I would never see again. I let the pain in, feeling it fully for the first time. And as tears slipped down my face, I finally started to feel lighter.

The following day, during a sparring match with Anakin, something had shifted. I felt different—more grounded, less tangled in the past. Anakin didn't pull his punches. His strikes were swift, relentless. I was forced to focus on every movement, my instincts sharpening with every block, every dodge.

When I blocked one of his strikes, I felt a steady current of calm within me, something I hadn't sensed before.

"You're making progress," he said, smiling. "I can see it. You're not fighting yourself so much anymore."

I paused, catching my breath. "Why are you so intense about all of this?"

Anakin's expression faltered for a moment, something flickering in his eyes, like a memory he couldn't shake. Then, he lowered his stance, the intensity returning. "Because I see potential in you," he said seriously. "But also... I know how dangerous the path can be. I don't want you to go through what I did unprepared."

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but something told me now wasn't the time. Instead, I simply nodded, letting his words sink in.

The weeks that followed were filled with rigorous training. Each lesson unraveled more of the mysteries of the Force. My connection to it grew stronger, as did my bond with Anakin. With every lesson, with every sparring match, I felt more and more like I was starting to fit into this strange new life.

Then, one morning, I was summoned by the Jedi Council. The weight of the masters' gazes was unmistakable as they observed me, assessing my progress.

Master Windu leaned forward, his eyes sharp. "Stella, you have demonstrated resilience and an openness to the Force. But the path of a Jedi requires more. It is a path of discipline and purpose."

Master Yoda's voice joined his, calm yet firm. "A unique journey, yours will be. Your connection to the Force, strong but untrained it is. Without guidance, dangerous it could become." His glance flicked to Anakin, as though confirming something unsaid.

"Knight Skywalker," Windu addressed Anakin, "the Council believes you should serve as Stella's mentor. You have already forged a bond of trust, and your own journey has given you perspective on those who begin from different paths."

Anakin tensed, but quickly composed himself, nodding. "Thank you, Masters," he said, his tone respectful but with an edge of determination. "I'll do everything I can to guide her."

As we left the Council chambers, Anakin stared down at the polished floor, lost in thought.

"So... you're officially my teacher now?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He nodded, meeting my gaze with a faint smile. "Looks like it. Fair warning—I don't always do things by the book."

I laughed, the tension easing a little. "I think I can handle that."

But his expression turned serious, his eyes intense. "The Council sees something in you, Stella. So do I. But this path won't be easy. There's more to the Force than you've seen—and there are darker things out there, too."

The weight of his words settled over me, sparking a sense of both anticipation and resolve. I held his gaze and nodded. "I'll do my best, Master."

_____________________________________________________________

You can find the next chapter here and my masterlist here x

[jeanbie]

SLYTHERIN! ERWIN ★ masterlist.

part of the “hogwarts” series  ੈ♡‧₊˚ my favourite blonde haired man <33

born into an unpredictable line of half blood wizards, erwin was expecting to be a squib or a normal muggle until his magic manifested in the worst way possible when he was around 7

i think he's always had a very straightforward and headstrong mindset about him that caused a lot of problems growing up

to the point where the idea of going to Hogwarts ended up being the most exciting thing to happen to him after his dad died

(coincidentally around the same time as his magic manifesting)

his dad was a wizard and he'd gone to Hogwarts when he was younger — his dad had been in Ravenclaw, which is what erwin was aiming for until the hat persuaded him against it, charming him towards the sea of green

the choice the hat made to put erwin in Slytherin was met with head scratches and puzzled sounds; those in Slytherin always feel like erwin's a little out of place (even though they all love him)

but as he gets older, they start to see just what on earth the hat saw going on in erwin's head and quickly understand why he's donning Slytherin robes and no other house

he's definitely a team player — not so much a quidditch player as he is a fan of it, he likes to go to the games when he can, but he's a mean competitor in chess (always beats zeke) and absolutely rules the debate club

although he can look a bit unapproachable, i think a lot of Slytherins love erwin because of how to-the-point he is

he's very no nonsense

if you want help with your homework, of course he'll try, but it can't be a regular thing because he's just got other things taking precedence

what? a GRYFFINDOR was picking on you? embarrassing that you'd let it happen, learn to fight your own battles next time, but okay he'll come help you just to make the point extra clear that if you mess with a Slytherin, you mess with ALL Slytherins

definitely an owl guy

has the cutest owl ever who he loves more than most people, though she's terrible at aiming his post in the morning

he's also very punctual — attends all his classes, engages in the work, does his assignments, never hands anything in late

but he's also a little bit selfish

he likes to do things if he knows he can gain something out of it, he's not exactly selfless enough to be a role-model for free

if his homework is stupid, he will put in the minimal amount of effort to make a point

yes, the Slytherins like him, but that doesn't mean he has to necessarily be their best friend

he's kind of like zeke in the way that he looks a looooot older than his peers which helps lend a hand to getting what he wants and/or getting other advantages

if harry hadn't have made the DA then erwin might have, though

he's not zeke's biggest supporter but erwin has to hand it to zeke for being the biggest menace next to fred and george — and erwin's more than happy helping cover up whatever mess zeke makes for the sake of house loyalty

most of Slytherin's house points are gained by erwin

always knows how to break into locked rooms, like he's just so good at getting himself in places he shouldn't be

it's been his lifelong mission to explore the lower level of the library in the restricted section but that one ghost has been pissing him off

and he's desperate to figure out a way to get rid of peeves forever

erwin hates that mf

has an albatross patronus; he never gives up on his goals and if he's hit with an obstacle, he will pursue it relentlessly until it is no longer a problem for him

his favourite sweets on the trolley are licorice swans, and he has personal beef with chocolate frogs and has never gotten around to eating one cause they always bounce off

definitely has lots of friends who are not in Slytherin; in fact, almost all of his closest friends are in other houses, and it's strictly because he lives with these Slytherins and doesnt trust them one bit

he's seen how these bitches live

and erwin really wants to be an auror after Hogwarts is over <33

and what pookie wants pookie shall get

[i-heart-hxh]

I'm sure you've gotten this question before but the needle question got me thinking: do you have any idea how the Zoldyck heir situation even works? I'm guessing it's based on a talent and performance base (and having anime protag hair lol), but it's interesting that it's not simply "the eldest child is the heir to the family business." And if so, when was Killua deemed the heir? Love to hear your thoughts!

Hello! Actually, nobody's asked me this before, so it's a fun topic to dig into!

Canon doesn't provide much detail on this topic, so I'll do my best to convey what we do/don't know and then make some guesses based off that.

There's a popular belief I've seen in the fandom that Killua was chosen as the heir because of his hair color (and/or potentially nen type that may or may not come along with this), however this has never been confirmed by anything in the series. I do think when Togashi designed the Zoldyck siblings with Killua being the only one to inherit the white/silver hair like Silva and Zeno, it was almost certainly with the intention of making the fact that he's "special" among the family even clearer, but as far as we know currently, the heir is chosen based on perceived talent/potential.

I'm guessing this might include physical prowess and skill as an assassin, leadership ability, and mental stability. Killua is said to be the most talented Zoldyck in the entire history of the family, so I'm sure that heavily weights the decision towards him (in spite of the elements that make him "unsuitable," which the family seems to believe they can push out of him in various ways).

(Unofficial translation, but it was worded in a more straightforward way than the official one.)

We're never told how or when the heir is decided--perhaps they evaluate the children at a certain age with regards to this, or it's simply an ongoing discussion among the heads of the household until they come to a decision. There may be some formal process or ritual to determine who becomes the heir that we just haven't been given info on. It wouldn't surprise me with how complex the Zoldyck family's traditions, rules, and ways of operating are. I do think it makes sense that the heir isn't just the first born son, because assassination is an intense, multifaceted trade and leaving that business in the hands of just anyone doesn't seem wise.

Here's a bit that implies there's some sort of timeline by which the heir is prepared to take over the family, because Killua is apparently at the most crucial stage of this:

Looking at the other siblings, I think it's pretty clear why Killua is the best choice (in the view of Silva and Kikyo)--Illumi is unstable, power hungry, and has no qualms about killing innocent people to achieve his goals; Milluki is a shut-in who seems more focused on his hobbies than "work" and lacks common sense; Alluka has the Nanika issue and is barely even considered a member of the family to begin with. I don't know if Kalluto has anything in particular that disqualifies him, but it's not as though it's easy to compete with Killua, the most talented Zoldyck in the history of the family...

It wouldn't surprise me if we get a little more detail on the heir situation later in the series, seeing as Killua is still considered the heir as far as we know, and I think that's an issue that's going to have to be dealt with eventually in some way or another.

That's about all the insight I can give on this topic for now because we've only been given little tidbits on how it works, but I hope this was helpful or interesting nonetheless. Thank you for asking!