#i don't reply much over there but all comments are very much appreciated 🥰

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

I do love his love for cats very much lolol. Thank you so much for your kind words 💕

jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

[shininglikeyoursmile]

My favourite melody

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x female reader

Word count: around 500

Summary : Lloyd realises how far he'd fallen for you and he doesn't wish to stop it anytime soon maybe never.(This is from his pov)

Warning: Soft Lloyd, 😌, feels ,🥺. Fluff!!!!!🥰😊😇 . As always no minors. 18+ only.

A/n: WHY HE'S FICTIONAL! 😭😭😭. I want my own llyod to take care of me . Liiiike please🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺. I just love him 🥹🥹🥹

There is no actual description of reader. No use of y/n.

All mistakes are my own. No beta read. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

As always my beloved, comments, feedback and reblog are SO MUCH APPRECIATED!!!!! please leave some feedback!!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩

Lots of love! ❤️

Lloyd POV:

I used to think the world revolved around me until she came storming in my life ,and for once I wasn't complaining.

The realisation hit me after a while, that my world revolved around her. She sets my soul on fire and the warmth soothes the very reason of my being. I don't want the fire to ever be put out because it makes me feel alive. I trace my fingertips along her cheek and it's more than enough that she's in my arms . More than anything it's enough for me, for a lifetime but maybe I am greedy and I want her for eternity. Her sleeping form moves closer to seek more of my warmth and my heart feels like it can burst out of my chest at the next second but instead it beats so hard that it makes a melody which my ears only hear. I love her and God, I love her. "I've never asked for anything, Cupcake. But for you," he leans down and his lips dance along your forehead "for you I will beg to God." . He lets the words hang in the air. It's like a warm blanket settled over his cold heart. A heart he used to think which can't love. But then there are you making him feel every single thing. His hand seetles on your waist and he pulls you closer and you let out a sigh of contentment. His words from earlier echo in his head and he feels the reality of how far he has fallen for you. His Cupcake. He tilts your chin to get a better look at your sleeping face. My sunshine " he whispers and his lips brush along your jaw . His gaze moves to your close eyes and he thinks, the colour of your eyes is his favourite and he makes a promise to himself to keep it like that till his last breath and for eternity if that's what is waiting for you both. "I want you in a way I can't explain Sunshine. But let me try to explain it"he sighs and his lips turn in a grin"If someone asked me to choose between the world and you, and I had two chances , i will choose you twice so the world better know you are mine and I am yours' ' . The evening is turning colder ,he notices as he gazes at the window . "I will choose your warmth if everything I've achieved is winter "he continues ,"I need you more than air ."

"Lloyd " your sleepy voice makes his eyes meet yours "yeah, sunshine?" He replies with a smile. "I am sleepy" you say in a baby-like tone and he smiles, genuinely smiles. A type of smile which makes his eyes twinkle in the dark night. "And nothing is stopping you from sleeping more " he says in a soft tone and then you are back to sleep. It's like his presence has that calming effect on your soul which makes you fall asleep easily and moreover fall in love with him. He pulls up the warm blanket more til it's touching your chin and that's the last thing you both remember when the deep slumber of sleep pulls you in a sea of dreams. And for the nth time he isn't complaining.

**

Aggghh my heart 🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

[abitohoney]

I know I've been very silent lately in regards to my writing. Haven't posted anything in... months. I also have not replied to comments, tags, etc. Please know that it doesn't mean I don't appreciate them. I'm just not in the best place right now, and I've been avoiding my writing because it gives me awful anxiety. I just feel like every word I write is crap (I know that's likely not true, but I just can't get past it right now ☹️). So for those of you still supporting my existing work, thank you so very much. I hope to reply some day soon to really show my appreciation. It's just likely going to take me a while. Likely will be a while before I can get back into writing too. Plenty of ideas that won't go away, but not enough confidence/talent. Special thanks to @fyeahnix! I've read all your comments over on AO3 several times and saw your posts over here tagging me and mentioning me in your tags! I'm incredibly flattered that a writer I admire enjoys my fics so much! 🥰

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Hiii you don't have to answer this ask at all. I just wanted to send you a thank you note to tell you that I really appreciate you and admire the love you have for eruri. I left the fandom back when it was revealed that Erwin had died (oh the heartbreak 🤧). Very recently, I picked up aot again because I heard the Very Last Episode was coming out soon. I've been dipping my toes back into the fandom, and I was so incredibly happy to see that you were still around and that your love for eruri was still strong. I got to catch up with a lot of stuff regarding eruri (official media, fanart, fanfic, fandom/anon takes on Certain Events through the years, etc) thanks to your blog! Thank you for all your hard work! And I'm sorry that you receive hate/weird anon takes. It must be tiring to go through all the unnecessary 💩 asks that are taking up space in your inbox. Ummm so what I wanted to say is: your blog and your fics are truly a god send to eruris everywhere!🤣 Thank you for putting your heart and time into this blog! I hope the hate comments don't wear you down too much.🥺 You are a wonderful person and haters just hate to see you thriving and living your best life.🙄 THANKS AGAIN 🥰💋❤️

Hi Anon, thank you sooo much for your lovely message. I really appreciate you taking the time to write this. You're very kind. I wanted to reply to your ask, firstly to thank you, and secondly to say that this right here is my experience of the Eruri fandom and this is why I'm still here after all these years.

I know that the vast majority of the Anon hate in my inbox, and in the fandom more generally, comes from a vanishingly small number of individuals, who are very much the exception rather than the rule. The vast majority of Eruri fans that I've encountered in the last 8 years have been the most amazing, creative and generous people you could ever wish to meet. The Eruri fandom isn't huge by any measure but the quality and creativity of the art and fic is rightly well known. Eruri fans have produced amazingly professional zines that would be the envy of much larger fandoms, and have come together time and time again to raise thousands of dollars for important causes such as medical relief for Palestine and Ukraine.

On a more personal level, I've been humbled by the generosity of Eruri fans, by the fic, art, friendship and support they've shared with me. I've met so many amazing people from all walks of life and corners of the globe. Some have been my best friends for almost a decade now. We've travelled the world, crossed oceans to spend time together, and shared so many incredible experiences and memories. Whenever I get hate or death threats in my inbox, it doesn't phase me, it just makes me feel a bit sad for the people sending it because their lives must be very empty indeed.

So thank you Anon, YOU are the reason I'm still here, you and the many Eruri fans like you who it's been a joy to share this amazing fandom with over the last 8 years 💕

[yellowloid]

💫, 🎀, 💥, 💋, 💌 for the writing asks 🥰

thank you so much for the questions 🥰

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

i love love love long comments where the reader just goes over a whole list of things that stuck with them while reading, little details, images, ways a character acted, something the characters said; i just absolutely adore hearing about what the reader felt while reading my fics, how a particularly angsty passage put them in their feelings, a very fluffy bit sent them giggling and smiling at the screen, or a smutty scene had them losing their mind skfjshsfh. i also love when people tell me they've got passages from my fics screenshotted on their phone or quoted in their journals, or when they tell me that something i wrote helped them smile when they were sad, or helped them through a difficult time, or simply managed to distract them from real life problems, even if just for a bit. i love knowing that my writing can have a positive impact on other people's lives, no matter how small it might be <3

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

i think i'm pretty good at coming up with new images to express the kind of visceral love i write about whenever i write milex, both with the romantic and sexual aspect of it; i also think i do a good job at making the most of the more "aesthetic" part of writing - making sure my words and sentences not only make sense, but also "look good" together. i want my writing to sound as poetic and melodious as it can, that's really important to me and i tend to spend a lot of time trying to achieve that :)

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

my least kudos'd fic is the third and final part of my 'satin and lace' series, 'of loving at will, of loving till death'. my venice honeymoon fic <3 one that, in many ways, closed a chapter of my life that started back when i posted the first part of this series; if you know me, you also know how much this trilogy means to me. writing and posting the last part not only felt like a challenge, but also a quite emotional one sjfhshsjgh because i knew i'd miss those chaotic smitten husbands so much </3

despite it having less kudos than other fics of mine, i'm still really fond of this one. i made so much research for it - which now results in me knowing a whole lot of random trivia about venice - and i'm very satisfied with how realistic and accurate the descriptions of the city turned out, as well as the way they mixed with the expression of their love, the romance and drama of it all... plus i went on vacation this summer and spent a day in venice (i'd visited once when i was a kid but didn't remember much) and it just meant so much to me, visiting that city now that it holds a whole new and special meaning to me <3 it felt so !!!! walking around those sunny alleys and crossing all those bridges over the canals, imagining miles and alex doing the same, hand in hand, disgustingly in love with each other. it was just so magical and special - and i think that fic really captures the spirit of venice as a whole 💙💜

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

absolutely!! i think it's not only ao3 etiquette, but also like... the whole point of it? if i leave a comment it's because i want the author to know i loved their work, and if they never reply i feel like a. they secretly hate me or smth or b. they haven't seen my comment and now they won't know i loved their fic!!!!! when i know damn well that they don't hate me and they also most likely saw the comment and appreciated it, but just didn't reply for whatever reason. some people don't reply to comments and that's okay skfjshfhs but i certainly do in most cases and i definitely want to hear back from other writers when i leave one myself!!

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

okay okay so. this is all assuming i don't have a mental breakdown over it and drop it lmao but basically. it's a long-fic. two and a half chapters are already written. it's very angsty and alex is a stupid self-loathing idiot in it (<3). their performance of 'last night i dreamt' by the smiths @ alexandra palace is an out of context spoiler for it. that's all i can say without getting into spoilery details and/or giving away the whole premise of it gkskfjsdhgk

[mimisempai]

Just a bad day

Summary

Even though separated by thousands of miles, Bucky is ready to offer comfort to his lover, no matter the time of day or night.

On AO3

Rating G - 630 words

It was about three in the morning when Bucky's phone vibrated near his head.

It was a facetime call and he knew exactly who was calling at that hour. He accepted without hesitation, without even checking.

He did a quick calculation in his head, it was about six in the evening in Delacroix.

The first thing he saw was a mass of white fur as Sam's growling voice reached his ears, "Alpine, I'm the one who wants to talk to Bucky so move over."

The cat meowed in protest but obeyed nonetheless and in its place Bucky saw Sam's face appear.

He was not surprised at his lover's drawn features and the sadness in his eyes. He knew what a special day it was and he had expected Sam's call.

He whispered softly, "Hey Doll."

Sam walked over to the camera and whispered, "Hey Bucky, I..."

As he searched for his words, Bucky noticed that he was wearing one of his old hoodies, showing him how much emotional distress he was in that he needed Bucky's clothes to comfort himself. He felt even more bad that he couldn't reschedule this session to update his arm to another time of year. But he couldn't ask Queen Shuri to adjust her schedule to Bucky's either.

Sam continued, "I'm sorry to wake you up, but..."

Bucky stopped him, frustrated that he couldn't touch him, "Hey don't be sorry, I couldn't sleep, I knew you would call. No matter what time it is, I'm here for you, even if not physically."

Sam whispered softly, "You know what day it is."

Bucky nodded.

Of course he knew after all these years. It was the anniversary of Riley's death and he knew how terrible, even after all this time had passed, his loss had been for Sam.

Bucky asked gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam shook his head and replied, "Can we just talk? About everything, about your day, about Wakanda, about anything. Anything that will make me forget what I've been thinking about all day. I... just need to forget."

Bucky said softly, "I'm so sorry I'm not there."

Sam shook his head again, "Don't be. Talk to me."

Bucky nodded, and seeing that Sam looked exhausted, he said softly, "Okay, first, I want you to go make yourself comfortable in our bed as if you were going to sleep."

Sam obeyed and Bucky waited until he appeared in front of the camera again and said in a slightly amused tone, "There you go, my very own mother hen, I'm ready for the night."

Bucky hummed in appreciation, happy to see a small smile, however slight, on his lover's lips.

Then he slowly began to talk, recounting his days in Wakanda, his joy at having his goats back, the intriguing Namor visiting Queen Shuri, and how they were pining for each other. The meal shared with Ayo and Aneka. All sorts of things. Without stopping.

At first Sam made little comments, even had a chuckle or two, but then his interventions became less frequent until Bucky saw that Sam had fallen asleep.

Bucky called softly, "Alpine, my girl, come here."

He saw the little cat's muzzle appear and whispered, "You take good care of him girl, right? I'll be back soon."

The feline meowed, almost inaudibly as if not to wake Sam.

Then she went to lie against his head and Sam, probably awakened by her movement, muttered in his sleep, "Bucky... thank you."

Bucky gazed at his sleeping lover and said softly, "You're welcome, sleep now doll, tomorrow everything will be fine."

Sam replied almost unintelligibly, "Yeah...love you."

Bucky smiled and said in turn, "I love you." then watched his lover sleep, until it was his turn to fall asleep.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Sambucky masterlist here

[diaryofawallfly]

Darn you. Contemplating watching Psycho to get a feel for Anthony Perkins as an appearance for Renfield because I know you've been considering it. (I've been watching all too many old horror movies as of late and loving it.) Do you have a preference or personal tendencies on how you view your Renfield? He's an interesting guy. Also, Misfit, thank you for reblogging those 'how to get started' posts over on Julian's blog a while back- have any other pointers?

Oh PLEASE watch Psycho if you haven't! I absolutely adore it and it's made such a lasting impact on horror history! 🥰

With regard to choosing Anthony Perkins, specifically in Psycho, I've been thinking of the potential of using him for rp icons! I feel he bridges the very large gap between Dwight Frye and Nicholas Hoult rather well. Perkins was also 6'3" and had delicious, malevolent facial expressions.

As much as I love a short king, I've become a sucker for Renfield being taller than Dracula. I'm also keen on keeping his strangeness and manic tendencies, which felt lacking in Renfield (2023). Or at least it wasn't very visible to us. And finally his sass! I've seen many talk about how he sasses Dracula and makes backhanded comments or his sarcasm 💅🏻. I don't want that to get lost as it's so fun to play with! It adds some very lovely dimension to his character.

With regard to stepping into online roleplay: honestly, starting small really helped me. I started with the basics: an about and some rules. Don't worry about fancy formatting or having pretty icons or even too much about blog themes. Those can be very intimidating, time consuming, and resource heavy. It wasn't until I started this blog that I really started doing any of that! And I've had @manicpanicaddict since 2018!

Another difficult hurdle for me was learning to reach out to other folks to write. You can't expect people to make the first move. Read other peoples rules, see if you have the potential the mesh, then follow them/like for a starter/send a meme. The worst they could do is not reply but don't take it personally (tbh when I've been left on read, the blog wasn't around for much longer after that! ha!). It's really relationship based but truly it's helped me understand how to be social more than anything. ♾️

A disclaimer though, I did get very lucky and was friends with rpers before I started so I had a leg up here. 😅

I hope that helps!!! And thank you for taking interest in my little bug! I really appreciate it!

[bluejayblueskies]

If you're still doing the end of year fanfic ask thing; 13, 18 and 21?

fanfic end-of-year asks

13 - favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

the technical answer to this is probably the heavy rain/no thunder spotify track i write to 99% of the time asdlgkjagl BUT i did also spend a weird chunk of time listening to this song in particular while writing whisky lol

18 - current number of wips

oh gosh. including both posted and unposted wips, i've got

malevolent:

whisky

tattoo john

timeloop fic

tma:

SUU

10000 flowers

fata morgana

tim no eyes oops

Bad Gender Feelings

magic poetry

therapy somewhere else

bad martin feelings

more bad martin feelings (poetry specific)

moulin rouge au (does it count as a WIP if i've abandoned it?)

time travel fic

so 14 WIPs! i intend to finish at least 7 of those (all the malevolent ones plus 10000 flowers, fata morgana, tim no eyes oops, and magic poetry). the rest very well may float in the ether for all eternity 😅

21 - most memorable comment/review

ohhhhh gosh this is hard because i keep all the comments i get close to my heart 💜 i think it's a tie between the comments from anonymous commenter 'oh my' on whisky (if you're seeing this your comments are so lovely and i cherish them greatly 💕), the occasional new comment i'll get on it will be this, always talking about how the fic helped them resolve their feelings about s5 (which was why i wrote it so i love seeing it help other people!) (AO3 user Random_Reviewer left a comment like this that is so <3 <3 <3 to me), and comments on my aspec stuff talking about how it's helped people realize that they're aspec, come to terms with their aspecness, or just see parts of themselves in my writing (i got one from an anonymous reviewer on my aro!martin fic in the reciprocal a month or so ago that made me 🥰)

i know that's not a specific comment but! idk! i have a hard time picking the most memorable because i just love them all <3

(also! while i'm here talking about comments: i know that i'm absolutely terrible at replying to them, but if you're reading this and you've ever left a comment on one of my works, please know that i love and appreciate you SO MUCH and i've probably read your comment multiple times and gushed over it repeatedly. i have a hard time finding the words to reply to them in a genuine and meaningful way [SO sorry if you've ever left a question in a comment, i try to reply to those but sometimes i forget, feel free to send me a message asking the question again if i don't reply, my brain is a sieve lol] but i do love everyone's feedback 💕 yall are the reason i share my work and the reason i get so excited to write new things, and i appreciate you all 🥰)

[dragodina]

🎨👻💥✨

Thank you for replying this morning and also for the questions, I really appreciate it 🥰❤️.

Like you my answers are all about Tatort Hamburg and for my favourite lady cop, her lovely yet moody partner sidekick and my beloved lady cop couple 😊

Here we go! Oh and sorry for the length 😅🙈✌🏼:

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I don't know if it counts as "wild" but the one canon thing I most wish for, is running around in my head very wildly and that's very likely not going to happen is: (Oh surprise) TINIA 😊❤️. And maybe that is also an kind of unpopular opinion. Julia Grosz and Tine Geissler back together happily ever after. Because Julia deserves to find some love and why the heck not with Tine Geissler. #LiebefürJulia

💥 What is one canon thing that you wish you could change?

See answer for 👻. I'm very desperate about them 😅😂🤣🙈.

✨️ Out of the comments you’ve received on your fics, what are two or three of your favorites?

Phew, that one really is a tough question. Because of the nature of the small fandom and the pairing all of the comments that are shared are very special on their own.

The comments on the very first chapter of "Last Chance" though will probably have a very special place in my tiny heart.

Just because of the fact that I have never posted anything before storywise in my life, only ever wrote things down to get them put of my head but never shared them. But then the Tatort Hamburg episode "Schattenleben" touched me so deeply that I just wrote a piece of something. And did not expect to receive anything. But what I got back through the comments was so much more treasured. I re-discovered the joy of wroting that I had lost for a very long time as well aß the courage to post it online and see how others like the ideas that are constantly Rundung theough my head. And for that I am very grateful.

I'm just very thankful for all the lovely words.

@caromitpunkt @disappointingsalad @MJ & you always leave so generous words that keeps the re-found passion alive and going.

I got a comment from a person who mentioned that they usually just read and don't comment but couldn't resist because they enjoyed "Last Chance" so much, that was very lovely and really made my day 😊.

I'm happy if people from other fandoms come over and take their time to leave words of appreciation as well.

It's really cool when people point out their favorite lines or scenes or some of the details I put in (longer) stories once in a while.

If someone comnents they like the writing style that is allways nice because I really just write what I think and comes to my mind but never really had any education about it.

I love your comments @except4bunnies and input, because you are always very encouraging and share point of views that I probably haven't considered and I like to see stuff from another angle (your angle) and the open exchange that developes through that. For example if storylines or scenes that I decided on are realistic for certain characters. Not only about stories but also all FW things considered. I know you are quite alright with the canon version of Julia as it is and so I really apprecite that you still bear with my Tinia madness 😊.

The comments of @kuestenkindimherzen are always so heartwarming and escalating and I really love and am happy to have someone to share the Tinia madness with 🥰🙈.

In general I'm just very grateful for every single comment and everyone who shares their thoughts on stories, just because I like my ideas doesn't neccssarily mean they are awesome. So its nice to see if I can catch one emotion or another in a reader that I definitely had when writing scenes.

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

I would so love to see a fanvid of Julia Grosz to the music of Sigur Rós 😊. It would be even more perfect with Tine Geissler 🥰. That would really make my day, okay probably my whole year 😅✌🏼.

There is one scene from "Happiness" right at the beginning when Julia wakes up in the morning with Tine in her arms, their hands resting intertwined over Tines stomach. Kuestenkindimherzen commented that she would love to get a painting of that exact scene. And I can only agree wholeheartedly to that, I would very much love that too 🥰❤️.

Then there is that dance scene between Julia and Tine in "Last Christmas" at a police christmas party to Scalas version of "Last Christmas" that felt very special to me while writing it. I don't even know if that sparked as much joy for readers as it did for me while I imagined it in my head 🙈.

In the end, I would just be happy to get any Julia & Tine content at all 😅🥰❤️.

[themomsandthecity]

Julia Fox Is a Mom of a 2-Year-Old, and Her Apartment Proves It

Julia Fox believes in "maximum transparency." So despite her fear of being roasted in the comments, she decided to do a tour of her messy, kid-centric apartment on her TikTok. As a mom to 2-year-old Valentino, Fox wanted to normalize her space in all its chaotic glory - something she hopes most parents can relate to. "Maybe someone can watch this and think, 'OK, so maybe I'm not doing so bad,'" she says in the video. Fox starts the tour in her "bedroom," which is actually the apartment's living room. "I put my bed in the living room so I could turn my bedroom into a little playroom for Valentino," she says while sweeping the camera over the toys on the floor and a random clothing rack she says she "really [needs] to get rid of." (#Relatable.) She then shows off her "nostalgia mirror" that's decorated with photos of Valentino as a newborn next to mementos of loved ones who have passed. The mirror hangs over her "grow station" (two small pots filled with soil). Despite being labeled with small signs for "mint" and "basil," she confirms that "nothing is growing because we don't know what we're doing." From there, Fox takes us down a long hallway, passing a variety of items needed to transport her toddler around NYC, including a tricycle, strollers, and an array of little shoes. She makes sure to point out Valentino's daycare schedule, written in marker on a whiteboard near the front door. Then there's a quick stop to peek at her "little" bathroom with leftover toys in the tub. "It's very tiny, but it does what it's supposed to do," she says. Entering the kitchen, we see Valentino's adorable mini kitchen facing the real deal. The countertops are covered with gadgets like a brand-new cotton-candy maker and various shoe boxes. She adds a disclaimer for viewers, "Don't judge me! I know it's really messy," though all we can think about is the luxury of access to fresh cotton candy. But the crown jewel of the 31-year-old's apartment is her son's bedroom. "I put the most effort into this room," she says, showing off the lofted bed and built-in bookshelves. "I really wanted him to have a cute room." However, Fox admits he doesn't spend any of his time there. "He only wants to be in Mama's room," she says. "He sleeps in bed with me. Yeah, we're cosleepers, sue me. I don't care." This isn't the first time Fox has shared her honest experience of motherhood. In September 2022, she opened up about the rude awakening that came with postpartum depression. "I think it's just such a reality check when you finally have a kid and you're like, 'Holy f*ck, this has just drastically made my entire life worse," she shared on TikTok. "This is not at all the fairy tale that I was f*cking promised. But how do we say that out loud?" While Fox clearly loves her son, she acknowledges the importance of maintaining transparency among parents. @juliafox Come with me on a very underwhelming apartment tour! also to clarify I have only ONE mouse and he’s cute 🥰 ♬ original sound - Julia fox Many TikTokers appreciated the authentic nature of the tour. "[You're] a mother that obviously prioritizes your child & it is a beautiful apartment," one user commented. "Love you are showing that success looks different for every person." Another replied, "Love how much of your space is dedicated to your son." And comedian Hannah Berner dubbed Fox "a relatable icon." The "Uncut Gems" star admits they have a "small mouse problem" but adds, "I appreciate that they come out at night while we're sleeping to clean up the crumbs that my son drops on the floor." She has no plans to evict the mice anytime soon. https://www.popsugar.com/family/julia-fox-shows-her-apartment-with-2-year-old-son-49071842?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[deepperplexity]

Deep breath, and stave off the smile, your eyes water when you smile too wide, Plex...

GIIIIIRL! What in the bloody unicorn reindeer was that?! Are you okay? My eardrum damn near burst from that! Gosh, blimey, are you trying to make me deaf you silly-nilly? 😂😉

Also, I'm dying over here, you are so spot on and this essay has me kicking my legs and giggling and my cheeks are now hurting from all the smiling - girl, you got me good with this comment and I literally had to collect myself before answering 'cus this is TOO MUCH JOY IN ONE GO, 'kay? Gosh, you'll give me a heart attack with all this goodness and serotonin overflow! (Not complaining though, nu-uh!)

And THANK YOU for appreciating how much effort I put into my writing, making sure to get the language as right as I possibly can, to play on the time of it all, the character's origin, all of it - gosh, I really feel like it's all worth it when I get comments like this... (I'm not bawling, you are!) this fic really was my best and most intense attempt at the rom-com feel and I did all I could to make you have a really good and fun time but keeping it good at the same time, you know? So this means the world to me... I'm truly so grateful.

And yeah, you know me, I like to do my research, so ofc I'll share the link - if you go on the page and click gallery you can watch a video of most of the places I described too (also, thank you for saying my description was enough for you to see it so clearly!) so you can really feel it (minus the Christmas theme ofc) - I really do try, ya' know? It's worth it, and it makes me so happy to hear it's appreciated 🙈🥰👏

this -> (squints with Anna Lousie as we both are like i get what u mean sir but that's not entirely correct , still love u 😌) HAS ME LAUGHING TOO HARD and I'm so happy you're loving the nicknames, I'm starting to run out of nicknames, gosh, I've used so many nicknames and come up with the oddest of nicknames that work within a certain setting and sounds sweet and natural but it's getting HARD 😅 I'll keep on bringing you nicknames though! I shall endeavour to always please you, darling!

We love cats, and it's not Ferdinand's fault, pour kitty is feral 'cus of her sister's bad treatment - I mean, sure, Anna-Lousie could probably straighten him out but he'll probably always be a bit feral now - let's hope sis keeps him and ahs to deal with the problem she created, eh? 🤭🙈

She is a bit up in the clouds, but, I mean, come on, would you be nosey or just roll with it when assuming you met a very upstanding man who's all shades of kind, gentle and caring, patient and sweet and all things good? I wouldn't rock the boat 👀 No sir, I'll just assume the best until I'm proven otherwise - let me live in my delulu world!

I love a five point essay, you know I'm weak for your commentary darling - for any and all commentary really ❤❤❤ (yeah, I'm such a little slut for comments, not even gonna feel guilty about it, just be appreciative of every word I am gifted) and I'm more than thrilled to see you're so excited! I'M SUPER EXCITED ABOUT THESE TWO TOO! Like, I want to know what happens - I can't write fast enough apparently. I've just spent close to two hours getting back on track with all the comments and reblogs (had the time of my life - it seems the party is 90% on tumblr and not AO3 this year) and I'm gonna try to start writing tomorrow fic as soon s I've replied to this beautiful essay for yours 😘👏 And do feel free to show up at any point to scream at me, just don't make me deaf pretty please, 'kay? 😉

And no! You can't choose both, only one! ONE! Make your choice! And surrender your Christmas to the choice you make, only one shall be accepted or there shall be no Christmas for you - mowahahahahah 😈

Also, your tags... like, you really out there apologising for your essay comment and "plex stays going hard" 😂😂😂😂 Maybe I should apologies for this essay in return too? (Sorry dash, we just be vibing, you see...)

Prompt: 11. Imperfect Holiday [D1]

Pairing: Gruber x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Setting: Train heading north through the English countryside

Continuation of: RICKMAS2022 Prompts 14. Icy Roads & 15. Frosty Glass

A/N: It’s been a year! Well, three days short of a year but still a year! And I’ve had so many messages, lots of asking about Hans and Anna-Louise — how it turns out, if she finds out who he really is, how she reacts to it if so, and everything else. I’m honestly so thrilled this story caught so many darlings’ attention and I’m more than happy to continue this story. As I write this it’s 16.09 the 10th of December and I’ve yet to actually start writing - the past few days have been hectic and my little one has been sick so there’s been need of extra cuddles which hasn’t allowed me to write until now. But I’m excited! (Continuing this note after I’ve written the fic…)

Okay, so, this turned out to be bloody long - again, why do I do this to myself? Especially on days I have so little time 😅👍 I’m very happy with the continuation of this story though, and in true Hans x Anna-Louise spirit, there will be one more part this RICKMAS - two parts, just like last year, and I’ll probably make it tomorrows prompt actually - why not? It matches up well and I’m sure to have a bloody war with the keyboard yesterday as well given I tend to make these fics longer. WORTH IT THOUGH! 🙈👏

Tags/TW’s: Different Lifestyles, Running Away (technically), Self Doubt, Forehead Kisses, Kissing, Caring, Hand Holding, Being Spoiled A Little, Falling In Love, Unmarked One Bed Trope, Motion Sickness, H/C, Patient MMC/Anxious FMC, Following One’s Heart, Secret Identity

Recap of last year’s fics: Anna-Louise (Lulu/Schnuki) Humphrey met Hans Gruber a snowy evening when he pushed her out of the way of an oncoming car while she were slipping around on an icy road in the middle of her run-down hometown. He captivated her with his handsome features and eyes that seemed to truly see her, and he was in turn captivated by her, seeing much potential and sweetness.

When they met again at the little café where Martha (the old lady with a fat dog and a cane she liked to swat at peoples legs) exclaimed him to be a handsome gentleman while Anna-Louise did all she could not to die of embarrassment at the old lady’s choices of conversation they ended up talking about her coming with him. Anna-Louise told Hans that was how to get kidnapped one-o-one but Hans pointed out he felt they were far more than mere strangers.

All her life she had been treated like a nuisance, a person not even worth mentioning by her full name — sometimes just as blabber missy even — and she had longed for years to leave. But she’d been frightened, fearing she’d end up a lonely puddle of anxiety more than anything. Yet, Anna-Louise ended up running to the train station at nine in the evening, hoping he would be there, and of course, he was. They left the poor little town together on the train heading north after sharing a toe-curling embrace where Hans kissed her forehead while calling her Schnuki and his sweet treat…

Word Count: 4.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

The train lurched into action and my stomach dropped. I was a silly-nilly, a delulu Lulu truly. It’s all gone pear-shaped now, hasn’t it? Dad won’t make it without me, sis will be a furious mess for him to deal with when Ferdinand’s litter box needs cleaning and when he needs his weekly bath with the oils and nobody will do the laundry, and the bins, it’ll pile over and— But my eyes went to Hans at that moment — sitting opposite me in a private cabin with red chequered seating and walnut furnish — and my rampant thoughts calmed down.

He watched me, his undivided attention fully on me. I wanted to squirm under his clear eyes yet I remained still, feeling wholly seen and wanted by that mere look of his. “Is my mind in a hoax with my eyes?” he asked, making me scrunch my brows. “I can’t believe you are actually sitting there, here, with me.” My cheeks burned at his words, spoken in that German accent of his. “I can’t believe it myself to be honest. I feel… Stupid.” “Stupid?” he asked, his eyes widening while his brows shot up. “This is a thing of romance movies and hostage situations, perhaps a police chase movie with bombs and exploding train tracks that’ll force the passengers to jump into the snow at break-neck speeds and run for their lives or—” I clamped my mouth shut. “Sorry, rambling again…”

Hans tilted his head, one leg crossed over the other with his coat only resting atop his shoulders, watching me with a small smirk. He was too bloody handsome. My very bones felt warmed by that daftly charming smirk. It wasn’t as devastatingly chaos-wrecking as his smile though. I liked both equally either way.

“You are worried, no?” he asked. “Worried?” “Well, you said it yourself, we are strangers and it is kidnapping one-o-one for a woman not to go anywhere with a stranger, especially a man. Yet,” he held out his hands, “here you are. Having boarded a train taking you anywhere.” The fact he remembered exactly what I’d said had my heart performing a stutter before my mind kicked into gear. “Not anywhere, last station is Durham, I’ve wanted to take this train many times. Not that I ever thought I would, I kept track, pun not intended mind you, but I never thought I’d actually get on, you know? Where would I go? I have nowhere to go, never had anywhere to go, and why would I leave when my family needs me,” I rambled on, my nerves getting the better of me again. Stop, stop, just, stop, or he’ll kick you off the train before you can say you’re a blabber missy. God, I’m so annoying.

“Well, you are correct, schnuki. The last station is Durham. The rest of your words, I can’t deem as right.” “What? Why?” “You have everywhere to go, many things to see and experience. Your family treats you poorly and I, for one, do not accept someone as bright and sweet as you to be kept bound to such a terrible fate. Cat claws and mints, doing other people’s bidding at all times.” He watched me most intently as he spoke, goosebumps travelled down my spine when he spoke of doing other people’s bidding, the words felt two-fold for some reason I couldn’t wrap my thought-riddled head around.

“You’re rather blunt, you know.” I thought that from the very start so maybe it’s a trait of his? Or a German thing? Martha would have a field day if he were to join for crisply burnt biscuits and cold tea next Thurs— Ah, right… “Schnuki?” I shook my head to focus on the man and not my bloody overwhelming thoughts. “Are you well?” he continued. “S-sorry, just, lots of thoughts.” “Speak them,” he said, leaning back and getting comfortable (at least it looked like it).

I blinked at him for a moment, my hand squeezing the edge of my duffel bag beside me while I did all I could not to weep at those words. He probably thought little of them, but they had me gobsmacked. “Speak them?” “Yes, you know, say them out loud. Is that not the term in England? Works fine in America.” I chuckled while my entire face heated. “Yeah, sure, it’s right but… I talk enough as it is.” “I doubt you could ever talk enough, schnuki,” he said with a deep chuckle.

My face sank, my shoulders slouched and I felt a million utterances of blabber missy and shut it, Lulu attack me from within. From the past. The very, very recent past. But Hans wasn’t like that, he wasn’t some prick spilling poppycock into my ear or forcing me to do something I didn’t want to do. No, he made me do something I’d dreamt myself blue about.

The plush bench beneath me sank on my left side, Hans sat right next to me and I hadn’t even noticed he’d moved. His hand enveloped mine, my eyes turned wide while he squeezed my still-scratched-up skin — Ferdinand was probably at the top of the tree now, swatting at tinsel and knocking off the star at the top while I was nowhere in sight and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel knowing the feral kitty wouldn’t be fully cared for. Would he end up on the street or could I at least count on sis keeping him, and feeding him?

“You are brave, my sweet treat,” Hans said. “I will not allow you to squander your life away any longer, understand me?” he continued and I gulped down a breath before nodding, my constant stream of words quiet for the moment. My insides were in shambles over the sudden close contact though, he was so warm, and he smelt like mint— No, not mint, menthol. Menthol and ginger, and something… something else I’ve never smelt before. “Speak those thoughts,” Hans said beside me. “You smell good,” I blurted out without thinking first.

My ears were given a cacophony of his laugh, deep and rumblingly loud — it was perfect. “You smell like a treat,” Hans said and smiled at me after he’d stopped laughing. “A sweet treat.” “Oh, it’s my shower gel, it’s scented like gingerbread cookies.” “Ah, yes, that’s the smell, partly at least. There’s more to it though.” “More?” “Yes, something incredibly sweet,” Hans continued and we fell silent as our eyes locked. His were so clear, so open, and endlessly bright with sprinkles of grey within the blue I hadn’t noticed before. Blimey, you’re perfection… “I’d say that’s you,” he said softly and I blinked. “Did-, did I say that aloud?” He chuckled and leaned in, kissing my temple, while he rumbled a deep “yes”.

My cheeks burned, feeling bloody mortified and flustered. “Oh,” I managed and he squeezed my hand. “You have the brightest of voices, schnuki. Speak as much as you need,” he assured and what on earth was I supposed to think of that? Nobody had ever said such a thing before, my voice was annoying and far too shrill, and used too often too — ask anyone, I’m a blabbering nuisance.

We fell into a stiff silence, but he never let go of my hand and the train chugged onward toward the north with the winter wonderland hidden in darkness outside the window only reflecting the inside of the space we sat in. Hans urged me to get some sleep, we were apparently a few hours away from our stop, but how could I possibly sleep with adrenaline and nerves turning me into a mess? I felt a sandwich short of a picnic, as if I’d gone completely bonkers — the entire situation was madness, and what if it all went to pot? Dad and sis would take the Mickey out of me if I returned home after a few days, they’d know I tried to get away and have a laugh at my uselessness…

Hans had already drifted off to sleep beside me, his hand softly clasped around my smaller one while my entire body gravitated toward his. He was warm, sturdy, and I couldn’t help but lean against him while my eyelids drooped. It was close to midnight I think when I finally dozed off, my head still spinning with questions and worries of all kinds.

***

Hans called my name just as I chased Ferdinand through the house to snag him up in a towel after his weekly bath. He hissed and roared in a manner no kitty was ever supposed to, I clamped down on him, rubbing with the towel when Hans called my name again. My home evaporated and I found myself back on the train, clamping down on Hans’ hand too harshly. I let go and scooted to the side a bit.

“Dreams?” “Just, yeah, Ferdinand needed a bath and I had to dry him and rub him with a— Oh, you don’t need to know that, sorry,” I said while my voice went from hoarse to its usual state. “The cat?” “Yeah, right, sis’ cat. He’s a feral thing, he’s sweet, but he’s… Sorry…” He nodded and reached out to grab my hand anew, little indents from my nails littered his skin, just beneath his knuckles. “I’m sorry, I-, I didn’t mean to scratch you.” “This?” he asked, holding our joined hands up. “It’s nothing, don’t fret over it, sweet treat,” he continued and kissed my fingers one at a time — I was sent into a burning heaven of warmth by the action.

The train came to a halt and my sluggish brain went into overdrive again as Hans let go of me and stood. “This is us,” he said and the speakers sparked to life with a woman saying “Darlington Station” and then repeated it once more. “We’re off here?” I asked and he nodded while grabbing my bag for me. He had no luggage at all it seemed.

My nose wrinkled at the sight, he walked ahead of me as the doors were too narrow for us both to go through and the lane just as tight. My bag looked beyond cheap when slung over his shoulder dressed with a seemingly incredibly expensive coat, and the Oxfords on his feet paired with the grey linen trousers matched so perfectly that my bag stood out like a ragged reindeer among Arabian horses.

He took my hand the moment we stepped off the train, the station lay nearly deserted so there was no need to stick close yet he kept me right by his side. “I can carry that myself, you know,” I said and he nearly glared at me. “No.” “I’m perfectly capable—” “I’m aware, but just because a lady is capable doesn’t mean she should. You should know how to change a tire, but you shouldn’t have to do it. You are perfectly capable of carrying your bag, but I will not allow it when I can do such a thing for you, schnuki.” “O-oh…” I whispered, my cheeks once more burning hot while he smirked at me and squeezed my hand.

We moved across the street to a car park with snow crunching beneath our feet. Hans released my hand and bent down by a gorgeous car — it was sleek and maroon blue with an air of richness to it. It looked like it hadn’t been parked there for very long though. He dragged his hand by the wheel and produced a set of keys.

“This is yours?” “Rental,” he said. “Allow me.” He opened the passenger door like a gentleman and I slunk inside, keeping my feet outside the door to dunk them against each other not to drag in more snow than needed. The creamy leather smelled divine even if it were terribly cold, my old jeans did little to keep the chill of the seat from crawling into my skin and up my spine while Hans dropped my bag in the trunk and slid into the driver’s side.

The engine purred to life and I buckled up. “Good girl,” he said and gave the strap over my upper body a tug, cinching it across my middle at the same time. “There, perfectly strapped,” he continued with a cheeky grin and began backing out of the lot while I gaped at him.

Hans drove with skill and ease, weaving through the streets, taking several turns along smaller ones with tightly packed buildings dressed in Christmas lights standing on each side before the open road lay before us and my eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. Should have grabbed my motion sickness patches, I thought while my stomach protested and the back of my mouth filled with saliva I struggled to swallow.

“Are we driving far?” I asked, my voice quieter than usual as I gripped the car door to make my body feel a bit more stable, it usually helped the motion sickness a wee bit at least. “Twenty minutes, given the roads are clear. Why?” Hans glanced toward me and his eyes widened. I was probably a bit pale. “Motion sickness,” I said, slightly shamed by being a nuisance once more. “I’ll drive as steadily as I can. Is it speed, turns or the motion in general?” he asked and I gaped at him, feeling like my jaw got too much exercise since I met him. The care and interest he showed in everything regarding me was insane. “Acceleration and unsteadiness,” I confirmed to be the worst parts for me. “But you drive really well.” “I’ll do my best to keep steady, schnuki.”

Hans eventually slowed down when we entered a narrower street lined by giant trees void of greenery. It was still pretty though. “Here we are,” he said and steadily slowed down before making a smooth turn into a giant estate with several brick buildings. It was absolutely beautiful but truth be told I just wanted out of the car to breathe some fresh are and stave off the motion sickness. The red sign at the end of the driveway dressed with garlands and twinkling lights said Headlam Hall, Rural Resort & Spa in golden letters.

I was out the door as soon as the car stood still. Hans came around and stroked my back a few seconds later while I breathed deeply to take away the worst illness. The fresh air was wonderfully clean and crisp. A faint scent of cinnamon and hay lingered within it and I honestly couldn’t say I disliked that particular smell. Smelled like Christmas on the countryside.

“Are you alright?” he asked gently, his care beyond sweet. “Yeah, just need some air, it’ll pass in a few minutes. Sorry for being such a nuisance, Hans.” “Don’t say such a thing.” He looked almost offended at the words. “What thing?” “You are in no way a nuisance. Had I known I would have procured some pills for you.” “That’s my responsibility, I have patches at home, crazy how well they work for me without side effects. Should have grabbed them, but I packed so fast. Martha got them for me, some Chinese shop had them when she was in London visiting her sister. They’re bloody brilliant really, the pills always make me drowsy for over a day, and I— Oh, sorry, rambling,” I said and stopped myself from spewing more unnecessary words by taking a deep breath. “Stop gifting me words in your sweet voice only to apologize for it,” Hans said gently and kissed my temple. I shivered in my thin, tattered jacket and he fetched my bag while I tried to steady my legs — if it were his sweetness or the motion sickness making me wobbly I couldn’t really tell.

I was in some form of an awed daze while Hans led me inside the three-story brick building covered in vines that still held their leaves even in winter. The building was beautifully decorated with fairy lights around windows and the roof, with a blanket of snow all around it looked like it was taken out of one of those Christmas rom-coms where they needed to save the inn only to end up falling in love and living happily ever after (after some sappy words or cringe-worthy kissing scene).

The reception area was spotless, a beautiful mix of modern and classic English style that made me feel completely misplaced. It was rich, luxurious, and far beyond anything I’d ever dreamt of experiencing up close. Unlike the little café in my hometown with its tacky santas, plastic garlands, and altogether jumbled decorations this place was stunningly decorated in red and gold with real trees and boughs. I felt truly out of my depth. But Hans, well, he moved with an air of belonging to him, his strides confident and his whole look made it feel as if it were an obvious thing he belonged in such surroundings.

I kept looking around, nearly twisting my neck off to see without moving my legs, and Hans got our room sorted and declined any attempts of the receptionist to ring for someone to show him to it. He ended up leading us through the building, past a modern bar with a burning fireplace and sitting area next to it, through a big room with several seating areas, up some stairs, and through some hallways. It was as if he knew where he was going, as if he’d been there before. I merely followed like a lost puppy.

The room was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous with hints of tweed fabric, deeply rich wooden furnishing, and pale beige and white fabrics that soften it all. Tasteful Christmas decorations were placed in perfect spots and there was even a little hearth in the room, with two winged-backed chairs and a little table in front of it as well as two stockings hanging from the mantel. The giant four-poster bed screamed for me to lay down but the bathroom off to the side called for me even more.

Hans came up behind me, setting my bag on the floor before wrapping me in his arms, holding my back toward his front while my heart hammered as if I were some silly little schoolgirl with an irrevocable crush and filled with unruly hormones. “How about a bath before bed?” he rumbled by my ear and I nodded, lost for words by how closely he held me. “I’ll sort the room and you go relax, schnuki. Take a bath, and then we’ll turn in for the night.” “Sounds good,” I managed to say while he kissed my temple quickly before letting me go.

I ended up taking a long shower rather than a bath. I was too tired to wait for the tub to fill and it felt like a waste when I hadn’t the energy to really enjoy a long soaking. Hans didn’t bother me, even if I had left the door unlocked. As I dried my hair, while wrapped in the lushest of white robes, my tired body began to tremble. My hands worst of all while my legs felt like overcooked spaghetti strings beneath me.

I sank down on the chair by the claw-footed tub, squeezing the towel in my hands to try and stop the shaking. I left. I really left. And I’m in a spa resort, with a German bloke I don’t know. I’m a bloody moron for all of this. Am I completely daft? I’m usually not some muppet, but this is beyond stupid. I can’t even get home if I want to, not that I want to. I don’t want to, why don’t I want to go home? Shouldn’t I want to be with my family and all that good old hometown fluffing people always talk about? Especially during Christmas no matter that I know it would be a more than imperfect holiday, a disaster as usual, with things for all others and none for me but those from Santa that really are just from me to me. I'd probably end up wailing in bed with my face pressed into the damn pillow, just like every year...

A knock at the door interrupted my, rambling, pittyfull thoughts. “Yeah?” “Are you dressed?” he asked. “I’m in a robe.” The door opened the next second and I did all I bloody could to stop my hands from shaking and my face from betraying my anxious state. “Schnuki, my sweet treat, are you alright?” Hans asked while he stepped up to me, sinking to one knee while wrapping up my hands, still holding the wet towel, in his. “I’m— Well— I am, I am but, I’m not. I should be, and I am, but not really no.” I made no sense.

“Let’s get you to bed, you need sleep. Did you eat before meeting me?” “No, no Dad had his pals for poker and sis had me running to the shop for a new lipstick and then I packed, and I tried to make sure Ferdinand would have enough food and I did his litter box, cleaned it fully and put new sand and everything and I took out the trash and started a load of laundry and then I packed, and I cleaned my room and stripped the bed so—” “Schnuki, my sweet treat, calm down for me,” he said and cupped my face with his hands, his eyes holding mine steadily while I stopped rambling; in a rush to explain myself to the best of my capabilities so he would understand why I hadn’t eaten.

“There’s a silk pyjama on the bed for you,” he said, talking softly as if I were some delicate thing needing gentle care. “I’ll order some room service and you’ll eat before we sleep. Eggs and bacon, sound good?” “Y-yeah,” I exhaled, feeling all degrees of spoiled and pampered, cared for, and baffled by the warmth it filled my stupidly thundering heart with. I’m such a silly-nilly… I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been right two days ago, about Christmas being the time for kindness and care, perhaps this Christmas would be one like that for me?

“Alright then. I need to make a call, I’ll be on the balcony.” “There’s a balcony?” I asked, my eyes widening, and he smirked with a cheeky look. “We’ll have breakfast with blankets out there tomorrow, sound good? The view is fantastic you see.” “Oh, oh yeah, sounds brilliant,” I replied and he kissed my forehead most softly before leaving me to dry off my hair completely. That I wished to know what those lips felt like against my own was a thought I couldn’t quite get to pipe down. I bet he’s brilliant at kissing, nothing like Bobby Parker… I shuddered at the memory of my first kiss, and soon enough my mind ping-ponged like a rabbit between holes in the ground with memories of the kisses I’d had in life.

Bloody hell, I’ve had terrible luck in the love department… Well, the kissing department, I’ve never fallen in love with anyone. Maybe it’s all the blokes unable to kiss making me unable to fall in love. But I knew it was a place thing, rather than anything else. Living in a tiny town had few options lining themselves up, and with my sis being the pretty and popular one I stood even less of a chance. Every bloke I’d ever kissed she’d already been pawing in one way or another only to lose interest.

I hung the towel to dry and left the bathroom only to see the lilac-coloured pyjama set of silk on the giant bed. It looked like pure luxury. I’m supposed to wear that? I couldn’t do it, so I rummaged around in my bag for my old flannel pyjama bottoms and my old Bowie tee washed out completely and worn at the seams with a little hole right where I always fiddled with the hem. I glanced at the lilac silk once more before scurrying back into the bathroom and changing.

I walked over to the balcony door, finding Hans pacing on the other side of the glass in just his linen trousers and white shirt, his red tie still firmly secured too. He looked good enough to eat whole. Don’t be daft, Lulu…

As he paced back and forth I could hear a muffled snippet of his conversation every time he was close to the door. Words of stocks and vaults, then words of exits and insurances. Perhaps he worked on the stock market? Or a bank? He looked the part, like one of those Wall Street blokes you’d see on TV from time to time. Just, less dishevelled and without the crazed look of rapid exchanges needing one’s full attention.

“We will be in and out in four minutes,” he said while stopping with his back toward the door. I saw him fully through the sheer curtains but he hadn’t taken any notice of me. “Alex can crack it, Henry will be in the car and it’ll be smooth sailing. I’m close to Newcastle, picked up a little something special on the way so I’m a day late and will be two days late getting there. Can I trust you to handle getting the team set up and ready to go in four days? Friday’s are checking days, it’ll be stocked.” I wasn’t sure what the bloody hell I was hearing but it sounded important. His voice was so much harder than when he spoke to me, and clipped in a different way entirely. The sweetness and care had vanished, leaving only a decisive deep voice behind. A commanding one at that.

He ended the call and I scurried back to my bag, rummaging through it, pretending to search for something when the door opened and closed behind me. For some daft reason, I wasn’t scared despite the red flag of him being so different on the phone. Nothing about Hans scared me, not even being in the dark about who he was. He was Hans, he cared and he listened. He tended to me and took me away from the place I’d been dreaming of escaping for years but never dared to leave. He saved my life the very first time we met. I don’t know anyone who’d put themselves in harm’s way for others… Especially not any stranger in the middle of the road.

“Schnuki, what’s this?” he asked and I half turned my head, still kneeling on the floor by the foot of the bed with my hands in my bags. “Do you not like my present for you?” he asked with a glance toward the pyjama set. “You bought them?” I asked while straightening, abandoning my pretend hunt. “Yes.” When? “I love them,” I confessed. “But I can’t wear that.” “ That ? Something wrong with them?” “No, no! They’re perfect and pretty and super soft and a beautiful colour and everything,” I rushed out. “They’re just… expensive looking. I don’t wanna ruin them, you know?” “Ruin them? By wearing them as intended?” Sure, when you say it like that it sounds as silly as a goose having shoes and a bonnet.

Hans stepped closer, his eyes roaming over my form hidden beneath the loose, tattered fabric I wore. He tugged me into his arms and I gasped at the sudden closeness. He was still so warm, despite having been out in the cold English winter for several minutes. “Anna-Louise,” he said gently, “you ought to get accustomed to wearing fancy things, and eating good food, being in luxurious surroundings. I won’t have you in anything less than that.” “Hans… What-, what do you mean? I’m perfectly fine with way less, I don’t need all that fancy stuff. I’m used to—” “You’ll get used to better things quickly enough, schnuki,” he interrupted. “Hans, we barely know each other, you can’t lavish me with things like that.” “Don’t say such a thing.” “That I don’t want to be lavished upon like some fancy old lady sitting in parlours sipping tea in expensive silk while waiting for her dear husband to return home from some overseas journey?” I joked while giggling, but he didn’t laugh. “Hans?” “I do a lot of business overseas, would it be terrible of me to wish to come home to you, waiting in pretty silk, after each trip?”

He took a step back while I tried to take in what he’d said. Our eyes locked together and I damn near couldn’t breathe as he looked at me with such longing. “In pretty silk?” I whispered, wholly overwhelmed and wondering what kind of rich man I’d stumbled upon. “All finery imaginable,” he said with a nod. “Why would you want me?” I asked, for the first time posing the question which had been bugging me for a long time without me realising it. “Why would I not want you?” he asked, but before I could ramble a number of reasons, he kissed me.

I melted. He kissed me softly but with urgency, his thin lips perfect against mine. He kissed me so well my foot came off the bloody floor like in a sappy romance movie, I couldn’t help it. Fireworks exploded in my veins, my mind turned utterly quiet and nothing in the world mattered but him holding me close, kissing me with passion and longing leaking out of him with a dark hum while his arms tightened around me.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh boy... this really did turn out to be quite long but gosh I love these two so much I can't help but wanting to write for them - and it's just too much fun too 😂👏 I hope you enjoyed the continuation of this story from last year and as I said above there will be one more part to this story tomorrow! Hope you're excited for even more of these two and the secrets they carry along with the love that's flourishing between them 🥰❤

Q: Would you rather spend Christmas at a big resort, with all amenities, or a small town in a picturesque cottage? 🎄 A: I'll take the cottage - I do love those cosy vibes and I don't mind having to stoke a fire and wear an extra jumper and socks 🥰

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[Dec:2023]

[mvrtaiswriting]

Omg I absolutely love what you wrote for my first request. I'm not sure if it's okay to request another if not please disregard this. But may I request prompt 6 or 14 (whichever inspires you more because I couldn't decide which I liked more) with Luffy or Ace. 🥰please 🙏 and thank you🥰

Ace x prompt 6: staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in.

hiii ♡ sorry this took so long, I tried to prioritise other people's request to ensure fairness - I hope you don't mind! I didnt write anything in the past week apart from academic papers and my creative writing feels rusty again - I hate it. I chose Ace for this one cause I already wrote loads for luffy and my boy deserves some love. I hope you enjoy this one! please do let me know what you think, I hope it meets your expectations!!

gender neutral! minor injury mention

feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.- from this event.

Ace was not able to pinpoint the exact moment he started thinking so much about you.

Memories of you crowded his mind; both hemispheres of his brain now felt like museums' corridors, both of their walls full of artworks of your best smile, of the tiny scrunch that formed on the bridge of your nose every time you drunk his favourite liquor and its alcohol burned your throat. The moments that the two of you shared were the most precious and he kept relieving them, replaying them right before his eyes - causing him to zone out constantly. The thought of you drove him insane, Ace simply couldn't escape - he dreamt about you all the time, regardless of him being asleep or awake.

The sting of the disinfectant you applied on the tiny cut on his eyebrow brought him back to reality. You were so close to him and he could not help but get lost in his thoughts, whilst your scent completely invaded his senses.

"Ouch." he whined as a little smile formed on his lips. "You could have warned me!"

"I did?" you replied, shrugging your shoulders. "you just. never. listen." you added, emphasising every word by tapping on his wound with the little cotton pad you were using.

Sighing in response, Ace bit his lip and let you continue. There wasn't much he could say, it was true - he was never really there, living the moment: his mind constantly wondered around, every sort of scenario taking place in his mind. His brain was completely controlled by this insatiable hunger he felt towards you. He wanted to play with your hair and cuddle you to sleep and he wanted your filthiest side. Having you sitting right on his knee didn't help him, at all. Your face was so close to his he could feel your breath warming his soft skin, strand of your hair falling on his face and tickling him only slightly. Ace couldn't help but stare at your lips, how plumped they look and how delicate they would feel on his.

Applying a band-aid onto his wound, you finally moved away from his face. You could feel him staring, he had been doing it for a while now - his eyes felt like daggers, piercing through you and causing you to blush every damn time. Biting your lips, you quickly scanned his face, just to stare at his lips - instinctively mirroring him. Butterflies completely took over your stomach. Your body acted faster than your thoughts and before you could realise it, you were already leaning towards him, lips almost brushing. Adrenaline built in your veins as you get closer to him, your heart beating so fast you thought it could explode. Was this right?

"Yep. All done, you'll be fine!" you screamed happily, your hands still shaking as you move away from his face once again. Every fibre of your body wanted to make Ace yours, aching every time his fingers touched your skin, needy for more. But the tiny, sadistic voice inside your head made you realise just how much you enjoyed the chase. You wanted him to crave you - if this wasn't all in your head, he should have done more than that.

Ace shook his head, trying to recover from what just happened. One second you were almost kissing him, the other you're slipping out of his grip. Wrapping his arms around your torso, he stopped you from getting away and adjusted you on his knee once again. A wide smirk formed on his face as he finally locked his eyes on you.

"Nah, where do you think you're going?" he laughs, leaning closer to you and brushing his nose against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. "Stop playing around. You know what it does to me." he whispered, lips now brushing against your neck. He was at his limit, letting his passion take over his body.

"Oh, finally tired of staring?" you teased, lifting his face up by putting your index finger under his chin - he looked heavenly as he completely hanged from your lips, metaphorically and not. A small laugh escaped his lips as he finally gave in, pressing his lips against your and kissing you fiercely. Feeling as if he had been wandering in the desert for all this time, Ace finally able to satisfy his thirst.

[aclosetfan]

im so annoyed i can’t send asks from my fan acc bc it aint my main acc but i don’t want to be anonymous so i will send this before i can chicken out!

you are my favorite writer in the whole fandom and honestly i’m really surprised you don’t have more followers! people should stop sleeping on you!!

still, i’m really happy that you got 100 followers now! you deserve every single one of them and more!!

“are you busy? can i talk to you for a moment?” with Professor and Buttercup, if you’d like it but you can just write random stuff and i would love it anyway

i’m @buttercupistough btw,,, ITS SO ANNOYING I CANT SEND ASKS FROM THERE BUT OH WELL- i will say it again: i love your work!!

idk why i feel so shy sending this omg😭

Since you're both basically asking for the same prompt, I consolidated, but don't worry, since there's two of you, you get special bonus sentences :)

first off, to the anon, thank you so much!!

Second off, specifically to @buttercupistough, it means a lot to me that you came off anon to say such kind words! I know how bad it sucks with the main account issues. I deal with the same thing all the time because this fan blog is my side blog 😂😅 I’ve replied to comments from my main and have had people be like, wait, who are you!? Lmao

Thank you again for your lovely comments! You're so sweet! I really appreciate it 🥰 I love your blog, I think all of your incorrect quote posts/jokes are absolutely hilarious, and I really see and enjoy the love and effort you put into all your fics!!!

Anyway, onto the prompt! I’m so happy people requested family fluff. It’s my favorite kind :) anyway, I feel Buttercup would be around 7 or 8 in this one.

Prompt game rules here; prompt list here

—————————————————

“Any man can be a father; it takes someone special to be a dad.” --unknown

"Hey, daaadd,” Buttercup zoomed as fast as she could into the house and began bunny hopping down the stairs to the lab, punctuating each landing with a “Dad! Dad! Dad! DAD!”

"Buttercup!" Frantically, the Professor pushed his safety glasses atop his head and rushed to the bottom of the stairs, already looking Buttercup over for any sign of trouble, "What's wrong! Are you okay?"

She cleared her throat awkwardly, toeing the ground, and the Professor watched her confident, bright smile fade into something shy as she hesitated climbing down those last few steps.

“Uh, dad—“ Buttercup had always thought the word dad felt weird on her tongue; to her, he was usually just the Professor, “can I, uh—are you busy? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Of course, spice cake," Professor nodded seriously, concern still etched across his face as he squatted down to her eye-level, "always."

"Well, uh," Buttercup began, eyes trained on the railing of the stairway, tracing the tiny swirly patterns carved in the wood with her finger, "I was sorta wondering—" She shrugged, "—I dunno, all the other kids at school call their dads dad, and I was thinking, you know, if it was cool with you that instead of calling you the Professor all the time and stuff, I could call you dad too—maybe?"

After a heavy moment of silence, Buttercup's face began to burn with shame and embarrassment. "You can just say no alread—" She scowled, but the upset glare she shot him was quickly replaced with panic, "—Professor! Why are you crying!?"

"I-I think I'd like that a lot," The Prof—no wait, her dad, explained through a watery smile, "I'd like that very much, you calling me dad."

The only time I remember someone canonically calling the Professor "dad" was Mojo (multiple times) and Bubbles (once in the movie). Isn't that crazy? I feel these moments would be very special to him.

[murieltheawful]

Hi! For the fic ask game, hit me with 1, 2, 7, 9 and 11! 😀 (or however many you want if it's too much)

Oh hi!

I will try to reply to them all)

1. What part of the writing process is the most enjoyable?

I think it's writing when I hit the flow. It's just so great when the things just happen in your mind, and you need to type them down as quick as possible. I also like to make a final re-read and feel that yes, this is great, I did well. And I can't wait to post it on Ao3.

2. Talk about a favorite comment you received.

There were a lot of great comments in my life as a ficwriter. I have been blessed 💕

But what I cherish are the series of comments from two people who went through my works and commented on every chapter using quotes. It made me feel acknowledged and appreciated. I am friends with both now, btw.

I also love thoughtful comments, the ones that make me go, "Oh, yes, you get it! YOU GET IT YES, it's exactly what I meant".

I have a recent example of what a lovely comment might look. It goes, "You incredible maniac of a writer I am caught hook line and sinker for this masterpiece of dark themes wrapped in comedy and crack" 🥰🐭

Seriously, this shit is addictive.

7. What do you love most about being a fic writer for your fandom?

A question that made me stop and stare in the distance. It's not simple!

I am currently active in the Hockey RPF fandom. I am a part of Hockeyblr. But I don't write Hockey RPF fics myself. One exclusion: I wrote a short lil thing about my favourite hockey player, with fantasy elements that was gen and had no shipping in it. I got encouraging comments, people found it cute and funny, just as I hoped.

I want to say that I like being a part of Hockeyblr on the whole. People have been exceedingly nice and helpful, always ready to answer my rookie questions and talk about my boys.

The last fandom I wrote for was Hades game, I guess. The comments were nice, but there were not many of them. Which is a pity, I want more comments, hehe. So, nothing much to say about it.

9. What inspired you to write your first fic?

Honestly? Horniness.

If I go into detail, I was reading a lot of doujinshis (fan-made manga about any media, often of the horny type) and fics about the Haikyuu anime. I also searched for fanarts, obviously. I had two favourite characters, and I shipped them. One night, my head offered me a plot where one of these characters cheats on the other with a person from another pairing. And it was angsty. The next day, I decided I should write it down. Which I did. It didn't go according to my fantasy and ended up being a poly-ship with four participants set in an angel-demon world. 🐭

Oh, no, wait! It was my second fic. The first one was about that same favourite couple, and I had them kidnapped 🤗 and abused ❣️ I was horny, and the fanarts were my fuel 🥰

Actually, thanks to fanfiction I got back into writing after years of doing nothing. I had this one original work that I was working on for years, and I could neither finish it nor shove it aside. And I didn't allow myself to write anything else while that work was still not over with. Until fanfiction happened.

Writing fics took the pressure off, and I was able to practice and get better (and return to writing original works, too).

11. Who is your favorite character(s) to write about and why?

Uhm. They change? From fandom to fandom?

I loved writing Kuroo Tetsurou from Haikyuu (I loved hurting him in all the ways 🥰). I loved writing Keith from Voltron Legendary Defender (with him, it was hurt/comfort all the way). While I write, I like writing my main character the most.

Right now, I also have a Spideypool fic in progress. To make it clear, I am a fan of neither, but my friend wrote an amazing fic about them that I loved (there were dragons!! And smut! And forced marriage! And smut! And did I mention dragons???") and inspired me to write a very specific AU about Wade Wilson.

Turned out, I LOVE writing Deadpool. I didn't enjoy the films about him but I usually enjoyed reading fics about him. Actually, his craziness and generally chaotic logic are so right for me! The more chaotic, the better. There's so much to Wade in the original series, that you can spin him a myriad of ways. So much artistic freedom! 🐭

That would be it! It was fun to talk about my fandom history and present.

Thanks for asking 🤗

[inkofyoonkoo]

hii vale i hope you’re doing well. ❤️❤️❤️ i really want to thank you for updating your stories for us, interacting with us, and letting us know what’s been going on. i really do wish you will find ease and light soon during this time. i understand how you are feeling and i hope you know we will support you no matter what. as an introvert myself, i find it hard with interaction and self expression but i really want to commend you on telling us how you’ve been feeling lately. ❤️❤️❤️i hope you know that you’re self care comes first no matter what, and i’m glad you’re taking time to reflect upon that. i’m really not the best at giving words of comfort but i just want to let you know that you have given me so much comfort and joy since i found you. sometimes i read a chapter and i’m just in wow by what happens and then i forget to show my appreciation, but please know i do i love you so much and also love your stories so much. and i hope you know you are funny and friendly, and have created a nice environment. you’re also extremely intelligent and unique it leaves me speechless 😍😍😍😍you’re feelings will always be valid 100% and i hope you know how much of an amazing person you are. thank you from the bottom of my heart!!! love you and hope your days are brighter!!!☀️☀️☀️☀️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hi my lovely! Yes, I'm doing fine -just stressed because real life is pretty demanding lately, but it's all good! I hope you're doing well and that life is treating you nicely 💕

Thank you for sending me this lovely message and for being supportive over my decision! Believe me, it was bugging me for months, to the point that I also expressed out loud multiple times my desire to cut ties, but I always felt in the wrong because I was lucky enough to a have a very few people who truly loved my stories; and going away sounded like: "You know? I don't care about you. I want more." when it's not like this. I was and I'm forever grateful to the people who were and are always kind toward me (treating me not only as a "writer", but like a person too) and that's why I preferred moving to another blog. On a side, I know that I can't expect from people to be my beck-and-call (I don't even want it) and I was really happy with the only interaction of the very few people who stuck with me; but I really felt like a "machine" lately. I don't know... as a content creator, I should be happy with the number of following increasing day by day, "likes" raining on every single story on my masterlist; but the general silence made me feel like I was "necessary" only to post my works -but, at the same time, they weren't worth a comment. As already stated, I'm the one to be blamed for the general lack of interaction -but I noticed that even if I tried to build it through "ask-games" or posting new teasers or such, feedback was almost non-existent (especially since I stopped posting YATO, or since I vocalized how lack of feedback was hurting me). In all of this, I realized that there were writers who were able to create a nice environment in the span of a very few months; while I couldn't do almost anything in three years...

I'm convinced I took the right decision. Honestly, I'm still jumping into my old blog because I'm still doing some things there and, I mean, people still put "likes" on my stories and follow me -even if there's a post clearly stating that it's not my intention to keep going. I can't control people, but I can control my actions and take care of my mood. And this is the best thing I could do 😊

All this long reply just to express better my POV, and to say that I truly appreciate your kind words! They gave me lot of comfort, don't worry, and it actually warms my heart to know that my stories could give you joy 🥰 Also, thanks for your compliments toward me as a person! I don't really consider myself funny or friendly, and probably these three years helped to radicate in me this belief, but I'm truly happy if you think the contrary ❤ (as for being intelligent and unique... YOU’RE WAY TOO KIND NOW. BELIEVE ME, I’M NOT. I TEND TO BE THE MOST IGNORANT AND THE DUMBEST AND INVISIBLE AMIDST PEOPLE). Thank you so much for being so sweet! You’re amazing and I’m truly happy to have you here ❤ Sending you my love and wish you all the best 🌻 ❤ 🌻 ❤

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

Silky! First, your stories and writings are amazing and INTELLIGENT! They have so much depth and the characters aren’t interchangeably generic!! Second, of course the same with your commentary and thoughts—always intelligent and worthwhile. When you disagree it’s not to be petulant and disagreeing for the sake of disagreement, which I appreciate. For example, I too, was very underwhelmed about the Gucci sex scene. But I hadn’t read the book. I was judging it as a scene itself—and especially bc so many people hyped it up. But I really enjoyed reading your critique and commentary through the contextual lens of the book on which the movie was based. Finally, I have to say again that your comments and replies are always very kind. You don’t dismiss people even if you disagree. Btw, I happen to enjoy Maurizio Gucci’s look bc I prefer AD clean shaven, though I wish his hair wasn’t quite so floppy and I could do without the glasses but whatever I will take what I can get. But I feel on your blog and as your follower I can voice this even though I know you don’t enjoy Maurizio Powers haha, bc you and your blog space is very welcoming and kind. On the flip side, I admit that while I enjoy any AD content, Jacques aesthetically usually is not my first preference (though depends on my mood) but what I adore is falling in love with a character that an author has created. It isn’t so much about the aesthetics of Jacques or Maurizio in the end, for me, so much as how an author has written them and reimagined them. And you do it so well for Jacques that I enjoy being taken on the adventure you created and falling for this character. That is all credit to YOU, not the movie. So I don’t know why some people would be offended or annoyed if another person in the fandom does or does not enjoy an AD movie or an AD character as portrayed in the movie. Who cares? It would be boring if we all liked the same things. And they’re all meant to be for fun anyway. In the end it’s with a specific author’s rendering of a character that we fall in love with anyway. And I think we as a fandom are all the richer for it, for the diversity and intelligence and creativity that authors such as yourself bring. - 📖

My dear 📖❤️

Thank you so much, I adore an ask that I can sink my teeth into 🥰

And if you didn't just hit on two of my primary considerations in creating a character/story, mh 👌 You're brilliant ❤️

I'm so glad to know you feel that way about the (apparently) incendiary thoughts I share on occasion. I wish we could be more open about what we actually like/dislike and why - I promise everyone it's so therapeutic and the jokes that come out of it are gold 😂😂

Also, there are few things I enjoy more than spirited debate with an intelligent person (which remains respectful throughout, obvi) - I'd love to hear more from people who have considered opinions different than mine.

That's a really interesting point about preferring one look over another and how that plays a role. I don't have a preference really (just no mustache/chinstrap 😂) so I never thought about it much. If you would like to share, I'd love to hear more about it 🙂

I'm also a fan of gentle roasting so even the characters I am totally into, I still gotta go for a joke. That's why Rick is princess creamy legs/daddy long legs always and forever to me. And I'll bring up The Logan Family Pout™ any chance I get 🥰

The last few sentences you wrote brought a tear to my eyee ❤️ You're absolutely right, it's fabulous to have people who like different characters for different reasons, and when there is a talented author out there who gets them and has the talent to write a story that will sweep us off our feet and build upon the character we love 😭😭❤️❤️ Perfection!

Sending you all my love and zero bad science metaphors because you're worth it 🤗🤗

And a little sprinkle of our Gooby Goobs because it's for sure not all bad 😄🥰