#i made this account before i had a job and my life has been becoming increasingly more hectic !!

[dailyicarus]

DAY 160

as much as i've enjoyed drawing my little guy every day for the past half year, life has started getting in the way and busying my schedules !!

so from here on out, dailyicarus will now be running on a weekly basis !

thank u all for the love and support this account has gotten <3 i hope this change will not lessen your enjoyment of it !!

[pellucid-constellations]

hi! If you’re still taking requests I would looooove some Az comforting the reader, maybe she’s having a bad day and is trying to play it off and tell everyone she’s ok but Az sees right through her and she ends up crying and he comforts her or something if you’re up for it. I love love love your writing by the way <3

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~1.3k

Warnings: A tiny bit of angsty thoughts

a/n: I loveeee hurt/comfort and this kind of took on a life of its own. Enjoy!!! Thanks for the request ❤️

____________________________________________

You could feel his eyes on you from across the room—calculating, contemplative, planning. You had been doing your best to ignore him for the better part of the evening, but his presence was hardly discrete as he stood strong and stiff in the corner. 

This day had been atrocious. 

You had woken up before dawn to begin preparations for the gala currently taking place, been screamed at by multiple vendors unhappy about their placements, got caught in the rain on your way around town, and barely had time to sit down before you were thrust into a chair and made to get ready for the night. 

And that was just today.

There had been pressure from all sides to find comradery between the courts after the war, and as an emissary to the night court and the one most familiar with each High Lord, you had been elected to carry out that task. A task that had taken weeks of bad days to come to fruition. 

To put it lightly, you were beaten down. 

“Perhaps you can speak to the High Lord about that, yes?” the Spring Court emissary drawled, an ending to the 20-minute speech you had hardly been listening to. 

You smiled anyway. “Oh yes, of course. Perhaps you could send me a follow-up correspondence in a few weeks to ensure I get your reply readily?” 

The emissary scoffed, looking you up and down with a cloistered sneer. “Can’t even keep track of little conversation? Typical. I guess I can send you a reminder, though…” 

The vicious man’s words began to bubble out of your mind, a low buzzing replacing the demeaning tone. You jutted your jaw to the side and pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back the burning in your waterline. 

This was exhausting and too much and was quickly becoming a thankless job. You had told Rhysand you were up to the feat, but you had not accounted for all of the screaming and complaining and belittling some of the courts seemed to favor. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw Azriel kick up from the wall. You threw him a watery, chastising look—knowing by the gleam in his eye that he was set to cause trouble with the man before you—but the Shadowsinger only raised a brow and tugged on the bond deep in your chest. 

Azriel had grown weary of your tired excuses and your half-hearted assurances that you were doing okay. It was obvious that every time you lied, he grew more impatient, more concerned. 

But you had to do this—for Rhysand, for Feyre, for the court. 

You hadn’t been able to fight in the war, so you could throw a simple gala and suck it up. 

Your mate stopped his approach, but you saw his jaw clench and his fingers roll up into his palm as the man only continued to drone on. 

“Do you think you could do that, then?” 

Shit. You had not been listening to a word he said, too concerned with Azriel’s thwarted approach. 

“I apologize,” you shook your head with a sheepish smile. “Could do what? It’s just so loud in here.” 

“Is this truly the best the night court has to offer?” 

That made the battle with your tears even more difficult. You swallowed the lump growing in your throat and tried to pretend you weren’t staving off a massive headache alone with it. 

“I know, I’m sorry. There is just much I have to do for the night and my mind is elsewhere—” 

“Thank you, Fike. You can send a letter addressed to the night court emissary when the night concludes,” Azriel cut in, interrupting the rough scratch of your voice. “It’s uncouth to speak so much of business at a party. And you are always so boring.” 

You heard the remnants of another scoff leave the Spring Court emissary's mouth, but Azriel was already guiding you out of the ballroom and into the hallway with a steady hand on your back. You took deep breaths as you went, your nose burning with the action. 

Get yourself together. You’re fine. A small issue in an otherwise—

Azriel hummed and pressed you against the wall of the hallway, quelling your rampant thoughts with the hand on your stomach. His other was pressed above your head, trapping you in an embrace, keeping only him in your eyeline. 

“You’re okay,” he comforted, taking exaggerated, deep breaths. “Just us here.”

You blinked and shook your head in quick succession. “No, I know, Az. I’m completely fine. I just needed to get away from Fike. I have to go back in.” 

“You are crying, my love.” Azriel brought his hand up from your stomach and brushed away tears you hadn’t felt fall. “You’re overwhelmed. I don’t know why you’ve put yourself under this much stress, but you need to stop for a moment.” 

“No. No, I'm okay. I’m not stressed. I don’t know what’s happening to me—why I’m crying. I feel fine.” 

Azriel’s expression pinched, grimacing as he watched your chest rise and fall unsteadily. “Y/n—” 

“It’s just a gala,” you affirmed, more tears falling with the quick flurry of your words. “Just a gala. I can do this one thing. You all fought in a war and you made me stay home. You could have died. I can host a stupid gala.” 

You furiously wiped at the wet tracks on your cheeks, brushing Azriel’s soft touch aside. But he only halted your movements, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. 

“Hey—hey. Don’t be so rough. Y/n, this is not a stupid gala. Look at me.” When you refused, Azriel released your wrist and tipped your chin up until you met his eye. He smiled despite the pain in your eyes. “There’s my girl.” 

And despite the pain, you huffed out a small laugh. 

Azriel would take it. He readied the spiel he’d been prepping since you began this venture. “This is not just a stupid gala and you didn't just stay home during the war.” Azriel pressed a kiss to your forehead, a pause he couldn’t help but take. “You protected everyone in the allied courts. You were our informant. You were winnowing so often you passed out, need I remind you.” 

“But I wasn’t—” 

“I don’t care if you weren’t fighting. What you did was just as valuable and you know that. Just as this gala is valuable to our peace. You are valuable.” 

Your face heated beneath his words, his body pressed to yours in the hallway as the gala continued on. 

“I need to be useful,” you admitted, after a pause. “This needed to be perfect.” 

“It is perfect, my love. My sweet mate. You need to take a rest. You’re breaking apart and I can’t stand to see you like this. Come here.” Azriel slotted your head in the bend between his shoulder and his neck, sliding his hands down your back until his wings came around as well. “Can I force you into bed? Just for an hour at most. I swear I’ll wake you up and we will come back down.” 

You made to move away from him in disbelief, still panicked at the idea of abandoning your work, but Azriel only held you tighter. 

“That wasn’t really a question.” 

And so Azriel took you to bed. 

[keerysfreckles]

newsies — MV1 (smau)

pairing: max verstappen x musical theater fem!reader faceclaim; kara lindsay !

summary: when lando drags max to his favorite musical, max takes a liking to the leading lady

warnings: none!

a/n: this is 100% made for me, i can't shut up abt newsies or jeremy jordan... sooo why not combine my two loves (newsies and f1 😁)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by jeremymjordan, landonorris and 11,037 others

yourusername NEWSIES OPENS ON BROADWAY IN ONE WEEK WHAT IS LIFE

view all comments

user1 tickets have been secured since last year IM SO EXCITED

user2 oh to get a hug from jeremy jordan 😞

jeremymjordan IM EXCITED ARE YOU EXCITED

yourusername I CAN'T SIT STILL JERE

user3 "jere" they're too cute 😭😭

mikefaist guess who has a front row seat 😁

yourusername MIKEEE 🥹🥹

user4 OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING OKAY EVERYBODY STAY CALM

user5 oh i've been waiting YEARS to see y/n in a broadway musical

landonorris missing fp1 to be there 🫡

yourusername lando no that's your job??

landonorris not that important 🤷‍♂️ plus there's someone i want you to meet

user6 someone to meet?? another driver??

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 19,728 others

yourusername opening night, race weekend, and max picking me up from rehearsals! (eventful week if you ask me)

view all comments

user1 ABSOLUTELY LOVED THE SHOW!!!!!!!!

user2 y/n and jeremy being the power duo on stage IKTR!!

user3 lando looks like he's hating the rain 😭

user4 WAIT PAUSE WHATS MAX DOING THERE

user5 PICKING HER UP TOO??????

landonorris your fault i dnf'd ☹️

yourusername not my fault it was raining??

user6 WAIT WHAT IF MAX WAS THE ONE LANDO BROUGHT WITH HIM TO OPENING NIGHT

user7 oh your onto something

maxverstappen1 still can't believe you know how to tap dance AND sing at the same time

yourusername i'd say it's harder to be on broadway than it is being an f1 driver

maxverstappen1 no need to go around lying on social media sweetheart

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by landonorris, jeremymjordan and 20,188 others

yourusername spent my time off with this guy, anyone know who he is?

view all comments

user1 he's so pookie ugh

jeremymjordan come back to new york ben and mike won't shut up about you (i guess i miss you too)

yourusername only if max can come too

user2 the duo i didn't know i needed

user3 okay but what's max's favorite newsies song 👀

maxverstappen1 i think he's a formula one driver, could be mistaken

yourusername thanks for clearing that up!

user4 max slowly becoming all of y/n's feed is so entertaining

user5 y/n and max the unexpected duo i didn't know i needed

landonorris you didn't hang out with me 😔😔😔

yourusername sorry max is just better company???

twitter !

yourusername just posted !

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 305,984 others

yourusername when f1 update accounts expose you and your boyfriend 😞😞

view all comments

user1 SO IT WAS THEM??????

user2 PLS THE CAPTION SHE'S TOO FUNNY

maxverstappen1 the secret was coming out sooner or later love

yourusername i know but now we can't soft launch ☹️☹️

user3 THE CUTEST COUPLE ON THE GRID

landonorris call me cupid 😏

yourusername no

maxverstappen1 no

user4 NEW BF MAX CONTENT IM SO READY

jeremymjordan proud to say i knew before twitter did 😁

maxverstappen1 just posted !

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 450,177 others

maxverstappen1 dating y/n means listening to the newsies soundtrack on repeat ❤️

view all comments

user1 THE MIDDLE SLIDE THEYRE TOO CUTE

user2 this had to mean max has a fav newsies song omg

jeremymjordan take care of her please

maxverstappen1 never plan on stopping

user3 y/n's bway bf 🤝 y/n's real bf

landonorris CALL. ME. CUPID.

maxverstappen1 still no

user4 THEY'RE MY EVERYTHING OMG

yourusername i don't think you can have your phone out in the theater sir 🤨🤨

yousuername but seriously you love the newsies soundtrack

maxverstappen1 i never said that

yourusername so what do you go to all the shows for??

maxverstappen1 my beautiful talented stunning girlfriend of course 😉

[heejayy]

Soft Life!

Warning: none

Pairing: Gojo x black reader

A/n: this was highly influenced by the influx of soft black girl aesthetic. There’s a little rant at the end, don’t mind me.

Some may label you a gold digger, claiming you're with him for his money, and others may claim you've played life smart, but one thing is certain: being Gojo's wife was the easiest thing you've ever done; this man asks for nothing and gives you anything you want.

You met Gojo as a college student working a part-time job. Going to school and juggling job was challenging, but you made do with what you had. He liked your dedication and hard work, and he found your independence attractive. But if you were to stay with him, no woman would spend her life working when he could easily provide and care for her.

Gojo is a man that doesn’t ask you for a thing he’s just a giver. He makes you feel secure in every aspect of life, but if you decide you want to do something on your own, he’s ten toes behind you.

In your free time you love staying home and looking online for new treats to make your husband when he’s away at work. You’ve had so much free time you started making videos for your social media accounts and they blew up overnight.

People love watching your get ready with me’s, you going shopping, cooking, working out, couple's trips, makeup routines, anything you post they love.

Besides your social media activities not having to work every day really opened your schedule, instead of being too tired to do anything after coming home you have time for all your favorite hobbies plus more. Reading, yoga, gardening, painting, knitting, hell sometimes all you do is lounge around and take bubble baths. (Gojo loves coming home to a happy and well rested wife.)

But with the positive comes the negative, the ones who don’t like you or is very jealous of your lifestyle love to call you a pretty dumb housewife who has nothing better to do. Someone who’s thrown her life and career away to cater to a man but in reality, that same man caters to you. Do people think you’d take care of a man who does nothing for you?

In your opinion you love who you’ve become as a woman and a wife, you’ve never been happier even Gojo sees it.

©heejayy 2024 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission.

Side note this is a little bit on the serious side: Although this is for my black girlies, all the girlies can read 🤷🏾‍♀️

I'm not sure if it's just me, but I've grown tired of the 'Strong Black Woman' trend. Now, don't get me wrong, I like strong independent women because that's how I was taught, but being perceived as overly independent makes black women appear as if we don't need anyone and can do everything on our own, which is how people treat us. Like babes…we are human with emotions. They will go help and praise a non-woman of color before helping us. It's quite harmful; they already treat and compare us to men. And when a black girl tries to break out from that image, she is dragged back down, which is disgusting.

You don’t have to be rich to be in your soft era! Put yourself first, be kind to yourself, don’t let anyone tear you down, you are worthy of love, the things you can’t control don’t let it stress you out, pray and read the Bible more (if you’re religious), let go of negative people, ITS OKAY TO ACCEPT HELP, it’s okay to be quiet or confident which ever one fits you, prioritize peace, just be you don’t change or try to fit in.

[sigilslvt]

Love & Lies • Toji Fushiguro

☣︎ Summary: You were once a horseback rider that people would kill to have on their tracks knowing they'd make good money betting on you. Things change, however, when a certain assassin with a gambling problem comes into your life.

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

Tags: fem! reader, ex boyfriend! toji, light angst, mentions of gambling, mention of animal death, manipulation, smut, brief oral sex (f receiving), p in v, creampie

WC: 2.7k

Art: arokushisu_11 on Twitter!

A/N: I would genuinely let this man drain my bank account as long as he fucks me like this immediately after, I'm not sorry.

I can fix him.

You had always made fun of women that claimed they could fix toxic or abusive men. Until you became one of them. Five years you’ve been with Toji. Five years you’ve been dealing with his addiction. You’d be fine if he was addicted to porn or collectibles or something, but no… gambling is his vice.

At first, it wasn’t a big deal, you met him at a horse race, after all. Being a rider, you knew people liked to bet. You thought he was a casual gambler when he was chatting you up to give you some sort of confidence boost because he had placed his bet on you. When you won, he called you his lucky charm and you fell for it. Instantly.

It wasn’t long before you started dating and you winning became less about luck and more about him running you and your horse ragged to make sure that you’d win when he bet on you. You’re still not sure if he was doing it because he just wanted to make big bucks off you or if he just genuinely thought he was helping and giving you motivation when he had you and Shiloh on the track constantly practicing. He claimed to love you, so there’s no way you were just a tool to him, right? Wrong.

Because here you are, two years after quitting because Shiloh broke her leg and had to pass over the rainbow bridge, and your relationship has deteriorated entirely. You no longer spend time together outside of him coming to lay in you guys’ bed at night. It’s become a circle of lies, loss, anger, apologies, and makeup sex. It never fails. He tells you he’s going to change, then he leaves after taking a job only to come back with no money to show for it. Of course, he knows that you wait at the track whenever he’s away for jobs, so he’s switched up his methods. Started betting on boat races, car races, you name it. It makes no difference to him as long as there’s the thrill of the gamble.

Every time it would happen, you’d tell him you were done. You’d scream and shout while he apologized, pleaded, and begged for you to stay after claiming he’d get help from one of the numerous places you’d called for him. Used Megumi as a way to manipulate you into staying by telling you his son loves you oh so much. It’d soften your resolve enough for him to touch you in all the right ways that’d make you forget just how angry you’d been. Fuck you stupid enough to believe him when he’d say he’d change.

This time is different. This time, after getting the notification that thirty million yen had been taken from your personal bank account, you pack your bags instantly. You don’t wait for him to get home, you simply write a note for Megu and disappear after changing your bank, phone number, and social media. You can thank him for one thing after all of this and that’s teaching you how to scrub your existence entirely. You do it well.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

It’s been three years since then and you’ve moved out of the city, to the countryside. You’ve managed to live a peaceful life after regaining your funds, buying a small farm and a few horses. You’re happy. You miss Megumi, still. So so much. It’s taken everything in you not to contact Toji just to hear Megumi’s sweet voice again. He’s eight now, old enough to know you’ve gone and likely won’t see him again. You wonder if he misses you. If you hurt him by leaving.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock on your door. You brush yourself off, pulling your shorts down so your ass is better covered, and prepare yourself for your horseback riding lesson appointment. It’s the way you’ve been making a living lately, which you’re grateful for, because you get to do what you love and watch others grow to love it, too.

When you walk to your door, you get an uneasy feeling. One that makes you feel like you’re on a rollercoaster about to drop. You push it down and open the door only to see exactly why you were feeling that way. Your breath escapes you and you look up to see none other than Toji. Thankfully, your body reacts before you can even think to and you start to close the door, but his large hand stops it and you know you won’t be able to physically stop him, so you don’t bother to try and force it.

“Please. Please don’t.” Is all you say and his expression contorts into one of regret and sadness. You look away, knowing he’s not going to do anything but try to break you down and you can’t let him. You won’t.

“Just hear me out, doll. I swear I’ll leave if you tell me to leave after, but I just need to… I have to… fuck, I had everythin’ rehearsed, but seein’ you lookin’ more beautiful than when you left, I lost it all. Just give me a few minutes, please?” He asks, fidgeting and shifting on his feet. You’ve never seen Toji like this before. He was always sure of himself, always ten steps ahead, always confident. But the way he’s acting now isn’t even how he would act when he was trying to get you to stay with him.

You can’t find it in you to speak, but you nod, moving away from your door frame so he can step in. When he does, you close the door behind you and lean against it, taking a moment to take a deep breath. Your feet carry you forward to walk in front of him, leading him to the kitchen and pulling a chair out for him. Instead of sitting, you lean against your counter with your arms crossed as if they’ll help your emotional defense. “What is it, To…? After all this time, what could you possibly have to say to me?”

“I… you left.” He says, rather plainly. As if he’s still shocked you did it. You nod, gesturing for him to continue. “You left and I didn’t get to say goodbye. Didn’t know if somethin’ happened to you, I-I thought someone with a grudge might’ve… I thought the worst, doll. It wasn’t till I saw the note you left Megumi under his pillow that I knew you left. I… why didn’t you at least leave me a note? Would that have killed you? Did our love not mean enough to you? I–”

“Stop. Don’t do that, don’t say that. Our love was everything to me. It wasn’t enough for you, though. Not enough for you to stop gambling so much that you drained even my money. I left without saying anything to you because I meant nothing more to you than being your lucky charm when I was racing for your wins. Don’t act like I did.” You spit, so enraged that you stand up and walk to him, bending down to get face to face with him.

There it is. That expression you were so used to seeing whenever he’d come home pissed from losing his money. “You think I didn’t fuckin’ love you? You think I was just, what? Keeping you around for shits and fuckin’ giggles? I love you so fuckin’ much. I tried to stop! I tried to live a straight life, I did! But every time I came home to see you so sad, so fuckin’ miserable, I broke down more and more. I didn’t know that I needed to do more than just fuckin’ quit. Didn’t know that there was more to a relationship than just providing. But, I know that now. I know that you and I can do this, I can make you happy, doll, just let me make you happy.” He pleads, the anger dissipating with every word he says, leaving only the look of a broken, desperate man.

“No. No, I won’t risk my happiness by allowing myself to fall for this shit again, Toji. I’m glad you figured out how to make a relationship work, I figured as much after seeing your girlfriend’s po–” You stop yourself, swallowing your words.

“You’ve been checkin’ in on me?” He asks and his voice is so hopeful that you feel a familiar crack in your resolve form. “Sh-she wasn’t my girl, she isn’t. I know what it looks like, but I haven’t committed, not since you, I-I can’t. Everytime I… no matter what whore I’m inside of, all I can see is YOU, doll. It’s always your fuckin’ face. It’s your name I moan, I… please. Please, baby, I’ll get help. I miss you, I need you, there’s no one else for me in this fucked up world. I know I took advantage of your patience and I know I don’t deserve you , but I’m askin’ anyway. One more chance. Just one.” He says, getting on his knees in front of you– something you’ve never seen him do during any of his episodes before.

You feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes and you look up, trying not to look at the man you can’t help but admit you still love. His hands find your thighs and his head rests against one, his arms snaking around you. “Please…” He lets the broken word out of his scarred lips before he begins to kiss your bare skin, smelling you in between kisses. “Please, doll… need you…” He keeps going when you don’t stop him, your legs beginning to tremble. His hands grip the back of your thighs tightly and he groans as his face lifts up to your clothed cunt, pressing a kiss to it and making your hips buck. “Tell me this ‘s okay, baby…” He says, emphasizing what he means by kissing you there again.

Your lip trembles and you shake your head, your fingers sliding into his hair and pulling his head away from you, making him look up at you. “You need to get help, To… that’s the only way this will-”

“You got it, babe.” He says before you can finish, immediately going back to your thighs, licking a strip up one of them. “M’gonna fuckin’ worship you like I should’ve.” He growls, wasting no time and hooking his fingers into the back of your shorts, pulling them down your legs roughly. You’re about to step out of them, but he stands up and picks you up, putting you on the table and spreading your legs for you.

You cover your face, not having been put on a display like this in so long, but he rips your hands from you immediately, slotting his lips onto yours. The texture of the scar on his lips was something you sorely missed and you nip at his bottom lip, his hips rutting against yours in response, his erection pressing painfully hard against your core. “Mmph, To…” You whimper out before he nods.

“Got you, princess. Lemme do my thing.” He chuckles, kissing down your jaw, then your neck, along your collarbone, and lastly over your chest before he grabs your tank top and pulls it down under your breasts, groaning when they spill out. His lips attach to one and fingers to the other, his slimy muscle working on your nipple within his mouth with a vengeance. Your back arches up off the table and your head falls off of it with a loud moan. He repeats the action on your other breast before moving to kiss below your navel and then your pelvis.

You roll your hips up, trying to get him to bury his head between your thighs already when a large hand pushes you back down on the table. “What’d I say, hmm?” He asks, making you groan and roll your eyes, needy for him. “Bad girl. Such a fuckin’ bad girl.” He hisses before he gives you an inkling of what you want, swiping his tongue between your clothed folds, making you jerk in response. He pulls your underwear to the side with one finger, smelling your slick, his eyes rolling back into his head as he does so.

“Tojiiii, stop!” You beg, embarrassed at how fucking nasty he can be with you. He doesn’t listen, of course, instead immediately plunging his tongue into your waiting hole, making sure to rub his nose against your clit as he moves his face side to side, moaning at your taste. You grip his hair again, your other hand grasping and massaging your breast like the added stimulation will help to alleviate the pressure he’s creating by teasing you. “Please… more…” You beg, breathing quickening as he continues to tongue fuck you.

“F’give me for wanting to enjoy you a bit more, princess. But, since you asked so cutely, I’ll give ya what ya want.” He hums, kissing your clit just once and standing. His hands immediately work to rid himself of his pants and boxers, gripping his fat cock and smacking it against your slippery folds. You look down at it and it looks angry, red and dripping precum from the tip. He smirks seeing your reaction, continuing to wet himself with your slick as he grunts. The second you give him what he wants– a needy whimper, he sheathes himself inside you.

Your pussy flutters and clamps down on his cock immediately, earning a long groan from him as he bottoms out. “Heh. She missed me, huh?” He asks, making you nod and blush. That’s enough of a response for him and he wastes no time flushing his body against yours, rutting into you with a force that only he’s capable of. His thick cock bullies your gummy walls, stretching you around him so deliciously that you can’t form any coherent thoughts or words, really. “Love you s’fuckin’ much, princess. Never letting you go again, n-ugh- never. All mine, y’r all fuckin’ mine.” He grunts out, fucking into you even harder, your table creaking beneath you.

“L-Love you, Toji! Love you s’much, s’deep! ‘M all yours!” You cry out, hands slithering up his shirt and raking your nails down his back violently, but you know he can take it. It only riles him up more. His hands move down to grab your thighs, folding your legs up so he can get in at an angle, kissing you as his tip turns your cervix to mush.

“Still as fuckin’ tight as the day you left, doll.” He growls between kisses and you feel your cunt clamp down harder on him, twitching. “Oh? Gonna cum?” He asks, sitting up, slowing down and rolling his hips against you roughly, purposely delaying your orgasm. “Tell me, princess… tell me you love me one more time and I’ll let you cum.” He hisses out, the slow, deep thrusts doing a number on him, too.

“Love you! Fuck, please!” You beg, trying to fuck yourself on his cock to get yourself all the way there.

“Mmm mm, you know what I wanna hear.” He delivers a punishing thrust into you once before continuing the slow and rough pace.

“I love you, T-Toji! I love you s’much, I’m all yours!” You moan out, earning a satisfied moan from him, his head falling back as he speeds up churning your gummy insides out with his cock like his life depends on it, the table now making concerning noises beneath you as he brings you to your peak and your orgasm washes away everything from your mind, your mouth falling open as you cry out and cum. A creamy ring forms at the base of his cock while your cunt clamps down so hard on him that he can barely continue to thrust, which pushes him over the edge.

“Nngh, fuck!” He groans, using all his strength to pull out and plunge back into you while he cums, the force of his thrust so hard that the table breaks beneath you and you both fall with it. He doesn’t bother to pull out, chuckling as he moves your hair from your face, kissing your forehead while you both try to catch your breath. “Missed you so much, doll.” He coos, his eyes so loving that you feel you’ll melt.

“I missed you, too, To… don’t let me down again. Please…” You breathe out and he nods.

“Never again. I promise.”

[bartyism]

honest work. regulus black.

regulus is dead and it is now up to you to defend his honor.

reposted from my old account.

warnings: canon compliant death

pairing: past regulus black x fem!reader

Regulus never told you he was leaving, he never told you his plans. You woke up in a cold, dark, empty room with no one lying beside you. The sheets on his side of the bed were freezing and had been kicked off the bed haphazardly. The night before had been rough, you had ended up arguing over everything you were missing out on while seeking refuge inside the house that was given to Regulus as a graduation gift. His involvement with the Dark Lord had done immense damage to your relationship but it was held together by his promises – promises that things were not as they seemed. 

In return, you had lost your job but, most importantly, your friends who had become family because of your predicament. They were never accepting of your relationship. The younger version of you that got yourself into this mess was naive. You were a sixteen-year-old chasing a forbidden love. Now, as an almost nineteen-year-old, you were in far too deep. Everything that was part of you, or what you owned, was dedicated to and also owned by Regulus. There was no you without him, once everyone else had turned their back on you.

The deepest parts of you still loved Regulus, of course. Your skin begged for his touch and your brain urged to see him and hear his voice. But, he did not align with your beliefs. Any chance of change he had shown in your Hogwarts years had been ripped to shreds the minute you graduated. But, you never left. You had lost everything, and you refused to lose him, too.

Beside you, placed gently on the pillow your lover used every night, was a rolled-up parchment. Your heart sunk at the sight, mind racing.

Unrolling it, you felt bile work its way up your throat as you began to read it.

“Y/n,

I apologize for leaving so abruptly. Sometimes, when the moment is right, you must not let anything stop you. I need you to believe every word I say.

I have found something that may put an end to all of this – this war that I know has put a strain on us, especially your well-being. I never meant for things to become this way.

He has created an object that makes him... stronger than the average mortal. I know where it is located and hopefully, I will destroy it. I know I am being vague, but I swear it is for your protection.

I do not know if or when I will return. I need you to promise me that you will move on, worse comes to worst. The thought of you in pain over my decision pains me more than anything I could face on this journey. My last thoughts will be of only you. I am still as in love with you as I was the first day we met, but I regret infiltrating your life with my poor choices.

With all of my love,

R.A.B.

Please burn after reading.”

Your body shook as you clutched the parchment to your chest. You knew Regulus would not be returning, or else he wouldn’t have left this letter. You would never hold or kiss him again, never have him inside you again. You would never smell his cologne throughout the house or bury your nose in his hair again. 

After the initial comedown from reading the letter, your thoughts were jumbled: had Regulus told the truth? Was he lying when he promised things weren’t as they seemed? The letter seemed to confirm his claims, but what if it was just another lie?

Standing up on shaky legs, you made your way to the desk that Regulus spent many nights hunched over. You began writing a letter to Sirius about Regulus’ death, but you left out all of the parts regarding why it happened. You didn’t think about how Sirius may react. You never expected a letter in return just a few days later, asking you to meet him.

You should’ve expected that James and Remus would also be accompanying him. What you thought would be a deep conversation about Regulus quickly turned into an interrogation. The men in front of you wasted no time with pleasantries, immediately diving into what Sirius had said they would be coming for. “He died during a mission-,” you started. You were cut off by Sirius, who had grown tired of you struggling to find the right words to say.

“Stop telling me that he died! I want to know how,” Sirius demanded. You shook your head and looked down.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Sirius, when I’m not quite sure myself.” you spit out, still not lifting your head to look at him. “He left me a letter. That is all I know and even that didn’t explain much.”

“A letter? So he left, presumably on a mission, and got himself killed doing it. Bloody idiot, if only he’d grown a backbone-,” Sirius started but was interrupted.

“You are so ignorant, Sirius. You know nothing about him and what he was doing. He wasn’t the boy you left behind in that house, he changed. But, you? You’re still an entitled dickhead. You can’t think for one minute that maybe, just maybe, your brother looked up to you. He wanted to escape, too, but he never had the resources you did. He didn’t have loving friends that he could run to. You don’t get it, Sirius, you don’t know how badly he wanted out of there after you left. I am not going to sit here and listen to you when Regulus died to help your cause,” you said. You started crying again and covered your face with your hands. 

The three men in front of you glanced at each other. For once in his life, Sirius didn’t know what to say. Instead, James spoke up. “He died for our cause? What’d you mean by that?”

“He didn’t tell me everything, even asked that I burn the letter after I read it. But, he mentioned something about Voldemort being stronger than mortals and that he knew how to stop him from being so. I figured that if anyone deserved to know now that he’s gone, it would be you.”

You silently prayed to the Gods that Regulus wasn’t frowning down upon you right now. You had gone directly against his dying wish, but you knew this secret couldn’t die with him. Others needed to know that Regulus Black did not die as a cowardly supporter of Voldemort.

“Could you give us a moment?” Sirius asked, turning towards James and Remus. The two boys nodded and got up from the table, finding something else to do. Sirius couldn’t meet your eye, instead focusing his gaze on his clasped hands. “Could you tell me more about him?” he whispered.

You stared at him, shocked. “He was angry at you, but not because of your beliefs. He was heartbroken that you left him in that house, but as we got older, he was even angrier at himself for being angry at you.” Sirius ducked his head even lower and you stopped yourself from reaching out and putting your hand on his shoulder.

“Regulus and I had talked about starting a family. If we had a son, he wanted to give him the middle name ‘Sirius’. We spent a lot of nights talking about our future, in hopes of getting the chance to even have one.” You choked on your tears before continuing, “One of his promises to me was that when everything settled down, he would try to reconnect with you.”

“But, I never even attempted to give him a chance,” Sirius trailed off. You nodded, stoically. You weren’t going to show pity on him. Consumed by your grief, you couldn’t imagine that Sirius was capable of feeling an ounce of what you felt. He had turned his back on Regulus while you did everything to keep him in one piece. Sirius knew nothing. “What else did he promise you?”

You sighed, slouching in your seat faintly. “He promised that we would get married. Part of that promise was that he’d have reconnected with you by then. You’d be at the wedding. He also promised that we would get rid of Grimmauld Place since that place is full of terrible memories. Now, with everyone being dead other than you, it’s yours.” You had to pause before you continued. Sirius looked as though he had been presented with the worst news of his life.

“You were always his older brother. He loved you, Sirius.” You picked up a tissue and tried to rid your face of the tears. Exhaustion had taken its toll on you and you hung your head. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how much more I can say right now. I haven’t gotten to grieve yet, you know,” you mumbled. Sirius nodded and twisted the rings on his finger, showing his nerves.

You stood up to leave the table, not sure how to end the conversation, but Sirius reached out and grabbed your wrist. “If you ever get overwhelmed being in that house, you can stay at mine. I’m not there much these days, anyway,” he said. 

“As kind as that is, I don’t think I can part with it just yet.”

Six months later, you sat in front of a grave – one that read “Regulus Arcturus Black.” You had asked for a special inscription on it, “A loved partner and brother.”

It was hard for you to come to his grave, mainly because there was never a body to bury. The first time you came and arranged a small selection of flowers, it felt like you were lying to yourself. Surely, Regulus wasn’t dead? How could you be proclaimed dead when there was no body? You knew you weren’t making sense – Kreature had confirmed Regulus’s death. That was all the proof you needed.

However, as you sit facing his grave today, you finally feel as though his presence is there with you. “I wish things would’ve gone differently, but I’m sure you did, too.” A light laugh slipped from your mouth and you looked at the flowers that had rotted since the last time you were there.

“I miss you every day, Reg. Every morning, I still reach for you. Your office is the same as the day you left it. I can’t bring myself to change anything that was once yours, in fear that I’ll forget the small things about you. I can’t move your opened book on the symbolism of thestrals, or flip the page from the one you left it on. Every once in a while, I find a piece of your clothing that managed to escape the wash – I can’t bring myself to wash them because they still smell like you.” A few tears slipped from your eyes as you spoke. You absentmindedly plucked the wilted flowers from the ground, tossing them somewhere behind you.

“I still love you like I would have if you were here with me. Sirius has started to come around, too. Your death has finally set into him. He regrets how things went,” you mumbled. The wind picked up, sending chills down your spine. Regulus’s hands were always cold, leaving you to almost imagine it was him embracing you.

“This war will end one day, darling. When it does, I will make sure you are remembered for who you really were. I love you,” you said.

[skellish]

Please help a disabled (seeking disability) trans woman keep her apartment!

Hi everyone, my name is Delia, I’m a 25 year old trans woman with several disabilities, such as ADHD, possible autism, BPD, depression, anxiety, CPTSD, chronic fatigue, et cetera. I need real help in order to keep the apartment that I fought so hard to get. I am seeking disability right now, but it is going extremely slowly and I don’t know when I’ll see any help from the government. Let me explain a bit of my situation.

Medicine has never really worked for me, and I recently decided I needed to come off wellbutrin because it was making my anxiety a lot worse, as well as depleting my ability to really feel anything at all, so my doctor recommended I stop and try a new med. I can’t afford to go to the doctor very often so I stopped the medicine a month ago and am going back in September to try something different that will hopefully help.

Essentially, I live in income based apartments and lately, my disabilities have been either preventing or seriously hindering me from getting to my job. I used to work basically full time at my deli job and it became too much due to me being burnt out for like the last 5 years, so I had to cut down. I work three days a week now, and it’s already becoming too much again because of said perpetual burn out and medication withdrawal. I have either been missing work entirely or been late every single day, and they haven’t fired me yet but I fear the worst is coming soon.

Right now, my rent is $372, my water bill is already behind, power bill still needs paying, and I only have ≈$100 in my bank account right now. I am planning to yard sale both this Friday and Saturday, and next, and get some more cash before it is due, which is on the 10th of August. On the 10th, they will serve me an eviction notice to get out by the 20th unless I can get the money.

I am asking here if anyone could spare anything, any amount is immensely appreciated. I have been on my own for a few years now with little to no support, and I've always despised needing or asking for it, but the fact of the matter though is that this is my last Hail Mary to save my sinking ship, and I'm desperate.

I know most folks here are also struggling though, and I hate to make this post, but I am kind of at my wits end in regards to keeping this apartment. This has been my first somewhat stable home in pretty much my whole life and I'm terrified of being forced to move yet again. If I can just get this month’s rent paid, I will be able to find a new, more tolerable job in the meantime while I am seeking disability benefits, and then hopefully keep the ball rolling.

Any amount will help, I am honestly begging and I will appreciate anything anyone can spare, be it a donation or a share.

Update 8-12-24: so we have made some good progress here and I am thankful. Sadly some unforseen expenses had come out, so not exactly where I'd like it, but it is coming along. I've just got 8 ish days left to come up with the rest though, so. I am considering selling my Playstation, and that was unconscionable previously, so things are fairly dire.

V3nm0: @Skellish

C@sh@pp: $Skellish69

Goal: $372

Current: $110 / updated: $190, (still need $182)

[riaaanna]

Reprint of John Harris' article from Music Life special edition August 1977. 📸 scans-ish by me. Translation by deathtoming. No repost pls.

For @justlike-awoman ❤

An exclusive first-hand account from Queen’s exclusive engineer

Current exclusive engineer and former chief road manager John Harris has been friends since before the group was formed. The true nature of the four members, as only he would know.

They haven’t changed since the old days… - John Harris, Queen’s exclusive engineer

I was classmates with Brian In the middle of the audience’s cheers shouting for an encore, and their thunderous applause, I found myself absentmindedly thinking back to when I first met the four members of Queen, Freddie, Roger, Brian, and John. Their debut in Japan last year, among feelings of hope and uncertainty. And they set foot in Japan again this year, not having changed one bit since I first met them. Well, aside from the fact that they became “stars”...

Five or six years ago, I was a student studying at Imperial College. I wasn’t a very serious student, but still I studied as one would, and socialized as one would, and greatly enjoyed my student lifestyle. Through that university lifestyle, I met a certain guy, formed a friendship with him that continues to this day, and was able to make the conditions for me to do this job that I have now.

That guy was, unlike me, a very serious student. He was bright on top of being serious, so naturally he had better grades than guys like me, and was always outstanding, and while we were unlike each other, we got along a fair bit, and spent time together outside of school, too. During this time, I learned that this guy that I thought was strictly serious was actually crazy about rock music. Now that I’ve written this much, this “guy,” who is tall and a friend with the top grades, has surely been recognized as Brian May by fans.

I’ve known the members of Queen since they first formed, so from the very beginning, in other words. Although I’m working exclusively for them as an engineer, it’s not that I always wanted to be an engineer. I met Freddie, Brian, and Roger, and when they first formed Queen, it all started when I helped them transport amps, instruments, and other gear.

Queen was a collection of poor students back then. Still, Freddie graduated from art school, and Roger got a degree in science. Brian also earned a degree, and apparently was going to keep going towards a PhD, but after putting a lot of thought into whether he should continue with Queen or keep studying, he made the decision to be a musician.

It’s not like there were jobs lined up everywhere they looked after they graduated. Life had to be difficult for this group of unsuccessful musicians. The story of Freddie and Roger working at a boutique in Kensington Market is now well-known.

The four of them have not changed at all It wasn’t easy to continue working little by little on their music careers while working part-time. No matter where they went, they had to carry their instruments, amps, and gear on their own. I was with them, and at that time I had a plain, small, light van. I started to become responsible for loading amps and guitars into this van and taking them to wherever they were playing. When I look back at it now, this was the first step in eventually working as an engineer for Queen.

Needing a bass player, John joined Queen about two years after the group was formed. The circumstances surrounding that have been covered already by numerous magazines and newspapers, so I won’t go into details.

I got to know Brian first, then Freddie and Roger, and then finally John, and I still remember well how I met each of them for the first time. I often get asked by lots of people whether the members have changed over the years. Most of the people who ask me that are guessing that their simplicity from before is no longer there. However, as far as I can tell, Freddie, Roger, Brian, and John have not changed at all. Queen have become so successful, and they’ve become stars, but their personalities are the same as when I first met them.

I wonder if they never thought of themselves as stars? They haven’t changed in the 5-6 years I’ve known them, to the point where sometimes I almost forget that they’re members of the famous Queen. That’s why when I see them being followed around by young girls at train stations, hotels, and around town on this Japanese tour, I get a little surprised. These kinds of scenes seem more common than when they first came to Japan. All of the members apparently wanted to talk to the fans, but it’s impossible with this many people.

An unforgettable memory I reprised my role as engineer on this Japanese tour. However, I only work as an engineer mostly on tour. I’m also with them in the studio when they’re recording an album, but they hire other people as studio engineers. When the four of them enter the studio, they become very serious. And they complete their work after much painstaking work, and fans end up with an album.

I like Queen as friends, of course, but I also like them as musicians. I often listen to their albums when I’m at home. My favourites are Queen II and A Night at the Opera. Right, there’s I’m in Love with My Car. Roger wrote this song for me, and both Roger and I are very much into cars. The two of us have gone to see car races, and sometimes we even race cars ourselves. However, maybe Roger’s many fans wouldn’t approve of such dangerous activities.

On top of being an engineer for their live shows, sometimes they ask me for my opinion about various things. For example, what song was the most well-received that day, or the set up of the stage. During a concert, the lights are so bright that they can’t see behind the stage. Me, I always set up the equipment behind the stage, and have a seat. That’s why it’s immediately clear which songs are well-received and what kinds of reactions the audience has. When a concert goes well on a particular day, the four of them listen attentively to my advice. But if they’re ever in a bad mood, there can be trouble. It’s better not to say anything when that happens. The four of them become extremely high-strung before and after concerts.

What that means is, that’s how serious they are when it comes to their music. They’re always thinking about the progress and growth of the Queen sound. Their day-to-day lifestyles can also be seen as different from those of the typical guys in rock groups. There aren’t too many occasions of them getting drunk and wild. Roger probably drinks the most out of the four of them. But still, it’s not that Roger is a heavy drinker. On top of that, the four of them never drink before a show. That’s how much they focus on their act.

That’s how much nervous energy they use on stage, and when they go on tour, they spend a long time travelling from one place to another, and the daily round trips from hotels to airports continue. I grew tired of this lifestyle several times. There’s no doubt that the members felt this way as well. However, there’s a sense of happiness you get from living in this harsh world that you couldn’t get elsewhere. I still remember it well. The day I first heard a Queen record on the radio…. That was Seven Seas of Rhye, Queen’s first hit single in the UK. We were all slapping each other’s shoulders and jumping around, raising a ruckus.

Also, the day Queen first appeared on the popular TV show Top of the Pops was also memorable. The day Queen first played in Japan last year, too…. On the first day at the Budokan, there were over 10 000 audience members. Up until then, they had only performed to audiences of at most 4,000 people in the UK, and now they were performing in Tokyo to 10,000 people. The excitement and emotions felt were unforgettable.

Four distinct personalities I don’t know how long I’ll be working with Queen. I might get tired of touring as I get older, and I might become a studio engineer at that point. However, as long as Queen exists, I’ll likely be by their side. That’s how much of a good friend they are to me, and how appealing they are as musicians.

Lastly, I’d like to write about each of their personalities from the point of view of their friend. First of all, John, the youngest member, as you’re aware. He’s extremely wise, and he also understands well the essence of business. He doesn’t talk very much in interviews, but if he has a little bit to drink, he becomes a cheerful jokester, that John.

Next is Roger, a truly easy-going guy. He doesn’t fret and think too deeply about things, and doesn’t get seriously concerned about life. His philosophy seems to be that life is there to be enjoyed, and every day he thinks about how to go about enjoying life. Roger is also the type to go drinking and merrymaking on occasion.

Brian is the opposite of Roger. His personality is the kind that seriously frets and worries about everything. However, when it’s about the world in general, he doesn’t care very much. What he’s interested in is the theory behind the music.

Freddie is slightly impatient, and can be generous. He’s the kind of person who would buy a gift for anyone right away, and spends a lot of money on that. He’s up-and-down with his mood, and when he’s in a good mood, Freddie is truly kind, but if something he doesn’t like happens on stage, or if there’s a problem with the music, he gets angry like a roaring fire. He’s a perfectionist that is hard on himself, just as he is hard on others.

I like my current job, and I really like the four members of Queen as people. It’s true that they have become “stars.” Still, the fact that they will be life-long friends hasn’t changed.

[From the (Music Life) special issue of August 1977]

[heliads]

Lisa my love! I hope you don’t mind me sending another request (for none other than Jack Wilder again of course) — but how about a Jack x reader meet-cute situation, maybe she’s a barista at the coffee shop he likes to visit, and he definitely thinks she’s more than cute but reader is a little oblivious to that fact. But she doesn’t recognise him at first, (i can imagine a co-worker going “GIRL that was Jack Wilder!” and she’s like “who now?”). Jack ends up becoming a regular and the two get to know each other outside of the coffee shop setting (I’m also imagining he’d try to teach her card tricks and it’d just be so !!!!!! absolute fluff). Sorry, this request doesn’t have a SINGLE coherent thought in it, it’s literally so silly but I love this man bfhvdjhfvdn

anything for the boy

'wake me up' - jack wilder

masterlist

Nothing has ever made you want to drink coffee less than working in a coffee shop. Whether or not you’ll actually stop is purely up to your own moral strength, of course, but you’re reminded daily of why you would make such a choice whenever you clock in to your latest shift at your local coffee shop. The sight of so many exhausted people who seem to prefer snapping at you to actually taking accountability in their own lives is depressing, to say the least. 

Still, you keep working there. You always do. It’s satisfying in itself, as far as jobs go, and your coworkers are funny enough that the time always passes faster than expected. It’s not bad. And sometimes, on rare days like today, you end up meeting someone with the power to change your life forever.

The funny thing is, you almost missed him. The shop was crazy busy when he came in. You would find out later that the people were only crowding into the shop and lining up down the block because of him, but you hadn’t known that at the time. You had just chalked it up to word of mouth, maybe enough people had finally appreciated the expert level of care you and your coworkers put into their lattes and decided to show up and see what’s what. 

You certainly hadn’t counted on the cute boy who came bounding through the door of your shop, sending the bell fixed to the top into a commotion matching the hubbub surrounding the tables inside. Your first thought was that he seemed energetic enough that ordering coffee was unnecessary. Your second thought, as he breezed up to you, ready to order, was that you certainly didn’t mind your job anymore if it brought you faces as pretty as his. 

For a complete stranger, he seemed very sure of himself. He had paused for a moment before speaking, as if waiting for you to burst into applause at the sight of him. When it became clear you weren’t going to fall into raptures, he just shrugged and rattled off his order. The words were perfectly cadenced, probably memorized. You wrote it down like normal. Routines can be tedious on both ends, even if two perfect strangers are meeting for the first time. Sometimes, you don’t know that the course of your life has been irrevocably affected until much later. You certainly didn’t know it then.

You had guessed that something was strange, though. You had asked what name he wanted with the order and the young man had blinked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t fathom the possibility that you wouldn’t know who he was. You’re familiar with the regulars of the coffee shop, so you knew he wasn’t one of them. Still, he seemed so stunned that you didn’t recognize him already. In a good way, though. With the way he smiled at you as he said, “Just Jack, thanks,” you got the feeling that he thought quite a lot about you was good.

Jack’s order wasn’t too complicated, so you were able to finish it quickly, which he seemed to appreciate. Even after he moved out of line to wait for his coffee, Jack had still hung around the counter, eyes nervously darting around the room as if he expected someone to jump out at him. From the few glances you were able to sneak as you poured and mixed ingredients, you almost thought he was right to worry. All these tables of girls kept whispering and giggling to each other, staring back at him with this outright, unusual intensity.

You had no idea why he was seemingly being stalked by so many people, but he was cute, so maybe that would do it. There’s a college campus across town, maybe he was on a varsity athletics team or something. You called his name and several people perked up. No one looked happier than Jack, though, and he eagerly slid over to you so he could pick up his drink.

You raised an eyebrow at his excitement, unable to hide a small smile. “Really looking forward to that coffee, huh?”

Jack had the presence of mind to blush a little. “I just want to hit the road as soon as I can.”

You took an obvious look past him. “I think I can understand that. What did you do, announce that you’d be giving away free kittens or something?”

Jack chuckled, absentmindedly scratching the back of his head. “Not quite. Do you– do you not know who I am?” He gave this pained half-laugh as he said it, like he could tell that saying something like that didn’t make him come off as the nicest.

He was cute enough that it worked, though. Cute and charming. He could get away with anything. Later, you’d learn that he usually did.

“No,” you said, and his entire face had lit up. Strange. “I’m not a mind reader,” you reminded him, “I won’t know your name unless you tell it to me.”

“Well,” he had said slowly, “I won’t mind saying it again. Maybe tomorrow morning?”

You had laughed. “I’ll see you then.”

Jack had all but beamed at you, turning around to smile at you one last time right before exiting the shop. You’d watched him go with a soft smile, shaking your head to yourself as you headed back to get the next customer’s order.

When you started mixing up the next drink, though, one of your coworkers turned to you, practically shrieking in your ear with the force of her excitement. “Am I dreaming, or was that Jack Wilder?”

You glanced at her, confused, as you reached for the oat milk. “Who?”

Your coworker’s eyes widened in horrified shock. “You must be joking. Jack Wilder? Of the Horsemen?”

You had frowned at her. “Like the four that bring about the apocalypse? He seemed nice enough to me, I doubt he’s going to bring pestilence or death upon our coffee shop.”

Your coworker had shaken her head, her eyes flickering briefly shut as if praying for strength. “No, Y/N, the Horsemen are a world famous group of magicians. They’re like, crazy good. During a show, they once robbed a bank on the opposite side of the globe.”

“So they’re criminals,” you muttered, eyebrows raised, “They sound like lovely people, then. Should I check the credit card he paid with? Maybe it was a playing card instead and I didn’t notice.”

She rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t do that, obviously. They’re like magical Robin Hoods, they only steal from banks and bad rich people and stuff like that. Jack Wilder is a celebrity, if that’s what it takes to get through to you. He’s like, the hottest one of all of them.”

“That I can agree with,” you had grinned to yourself. He was really good looking, and sweet at the same time. 

You found yourself sincerely hoping that he would come back the next morning, although the odds of that had to be low. If Jack really was a world-class celebrity, he’d probably jet across to a new country by the end of the day. He probably wouldn’t stay in one place that long, especially given the questionable legality of his day job. Coming back to the same small coffee shop was practically out of the question.

And yet, when you open up the next morning, you find yourself idly glancing outside the front window every few minutes, constantly checking to see if there’s a cute magician slipping inside your shop. Each peek down the street is rewarded with the sight of faces that aren’t his, though that doesn’t stop you from looking again.

Eventually, you decide that he’s not coming after all and there’s no point in continually craning your neck to see past the people huddled outside the main window, trying to talk themselves out of purchasing a pastry. It is only now, when you let down your guard, that you see someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye and announce, as if this were some great, life-changing thing:  “I’m back.”

For anyone else, this would be obnoxious. However, the cute boy beaming at you did make you a promise, so it is quite important that he would be here to honor his word. You end up smiling back at him in silence for a beat too long. It takes your coworker pointedly looking at the line growing behind Jack for you to remember yourself.

“Right, right. Coffee. What can I get you this morning?”

He looks bashfully behind him, as if only realizing that it’s not just the two of you in here, too. “Um, maybe a double shot vanilla latte? Oh, and can you draw something on the top?”

You hum as you write down the order. “Any ideas, or is the art my choice?”

Jack winks at you. “I’d love your number, but that might be too long. How about a heart, since you’ve already got mine?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but you do your best to keep your cool. “That’s sweet. Do you flirt with all your baristas like this?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he promises. Maybe Jack’s magic isn’t just in card tricks, but in his smooth moves as well. 

As he turns around to find someplace out of the way to wait for his drink, your coworker openly stares at you, jaw dropped. “What was that?” She asks under her breath, grinning.

You just shrug, although you can’t seem to stop your lips from curling up into a poorly hidden smile. “No idea.”

Jack thanks you for his drink when it’s ready. You weren’t brave enough to give him your number, assuming he was just joking around. He’s a celebrity, you remind yourself. He could probably conjure up Margot Robbie’s number if he really wanted it. He’s not going to go for you if he could have anyone on the planet.

However, when you slide over his coffee and he immediately checks the design in the foam, pretending to pout when he sees no identifying string of digits, you start to wonder if he wasn’t kidding after all. It certainly seems that way when he shows up the next morning, and the next morning, and the next. Jack is turning into a regular, which you didn’t expect. You figured he would sweep from city to city like the rest of the Horsemen, but for some reason Jack seems inclined to stay.

He insists on getting your number about a week later, and says he won’t leave the shop until he gets it. He pretends to handcuff himself to the chair of his favorite spot, pulling the metal cuffs out of thin air and grinning at your surprised reaction. You make him stay there, locked in place, for a few more minutes just to mess with him, but in the end he walks out with your number, and when you leave that night, you find a card tucked into the pocket of your apron. 

It’s the queen of hearts, although the image is less entrancing than the phone number scrawled across the front. Just in case I lost yours by accident, says the note on the back. You press it to your heart, trying to stop yourself from audibly squealing. You had promised that you wouldn’t fall for him, but it’s getting increasingly difficult to keep your word. 

Especially not when you get a text some time later that night:  Get home safe? Then:  This is Jack. Although I hope you wouldn’t be confusing my number with other handsome men who also wanted to see you.

In the safety of your room, you’re free to lightly kick your heels back and forth like a kid with a schoolgirl crush. No other admirers. Just you.

Just the way I like it, is the answer, practically only a few heartbeats after your text. You might actually end up loving him if he’s not careful.

Jack comes in the next morning looking far too pleased with himself. In fact, he even goes so far as to ask when you get off work that day. He says he wants to see you without other customers getting in the way. You remind him that he, too, is a customer, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, asking if you want him to be something else. You don’t deign to respond to that, but you think your self-conscious smile does enough talking. He certainly laughs like it does.

Jack ends up taking you out to lunch. He makes you laugh the whole time, looking proud of himself every time he manages to elicit so much as a smile from you. He tells you stories about all the fantastic jobs he’s taken as a Horseman, even attempts to teach you a card trick or two. Several dropped decks later, both of you can freely admit that he’s got more of a knack for sleight of hand than you, but his hands have been over yours in the name of teaching his trade often enough that neither of you much mind.

It’s getting harder and harder to pretend that this is just a game to him. You do ask him once, as he’s dropping you off at your door, if he really does want this. You. Everything. Jack looks softly at you once, eyes containing all the secrets he couldn’t possibly put into words if he tried, and then he kisses you sweetly, slowly, and you know. Jack Wilder could have the whole world in his hands, but as it turns out, the only thing he wants from it is you. He’ll convince you of that as often as it takes. You can’t wait to watch him try.

requested by @hiya-itsamber, i hope you enjoy!

now you see me tag list: @mayfieldss

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[mangoshorthand]

Could you possibly do Five x Reader where Five and the reader have a fight and the reader storms off. The next time Five sees them, they're in the infirmity, comatose, and no one is sure when, or even IF, the reader will wake up. Five has to sit with his regrets that the last thing he said was something he didn't mean and that he wasn't there to protect them when they needed it. When the Reader wakes up, Five breaks down in happiness, giving the reader all the love he can. Heavy Angst with a bit of fluff cause I like happy endings. Lol. Thank you!

This gave me serious flashbacks to the end of No Hard Feelings. Hope you enjoy this. Nothing like a bit of angst. Here ya go!

Dickhead Sugar Daddy | Five Hargreeves / GN Reader Words: 2.8k, rated T

It was such a stupid fight. He didn’t even believe what he said the moment he said it.

He insisted that you take that money. He wasn’t the type of guy to beg, but he came damn close. He watched you struggling to pay medical debt for an entire year before you let him pay it off for you. Until then, you were too proud to accept his help. He told you again and again that it wasn’t a big deal. It was only in four figures and his father left behind more money than he could ever use, even when divided among all his siblings. 

“I’d give it to a friend,” he said, “even if you and I don’t work out, it doesn’t matter. Gotta be honest, I wouldn’t even notice if that amount disappeared from one of my accounts. You owe me nothing, okay?”

He could tell it made you uncomfortable and, truth be told, he didn’t much like the feeling of being a sexagenarian trust fund brat so out of touch with ordinary life that this amount of money wasn’t even a blip on his radar. After you finally accepted his offer, he hoped you could both just forget about it.

So why had he been such a colossal asshole?

The argument was about housework on top and booze underneath. Neither of you wanted to state the obvious fact that Five’s binge-drinking was becoming a problem so, instead, you fought about the consequences.

“God, turn that thing off, will you?” he shouted, irritably over the roar of the vacuum.

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Well, I’m sorry, darling,” he said, testily, “I just feel like shit, alright? I don’t need the goddamn vacuum in my ear.”

“Well, sorry Five, but the world doesn’t stop because you’ve got a hangover. My friend’s coming tomorrow and you promised we’d clean up today.”

“Here’s the thing: this is your friend, not mine.”

“But this is our home,” you snapped back, “we both live here and this is half your mess. You’ve been shitty about this all week.”

“Oh, so I can’t be busy?” he replied, smiling sarcastically.

“Oh yeah. So ‘busy’,” you said, doing the air quotes that would have made him punt you through a wall were you absolutely anybody else, “- busy farting around with math and looking for non-existent paradoxes around every corner.”

“It’s theoretical physics, moron. Maybe your tiny brain can’t comprehend what I’m doing, but I can assure you it’s more important than the shitty job you do all day.”

“Oh wow.” you said, laughing disbelievingly, “Well fuck you, dickhead.”

“Yeah?” he said, fire behind his eyes, “well don’t come crying to this dickhead the next time you need a sugar daddy.”

Your mouth dropped open. You stood there, frozen, looking into his face. Later, Five thought it could have gone either way in that moment: if only he’d apologized, perhaps he could still have stopped it. 

But he would never know, because he didn’t apologize: he just let his shittiest, most insolent smile spread across his face.

You threw down the vacuum, grabbed your jacket and left without looking back.

At the time, Five considered it a job well done, only glad for the opportunity to rest his banging head. Over the following days, however, he would play your departure over and over in his head, scouring his memory for everything that proved his guilt.

You were agitated; probably too agitated to pay attention: his fault.

You were hurt; perhaps hurt enough to do something impulsive: his fault. 

You were enraged; maybe your final thoughts as you stepped off the sidewalk were of how much you hated him. And it was all his fault.

He didn’t even know he was your emergency contact.

By the time the phone rang, he’d hauled himself off his ass and cleaned in preparation for your friend’s visit. He also guiltily made a reservation at your favorite restaurant, hoping to apologise over dinner.

So when he answered the phone, he expected your voice:

“Hi. Can I speak to Mr Hargreeves?”

It wasn’t your voice. It was a stranger. 

“There are a few of us,” he replied, “you’re gonna have to be more specific there.”

“Mr Five Hargreeves?”

“Speaking.”

“Right. Hello. Uh- I’m a paramedic. I found this number in a patient’s phone’s I.C.E.”

 He could barely register the rest of her explanation. As soon as he heard those four words: ‘hit by a bus’, his entire body went cold. His stalled brain could only repeat it again and again as horror encroached slowly into every fiber of his body.

Hit by a bus. A bus?...Hit by a bus?

He was only brought back to a sense of the here and now by the repeated summons of the voice on the other end of the line.

“Sir?....Sir?”

“Hit by a bus?” he asked, weakly, trying to keep a firm handle on his swimming head.

“Sir, I think you should sit down.”

He took the advice and collapsed into the straight-backed chair beside the phone, eyes fixed straight ahead of himself.

“I’m sitting down. I sat down.”

“Good. Now listen to me: you should try to get here as soon as possible. Give me your address and I’ll call you a cab, okay?”

“I don’t need a-”

“Sir,” the voice said, sternly, “give me your address. You don’t sound like you’re in a fit state to drive.”

Drive? He could as easily drive as he could fly right now. His legs trembled beneath him, his brain sending confusing, bewildered signals. He never folded in stressful situations, yet here he was shaking like a leaf.

“Sir?”

“My brothers,” he blurted, “I’ll get a ride from one of them.”

The paramedic was satisfied with this and gave him the hospital name again very slowly and deliberately. After accepting her good wishes and slamming the phone back in its cradle, he willed his body back into action, stumbling down the stairs and screaming for anyone who might be around.

Lila answered his call, and one look at his shocked, white face told her that this was serious. 

As soon as he could have expected, he was entering your hospital room. Lila offered to accompany him, but he dismissed her with muted thanks. This was something he had to face alone. 

Your face: bruised purple and cuts newly stitched. Your left leg: in a cast that went all the way up. But the doctors weren’t worried about the broken bones, they were worried by the head injury.

Comatose.

You were comatose because of him.

Standing there in the doorway, he was hit by his own bus. His guts constricted, breath catching in his chest. 

“Don’t come crying to this dickhead next time you need a sugar daddy.”

As his own words echoed back to him, he squeezed his eyes closed, shutting out the sight and trying to gather himself. But it was too late. He whooped in a breath and felt the hot sting of suppressed tears behind his eyes.

All he could do was wait, they told him. The brain had a remarkable capacity to repair itself, they said. You might wake up and be just fine...but you also might not wake up at all. 

He swiped at his face with his forearm. 

Seconds were useless now: you needed seconds as soon as you stepped out into the road. If only he’d followed and apologized like he should have done immediately, he would have been there. He might have stopped it happening before it did, or he could have wound back time and undone it. 

But now, hours since you were hit? His puny time-travel powers couldn’t help, not without decades of planning and tinkering and paradox-proofing. Perhaps more years than he had left to live.

If only he hadn’t been such a cunt in the first place. None of it would have happened.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, from behind his own forearm held across his face, “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

He sat at your bedside, teeth gritted against the tears he wouldn’t give himself the luxury of crying. He held your hand tight, as if torrential water might sweep you away were it not for him anchoring you.

He held your hand as if his grip might tether you to life.

And his mind preyed upon itself.

Yet again, his own selfishness had hurt someone he loved. And this time it was the person he loved more than anything. First, he abandoned his siblings for the sake of his own ego and now he’d probably killed you because he was a cruel, spiteful asshole.

“Don’t come crying to this dickhead next time you need a sugar daddy.”

He sat in silence for the rest of the daylight hours, listening to your heart monitor. Every new beep was a relief, the spaces between were looming and fear-filled. The silence held the possibility that the next beep might never come. 

When darkness fell and the hospital’s bustle fell to a low ebb, he leaned forward and laid his head beside yours on the pillow.

“Please don’t die.”

And hearing himself say it was all it took for the dam to break. He couldn’t keep the tears in anymore. He cried like he hadn’t cried since those first years in the apocalypse, when he’d still been young enough to sob ‘I wanna go home!’ and ‘I want my mom!’ into the unhearing wasteland. 

“Please.” he said, burying his red, tear-streaked face in your hair, “Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. I promise I didn’t.” 

He tore in two or three gasping breaths.

“Please, angel. Don’t leave me. I can’t- I can’t-”

But he was crying too hard to speak. He raised his fist to his mouth and bit down on it to contain the wails clawing their way up his throat and threatening to burst bounds.

Cutting white teeth marks into his knuckles, he cried it out until he could control himself; until his voice could stay steady.

“You gotta wake up,” he whispered, “I can’t do this on my own anymore. I need you, okay? I’ll be better. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. Just don’t leave me.”

Another shaky breath.

“-you’re the fucking love of my life. I love you so much and without you I can’t even- I can’t.”

He screwed up his eyes again, trying to keep himself from re-dissolving.

“I can’t imagine getting up without you any more. I can’t imagine going to sleep without you. There wouldn’t be any point, y’know? I may as well just…”

He never finished the sentence. He felt like muscles and tendons in his chest were being pulled apart by strong hands.

Day time. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t washed, hadn’t eaten. He spent most of his time in the chair beside the bed, holding your hand in his, but he occasionally perched beside you on the bed, stroking your hair and talking almost nonstop.

“You’re gonna have to wake up soon, darling.” he said, “They say they’ll have to give you a feeding tube if you’re asleep for much longer. You won’t like that. So how about this: you always hate it when I don’t eat. You loom over me while I’m working and make me eat. So- how do you like this: I’m not gonna eat until you do.”

He made a satisfied noise as if you’d responded.

“Exactly- you don’t want that, do you. So you gotta wake up- it's the only way you can make sure I eat. I've got you there, haven't I?”

He looked down at his own hand over yours. 

“And, to sweeten the deal, if you wake up before they have to put the feeding tube in, you get breakfast in bed every day for two months after we get home. And I’ll massage your feet on demand. Shit, I’ll let the world end rather than miss a single minute with you. I’m going to be better. I’ll do better with the booze. I swear, I’m going to be the perfect man. You deserve that. You deserve better. Please. Just wake up.”

What started off as light humor had devolved again into the desperate bargaining of the night.

He looked down at his shoes and felt exhaustion wash over him. He rubbed at his eyes with the palm of one hand and wished he had the faith requisite to pray. 

A groan.

His head snapped back up so abruptly that it twinged his neck. His eyes scanned your face for any sign of life and found none. Just as he thought he’d imagined the sound, your hand twitched in his.

“Oh my God,” he whispered.

Eyebrows knitted, he sprang to his feet and called your name urgently, leaning towards you and resisting the urge to take you by the shoulders and shake you.

“Come on,” he urged, “say something. Open your eyes. Please, just let me know you’re in there.”

Slowly, and seemingly with as much effort as if your eyelids were weighted with iron, your eyes drifted open. They were vague and bloodshot, but they held his gaze.

“That’s it!” he said.

Tears, of joy this time, fell thick and fast again.

“Oh, thank fuck. I can’t believe it. Oh, fuck.”

Your mouth opened and a rusty voice spoke.

“Hello.”

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He bent towards you and held you to him as tightly as he could in your delicate state. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. Relief and euphoria rushed through his every atom. He kissed your forehead, each cheek and peppered several more across your nose and chin. He was too uncontrolled, too carried away by his own gladness to have finesse. Each kiss made a gentle smack against your skin.

“Who are you?” came your voice. 

And it was like the sun going in. He straightened up, cautiously. 

“It’s Five, angel,” he said, gently, “You remember me, right?”

“I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

His breath caught in his throat. 

You had a brain injury. For some reason he hadn’t prepared himself for the fact that some things might be permanently broken. 

But then your face broke into a hazy smile, and a halting creak issued from your chest. If he wasn’t mistaken, that sounded like-

“Ah wait, you’re that dickhead sugar daddy I know, aren’t you?”

You were laughing. You were fucking with him.

Another wave of relief coursed through him. He bent again and kissed you with a pumping heart and tightening lungs. His lips parted yours, desperate, tender and giddy.

“I love you,” he said, between kisses,”I love you, I love you. I c-can’t believe you’re okay!”

And again he was sobbing. He laid his forehead on yours and cried unashamedly into your face. One of your hands drifted slowly upwards and came to rest heavily on his shoulder. He cried that way for a few minutes while you looked up at him dreamily. 

Eventually, when his crying began to lessen, you began to giggle slightly madly. He withdrew, looking down at you in a moment of confusion. 

And then it hit him: the dosage of medication.

You laughed harder, your hand coming to thump him on the shoulder as something hilarious occurred to you.

“Guess what. Guess what, Five: now I’m gonna have…even more…medical…debt!”

You dissolved into a peal of helpless laughter, which he couldn’t help but join in with despite all his tears.

“Don’t think about that now. Dickhead sugar daddy’s got your back.”

He continued more seriously when his laughter subsided. 

“I fucked up bad. I’m so sorry. I was sorry less than ten minutes after you left. I didn’t mean it.”

With the attitude of one who’s won a bet, you pointed at him weakly, 

“Now you have to make me breakfast in bed every day for two months.”

“I will,” he grinned, “if you say you forgive me?”

You smiled but didn’t answer, letting out another little burble of laughter.

He decided that now might be a bad time to talk about what happened in too much detail. There would be time for heart-to-hearts when you weren’t dosed up on enough pain meds to knock out a bull elephant. 

Instead, he kicked off his shoes and brought his legs up so that he lay on the very edge of the bed while taking up as little space as possible. He laid his head gently on your shoulder and heard you sigh with contentment.

Here it was: his longed-for second chance. 

He felt his eyelids growing heavy. All was right with the world now.

“I don’t want the perfect man,” you mumbled.

“Huh?” he said, rousing himself.

“I don’t want the perfect man,” you repeated, “I want you.”

Megalist

Request info + rules

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[girl-named-matty]

Hogwarts Legacy next generation - The Sallows

As I said in this post, I wanted to share some photos and lore of some of the next generation of hl kids in my lore! So, today we're doing the Sallows! <3.

Eleazar Sallow:

You've already seen him on my account before but this is Eleazar Sallow! He is the oldest child out of the five Sallow kids and he was named after Matty's late mentor at school, Eleazar Fig. Upon coming to school, he was sorted into Gryffindor (much to Matty's bragging rights upon her husband since she's a Gryffindor herself).

Growing up, he was definitely your stereotypical mature oldest brother. He helped out with his younger siblings, kept his younger brothers from getting into trouble (or at least tried) and looked out for his younger sisters when trouble came by.

He is an absolute hopeless romantic and has been in love with the same girl since he was five (whom he later on married). In school, he was close friends with Xander Prewett and Hector Weasley who were both sorted into Gryffindor as well. The three of them do a lot together and were practically inseparable in school. He played on Gryffindor's quidditch team and that was one of his hobbies he really enjoyed.

Later on in life, he follows in his mothers footsteps and becomes an Auror. Although, unlike her he didn't go into the Hit Wizard/Witch department, he went into Magical Law Enforcement Patrol (so basically what Officer Singer does, except for he actually does his job.)

He marries Noctua Gaunt II (more on her later) and has one son whom he names Gideon.

Caroline Sallow:

This is Caroline Sallow! She's the 2nd oldest in the family and the oldest daughter. When she went into school, she very unsurprisingly sorted into Ravenclaw.

From a young age, Matty and Sebastian noticed just how intelligent their daughter was. She taught herself to read and write, advanced in her understanding of magic, and even taught herself about muggle studies that she had heard of from her mother. So it wasn't surprising that she got into Ravenclaw.

She is definitely the braincells when it comes to the Sallow kids (more specifically her younger brother, Marcellus) and attempts to keep him from doing dumb crap like teenage boys often do.

She's somewhat a "no-nonsense" kind of woman, meaning she just likes things to get done the way they should be and nobody should be goofing off while doing it, as that might interrupt the process of it. She's very particular about specific things.

Her best friend is Noctua II, as they have been good friends since childhood. Although they are in different houses, they always made sure to find time to hang out together. Caroline is also well acquainted with Dean Clopton (bet you cant guess whose kid that is lol). But regardless of her acquaintance with the quidditch lover, she absolutely despises quidditch and is the only Sallow child to not play. She read a book about it once and said she knew all that she needed to know about it.

Later on in life, she becomes a Professor (although she doesn't teach at Hogwarts). She met her husband, Rome Smith, in her workplace. The two were later married and had two children, Hildegard and Lyall Smith.

Marcellus Sallow:

Ah yes, the Sebastian-esque child who also happens to be the middle child. Buckle up because this is a complicated one lol. Marcellus Sallow is the third oldest out of the Sallow children and he also happens to be the middle child. He is the most like his father out of all of them and half of the time that's a good thing and half of the time its a disaster.

He was a total daddy's boy growing up, following Sebastian around everywhere as long as he was allowed to. So, obviously Sebastian spent a lot of time around Marcel in particular. And like Sebastian when he was younger, Marcel tended to get into a bit of trouble throughout his childhood.

Eleazar and Caroline would constantly have to make sure he wasn't getting into trouble or doing something he wasn't supposed to. So yes, he is absolutely the problem child but he isn't all that bad.

He enjoys reading but prefers action fantasies over other genres. He's constantly outside and exploring the world around him and that usually is the way he gets into trouble if he doesn't stop himself before its too late. He actually slit his own eyebrow himself because he thought it'd make him look cool. He ended up getting in trouble for that later and it got infected because he didn't do it right (💀). But he has zero regrets about it.

In school, he is unsurprisingly sorted into Slytherin and he is good friends with Lorenzo Gaunt, despite the two of them having around a three year age gap. He plays Quidditch and loves winning has he is a very competitive person. Merlin forbid he loses against one of his siblings in a game of Quidditch. He gets all salty about it but eventually gets over it.

In his fifth year, he meets a girl named Marie, who had been ditched by her date at one of the school dances. Marcel himself didn't have a date, so when he saw her sitting alone (and thought she was cute) asked her to dance. He then harbored a massive crush on her and they ended up getting married almost immediately after school. Later, they had two sons Jonathan and Roman.

For his career path, Marcel dreamed of following in his fathers footsteps of being a Curse Breaker but unfortunately after getting mixed up with the wrong group of friends once Lorenzo graduated from Hogwarts, Marcel got into a bad mix of people and ended up becoming a smuggler secretly.

(i'd have to take a whole post to explain his further lore on just this subject alone, so we're gonna stop it there before it gets too sad LOL)

Adonis Sallow:

The boy sweetheart of the Sallow family, that's for sure. Adonis is the forth and youngest son in the Sallow family. He is the older twin of Anne Sallow II by about five minutes.

He is an absolute mommy's boy. As Matty got older and stopped working more frequently, she could spend more time at home as she desired. The twins were the last two children to be born so she got to spend more time with them as expected. Adonis was practically glued at the hip to his mother for the first couple of years of his life. He could be described as a sweet but anxious child.

Eventually, he grew out of his mass anxiety thanks to the help of his older brothers and learned how to cope with it. Although he still struggles with it, it's much better than it used to be. He enjoys being outside and enjoys small creatures of pretty much any kind. He used to find insects or other small creatures and bring them inside to show everybody, much to Caroline's dismay (she hates insects).

In school, he was sorted into the Hufflepuff house and has many friends there. But either way, his best friend is his twin sister. He is loved by the Professors and students there due to his loving nature, something his family was very proud of. He also played quidditch and got really good at it.

He met his future wife, Rose, at school when he was in his seventh year. Rose didn't talk much and as a result of this was often bullied for it. When Adonis was made aware of this, he made sure to reach out to her. He knew she didn't have any friends, so he offered to be hers. He told her she didn't have to talk if she was uncomfortable with it and that he'd keep up the conversations himself.

Eventually the two ended up falling in love and eventually Rose was comfortable enough for the two of them to begin talking with one another. It was something that he helped her with and that deepened their love for one another. After school, they ended up getting married and had four children: twins Peter and Dorran and then two daughters, Amaryllis and Cassiopeia.

As for his career, he saw how being an Auror affected his mother and older brother mentally and physically and wanted to help those from that department with their struggles. He ended up studying to become a therapist and opened his own practice to help Aurors who were struggling mentally. He was publicly praised for this since the Ministry offered no compensation to the Aurors who had been working for so long.

Anne Sallow II:

Anne Sallow II is the youngest child out of the Sallow children. She was obviously named after her aunt, Anne. Sebastian attempted to name his first daughter, Caroline, after his sister but Anne griped about it saying it made her feel old. Eventually, once Anne II was born, she allowed Sebastian to name his daughter after her. Although a contending name for her was Aria, after Sebastian and Anne's mother.

She is the younger twin of Adonis and was the unexpected one. When Matty found out she was pregnant for the fourth time, she expected it to be one final child. Turns out it was twins, surprise!! I hope you enjoyed all the sleepless nights with not one but two babies!!

The twins were also born prematurely, which definitely didn't help with Matty's anxiety about the situation. But everything worked out and Anne II is dearly cherished by her parents. Although, since she and her brother were premature, they developed some health issues and often got sick as children. As they grew older, it got better but both of them can recall getting sick quite often.

Just like her twin brother, Anne was also sorted into Hufflepuff and is friends with many there. She is outrageously outgoing and is the more competitive twin. She loves Quidditch and made a very good chaser in her days of playing.

After her time in school, she went on to become a Professional Quidditch player and being half Irish, she played on Irelands team. Which Matty was very happy about. After a few years of Professional playing, Anne decided that the life of quidditch was no longer for her, as it became less enjoyable. She turned to studying nursing and became a nurse in a muggle hospital.

Under unfortunate, but slightly humorous circumstances, she met her husband, Clark Nelson, who was a muggle man. The two later ended up marrying and had two sons, David and Benjamin.

(Sebastian wasn't the absolute happiest that his daughter was marrying a muggle, simply due to the fact that she'd be around less since she had chosen to stay with her muggle lifestyle. However, once Matty reminded him that she was a muggleborn and spent fifteen years of her life living as one ((not to mention he had muggle in-laws)), he quickly got over it and has a good relationship with his son-in-law.)

Sorry this is long as crap. But this is actually very little of their lore, pretty much just the basics. Each one of these characters has a lot of lore behind their characters because I just couldn't help myself LOL.

Hope you enjoyed! The Gaunt's are next! 💚

[melanieph321]

Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Boss Me Around Part 1/6

I'm so excited for this one!🤭

Reader is a former yacht girl now newly moved to Turin, Italy for her job as a real-estate accountant. There she meets Dusan Vlahovic, a former client of hers, a client she never thought to see again. However, with Dusan being Readers new boss their past becomes a liability. Nevertheless the spark between them still lives. This story is a romcom with both His and Her POV!

Enjoy!

Miami did get a little crazy in the summer, thankfully it was your last year being a yacht girl. Yupp, you were keeping your promise. Once you were out of college you were putting your flip flops on a shelf and stuffing your bikini in the back of your pantie drawer. It was time to grow up and stop treating life like a circus. It was time to get a real job.

"But you'll still visit me when you move to Italy, won't you?" Izzy said, as the two of you shared a scooter on your way to the marina.

"Are you kidding? With my new salary I'm flying you out to visit me. We'll have so much fun together in Turin."

Although it was considered a job, you had formed many great friendships through yachting. Izzy was your best friend in the game, the one you never road without. If it hadn't been for Izzy teaching you the ways of the yachting game, you might as well have ended up in some really bad situations that a lot a girls do whilst seeking the fast way to earn some cash. It was important not to get too in awe of the experience. Izzy had tought you that. Izzy had also taught you that the biggest mistake girls in yachting did was fall in love with a client, a mistake you were thankful you had avoided throughout your career. Although college boys never realky gained your interest either.

"So who's this guy anyway?" You asked. "A nepo baby looking to party?"

"More like a self made billionaire. Raul says he owns like half of Serbia when it comes to real-estate."

"Impressive." You nodded. Your last job as as a yacht girl would be a breezer. It was easier to deal with rich entrepreneurs than spoiled nepo babies who believed to rule the world.

Or so you thought.

********************************************

"I think they're here." Alex said, looking over the boat deck, keeping an eye out for the girls. Once he spotted them Dusan rose from his taning bed, on his way to alert the crew to prepare the boat for departure.

"There's only two of them." Alex said, looking displeased as he returned from the deck, approaching his friend.

"Yes, one for you and one for me." Dusan said, pointing between the two of them.

"Man, you really have gone soft." Alex sighed. He was already suprised to be invited for a fun day out on his friend's new yacht, only to find the vessel empty of people if you excluded the crew members. "What happened to the old Dusan?" He said. "The one that likes to party. The one that taught me that the more the merrier, huh?"

Dusan chuckled. "I guess he's retired."

"At twenty four? How sad."

"Look, we can still have a good time. The girls said that they were up for anything."

"Yeah, but if I know you you're probably gonna ask them to watch you take a nap."

Dusan shook his head, a smile in his lips.

"When did you get so boring man, is that what a billion dollar empire does to you?"

Dusan opened his mouth to get back at his friend but that's when they heard voices below.

"Hello, anybody home?"

"Up hear!" Dusan shouted, a minute passing before they heard footsteps climbing the stairs. Two girls emerged, dressed in nothing but strips of fabric,  bikini's barley covering enough.

"Hi, I heard you guys were looking to party." The blond one said. Her hair was cut short with several tattoos covering her arms.

"Yeah, that's us." Alex grinned.

"Well, the party has arrived." She cheered.

Dusan had nothing against girls with short and bleached hair, but tattoos never did it for him.

"Great. How would you girls like your martinis?"

"Dry." The blond girl was quick to make clear. "And no olives."

"Got it, dry and no olives. How about your friend?"

All eyes turned to the second girl who's presence hadn't been as notisble as her friend. But now that he had his eyes in her, Dusan found it almost impossible to diverge his attention from her.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The girl seemed distracted,  her gaze having stuck to a point below Dusan's chin. He wasn't wearing a shirt,  only swimming trunks. Perhaps she found it rude, him introducing himself half naked. Not that she was any better.

"What drink do you want?" Her friend asked, in a bit if a rush to get the party started. The crew was heard above their heads,  the yacht would set sail at any minute now.

"S...ame as you." The girl stuttered. Her voice was unique. It was quite deep but in a very feminine way.

"No olives?" Her friend confirmed.

"No olives." The girl nodded. Her friend then followed Alex downstairs to the bar, leaving Dusan with no trail of thought in the presence of the girl which his eyes had yet diverge from.

"You have a very nice boat." She said,  trying to somther the rise of an awkward silence.

"Um, thank you." Dusan said, clearing his throat. "It's new actually."

"I can see that." She seemed fairly fascinated, as she dared approach the boats railing, admiring the view of Miami Beach.

"Yeah, how so?" Dusan asked, joining her side. But instead of admiring the view, he couldn't help but to admire her. She had eyes that sparked something within him, a sudden thrill.

"What do you mean?" A frown ruined her face.

Dusan felt the need to make himself clear. "You said that you could tell that my yacht is brand new,  how so?"

"Oh." She turned for her back to rest against the railing, her eyes now wandering across the newly swiped deck. "Well, it's every billionaires dream to own a boat and put it on display in Miami, or am I wrong?"

"I don't know." Dusan smiled. He was quite entertained. "I've never heard of this fenomenon. Surley the expert is you considering your experience with billionaires and boats."

The girl's eyebrow rose with interest, however Dusan's slik comment did not seem to have insulted her.

"Perhaps it's not every billionaires dream." She said, turning her head to face him. Again, her eyes sparked a thrill within Dusan, a thrill he was more than excited to explore. "But it sure is every newly crowned billionaires dream."

He wrinkled his nose.

The girl had a twinkle in her eyes. "My friend googled your net worth on our way here."

"I see." Dusan nodded. "Fair enough. I may or might not have bought this yacht in honor of my business flourishing this past year. However I'm not planning on docking it in Miami for display."

"Your gonna sail it across the seven seas?"

Dusan snorted, unintentionally of course. How did she make him do that? Her comment caught him of gaurd. "Not really." He said, collecting himself. "I'll have a friend of mine bring it home for me. He's more of a professional."

"Yeah, that's probably a better idea. Sailing a boat through pirate infested waters can be tricky without experience."

Again, the girl made him chuckled. It was pathetic how tipsy he came across. The girl must smell the glass of champagne he had earlier on his breath and think he's one of those creeps to invite yacht girls on their boats just to get them drunk. He had to assure her that he wasn't like that. He had to assure her that she could feel safe with him.

"We got martinis!"

Just as he was about to ensure her safety, the girl's friend showed up, followed by Alex who carried a tray of filled glasses. "Let's get this party started!" He said, handing out the drinks, making sure everyone had a glass in their hand for a toast. "To a lovely day, spent with two lovely girls." He said, as cheesy as ever.

"Cheers to that!" The blond girl said, rasing her glass.

Before downing his drink Dusan turned to her friend, making sure that she looked to be having a good time as well. He was suprised to find her smiling at him, an empty martini glass in her hand. "Drink up." She winked.

Dusan did exactly that. He would do whatever she asked him to, whatever.

[thesophistiicate]

I recently started following you after having read your post on upgrading one's personal items for ones of higher quality. Every post since that one has inspired me, more and more each day. Your recent one about "moving in public with a thoughtful brand" was something I felt compelled to write word-for-word in my journal as a constant reminder for myself and something I wanted to touch base on.

I got laid off from my job last fall but months before being let go, I was being given a hard time at my job. I know it has nothing to do with my performance, it's everything to do with how I carry myself. When I got let go, I unfortunately developed the fear of being seen and as a result, I watered myself down as a form of self-preservation (which I was only made aware of by taking some time to sit down with myself, look at images and how I longed for the girl I used to be in pictures a year or even months prior, and feeling disconnected with the person I saw in the mirror in the present). I chopped my hair off, went quiet on socials and going as far as starting new ones to regain my privacy, throwing myself into a hardcore workout regimen, and—for a while—disregarding the things that naturally tickle my brain. Though, in the last few weeks, I can feel myself reawakening. In the last year since being let go, I've gone through a few obstacles that were enough to water myself down further (if it's possible). But there was one major obstacle, which was the unexpected death of my senior dog, and a few back-to-back dead end interviews that awoke something in me. Rather than going further incognito, I've decided to make an appearance to the world again—sharing my passions and the things that make me tick, all without having to risk any boundaries being overstepped. After years of debate, I finally decided to start a blog and write what I know best: myself, and whether that's for myself, for a few or even thousands of subscribers. I'm no longer on hiatus for my moodboard account and have also started to fuse my own imagery/likeness with the collected content. I'm rebuilding my universe again, a brand. I was bullied into hiding, all for what though? I eventually found my way back to what I naturally gravitate towards and what naturally aligns with me. I no longer feel afraid, rather my guard is up but I now know what works for me and what doesn't. I've learned that I can't stop some people from feeling threatened by my presence and I shouldn't hide for that reason. Never say never but for now, I will not remain in hiding. I miss the universe, especially my own. I wanted to share this with you. Share it however you like. But know your words are complete magic.

oh thank you so so much, this message means so much to me! 🤍 i’m so sorry for your loss too.

your message reminds me of something i think of often, how so many extraordinary people i know have been subjected to things like bullying or abuse. it’s like the toxic people of the world see all the light and wonder and potential and want to take it away because it threatens them. i’ve often found people want to “consume” us, own us, have us, but don’t have the slightest idea of how to actually handle us, so break us down to their level instead.

it’s like two sides of a coin, if you learn to lean into who you are and building your own self esteem, getting in touch with your true self and expressing her, then there’s magic. but the dark side is that we can become lost in other people, our brilliance (and attention and energy) is often coveted by those who don’t know how to handle us and it can be profoundly harmful. like somebody buying some exquisite luxury piece in a material like cashmere or suede… when you don’t know how to take care of it, it will be ruined.

and every brilliant woman i’ve known has had phases of retreat, phases that felt like an undoing and a rebirth. in many ways i think it may be necessary for true excellence, when you are levelling up so much that the old life literally has to fall apart and be destroyed so that you can rise from the ashes, reborn. as i’ve gotten older i’ve learned to find the power and comfort in this pattern, i understand things are falling apart to come together and i don’t feel as scared or depressed when it happens.

anyway, i’m just so happy for you finding your way back to yourself and your passion and purpose. this is so powerful and truly exactly why i started this blog 😭🤍

[femslashfeb]

HELLO ALL

TLDR

No reblogging from the blog this year - posting prompts tomorrow the 31st

For the past few years I've very much struggled with reblogging everyone's activity in the tag. So this year I will not be doing so.

(OR maybe I will? I just don't want to commit)

Even if I knew how to make a bot that reblogs - a lot of people still use the unique tag to tag outside challenges. So I've always had to hand submit. However it became too stressful for me and for the past few years I ended up avoiding it until later weeks or even months.

If you noticed I didn't finish reblogging last year so- I've just given up on that.

Honestly I've struggled a lot with depression for the last 7 years or so. It's been harder and harder to find my way back to tumblr. It doesn't help that my phone can barely handle the amount of apps it already has.

My main account @puff-pink hardly ever updates because of my big sad. And I don't know if I'll ever get back on the horse in the same way I did before.

Some of you know me as an artist, and tho I still churn out subpar art for my day-job I've struggled a lot to make art for myself during my depression. Partially because one year I overworked my hand - and still deal in continual wrist aches. Even the weeks I don't pick up a drawing tool.

I intended this challenge for myself and maybe the small fandoms I was in at the time. But it took off among writers and creators of all types across all fandoms.

One year I even tried to tally the most popular fandoms but there were honestly too many to keep track of- and I stopped after the first three pages of submissions.

I don't claim to have invented the concept of FemSlash February. Before I started the prompts I swear I had heard the phrase somewhere. Tho not sure where. Perhaps it had been amongst my friends on Skype. Back when I had online friends and Skype(I'm still not sold on Discord🤷‍♀️).

However that January I thought it would be fun to partake in a challenge of some kind. But scouring tumblr and the general internet. I could only find half hearted efforts on fanfiction sites from years past.

I'm so proud of all my Sapphic creators on here that have partaken every year. Even if I've never shown favoritism or awarded anyone. I do notice those that actually complete the challenge AND those that keep coming back each year(looking at you H20 writer(I don't remember your username but there's a mermaid writer that's a writing machine)). I truly am proud of you especially in my shriveled state of creativity. Thank you for your efforts. For your hype. And for your love of women of all kinds across all the universes.

Each year I'm surprised to find even more categories I never thought to include. From mood boards, to doll photography, to ofc the classic art and writing. May your pencils forever be in union with your sister mediums.

On that note. There is a strict NO AI GENERATED ART or writing this year.

Not that I could physically stop anyone who does use AI. But I do not want that sort of thing associated with this challenge. It's become scarily good in 2023 to the point it can't always be identified. So I simply ask for the honor system when it comes to AI generated creations.

That being said. If you've made it to the end of this post:

Prompts will be posted tomorrow.

I usually prefer to give yall more of a buffer, but I've been busy. Both with Big Sad, rescuing some feral cats, my own life, errands, chores and work.

If you're still here- here is a preview of the first three days.

FEB 1 - black

FEB 2 - spring

FEB 3 - cake

The 14th as usual will be some sort of Valentine romance type theme(haven't decided specifically yet) and as always there will be a Rest Day.

Expect some repeat prompts. In the past I tried to avoid them but idc anymore.

It's also a Leap Year this year so expect one extra prompt to throw off the symmetry of what's normally 28 days.

Thanks for coming back this year. And thank you to those that still check on this blog.

❤️🧡🤍💜🩷

Keep loving girls

-PuffPink

[suckitdeku]

Hisoillu Week(end)

Prompt (08/23): past (first encounter)

Hisoka (24yo) was bored. He needed a new playmate. Illumi Zoldyck (21yo) just fell into his trap.

TW: blood, homie-cide, probably a violent family, stalkering, sexual references, so on and so forth... but just slightly :) also some typos.

This came out by the headcanon that my dear @lumizold and I had about their meeting. We also roleplayed it and it was the time of my life istg. Guess who roled who. Actually pretty easy. Too easy maybe. But here I tried to wrote them both on my own, and he liked the result, so i guess this is... good! At the very least. So shoutout to him for helping me understand better this difficult and majestic character, illumi zoldyck. He's now the boy of my life. And if it wasn't for him, i couldn't have written this as canonic as it- should be? is? well it's just conjugetion, we don't really care.

Enjoy!

Illumi was in the airship, heading towards a spot in the Padokea region where he got an assignment. A very important assignment... which would have made lots of money, according his grandfather Zeno, who just congratuled him for the assignment received. Well, if the Zoldycks' bank account was happy, the Zoldycks would have been happy too. Right?

He didn't question about it, but he had to admit that the request was pretty weird. Asking to a family of assassins for protection wasn't impossible, nor improbable, but... unusual? definiterly the most unusual thing ever happened to him. His square mind couldn't can a so shapeless thought... it was worst than having an uncovered glass of water in your car while speeding... and drifting. Up a montain road. Through sharp bends. In short, the water spills everywhere and you can't keep it in the glass, where it should have been since the beginning... if there were salted pistachios in that glass, they wouldn't have flown all over. Like the water did. He hated water as a kitten does.

Sitting straight and perfectly still in his second class seat, he kept overthinking his job assignment.

He knew little to nothing about it. Nothing too useful, and that was the reason he was ruminating the best way to make things work in case something went wrong upon his arrival.

A wealthy mafia boss has been repeatedly harassed by a real weirdo, whose incredible strength frightened all of his guards (all the hundred persons designated on working on his safety were terrified by him). He followed him everywhere he went, he stopped him to talk and ask him very molest questions. There, he had obtained this description of him: he was a molest man, tall and muscular with "shoulders like this" (you would say it's an accurate description), with magenta hair pulled back that stayed like this as if under an enchantment, a strange clown make-up with a little star and a teardrop under each eye, odd clothes with card suits motif and ridiculous shoes (again, what an accurate description...), but his voice was mellifluous and hardly you could discern his gentleness and his way of fooling you. It was so stressful, dealing with him. And therefore he was easily recognizable.

Illumk kept looking outiside the window.

The mysterious, molest clown was, among other things, a violent. He threatened to kill him in exactly five days, and already got in a fight with his guards, snuck in his super-secured estate's garden... well, he was a public manace walking on well-functioning legs. Illumi already thought that making those legs useless could be a good idea... but the client commissioned the homicide before he could pull out a joke of his, and so be it. In faxt, his job made more sense this way. Protect the client... by killing an enemy. Yes. This way, now, even the water in the glass had become governable in that devious journey.

And he went back to staring out the window.

He just wanted to go back home and see how his little brother Killua was handling their father's care.

?!?

Illumi felt dumbfounded. He wasn't effectively shocked, but... he still was speechless, his big black eyes whose pupils couldn't stand out over their irides were drawn towards the silent estate in front of him.

Corpses.

Corpses, corpses, corpses.

Corpses everywhere in the garden. Were they planted there as decorations, in order to scare the most cowards or were they there to give troubles to the one who had hired them?

One of the floor lamp along the walkaway had been blown. Something was stuck in it, and had short out part of the electric system, and now it was slowly catching fire.

It was... a playing card.

So, he really was dealing with a clown.

As if he was terrified, in that catatonic state of his, Illumi started running through the corpses, jumping over the blood puddles on his way, without sparing a glance at the deads' abhorrent expressions.

He really felt a bit of dread.

If... he failed...

He would not receive his payment! Those two- really serious parents perfectly capable of taking absolutely rational and logic decisions didn't get paid up front. Once, he tried to advice them about that little, hazardous detail... but after receiving that slap from his father, he couldn't even remember what was so hazardous about getting paid when the job was finished. And now they risked receiving nothing.

And yet, Illumi was right on time... he got embarked like a robot on the first available transportation, with the confidence that the clown would have made his appearence in eighteen hours circa... instead, the clown arrived and made them all dead. Deads. Deads everywhere.

Deads everywhere in every hallway he passed through. Was that a finger, that one he was seeing hanging on the wall with a card? Oh, yeah, it really was a finger. A little finger. Certainly a little finger, because the severed hand five meters further ahead was missing a little finger.

Macabre and thorny details passed under his unperturbed glare to embed in his mind, as if pinning them with pins on an enormous board. It was the summary of all the things he should be reporting his dad, along with his ass in order to let him whip it to a pulp, probably.

He began to spy a room, the only one with an open door, the warm light escaping by slithering through the threshold.

Corpses. Corpses everywhere. A man hanging on the wall, and one crawling to the door to escape, were the ones who immediately caught his big eyes.

A mature man, around his 50s and bald, was being held by the throat by... a... a guy really tall, and big... with a giggle sweet as honey, kind of mellifluous, his pale, muscular arms with protruding veins stretched towards the adult. Something about his appearence seemed off, but he didn't pay that much attention.

He was toying with the man. Like a white kitten pawing maliciously at a tailless lizard, already mortally wounded by his claws and canines. The man almost didn't try to free himself, but he looked like he was waiting for a miracle, a small glimmer of salvation to get his paws off of him.

They were the only ones alive.

— Oh, I guess I have visitors~

His murmur wasn't directed to anyone buy the adult between his hands, who he hold tightly. His face was vermilion. He could already see, already imagine them, some ecchymosis in his eyes, the attempts to free himself getting irregular and limp, his strangled sounds disappearing...

He finally showed himself up, throwing one of his pins already infused with Nen against the clown.

He, just as an expert performer in the circus, looked like he was expecting the pin as if it was a circus act he and his most trustworthy partner tried a thousand times. He moved even before the pin was ready to be flung, and... that was a matter of instants.

He bend his knees, threw back his head and all of his body. His back was a perfect arch in that pose so uncomfortable and artistic altogether. His hair, apparently with nothing left to hold it up, were now slipping across his face with oh so perfect features.

He abruptly released his victim in order to stay in that position, and the man stumbled in place for a single moment.

And threw himself back onto the clown, taking a breath in the process.

He jolted. Illumi, inside his soul, did the same.

The pin ended up on his jugular, and the man kept a hand on his neck, dazed. From the way he staggered you could tell he was dizzy.

With a wince which made him lose his playful smirk, the clown crouched down, ready to spring into action. His hair was in plac- his hair was in place, when had he recombed them?

He was glaring at the pin, without worrying about Illumi two meters away from them. He glared it. And glared at the man, while he was taking the unusual weapon and removing it from his neck. It was disgust. Disgust for his stupidity.

The man tumbled with a thud. His vertigo more dizzy than before with every squirt of blood gushing out the wound, now more deadly than before.

— Everyone knows that wounds with the weapon still inside should not be touched.

Both him and the Zoldyck watched him pant with wide eyes. The realization about his screw-up had hit him hard, just like the thought he was dying. The unknown man, pulling out a playing card, wondered if the victim of that cruel fate was thinking of something in particular: a warm greeting to his liver or the burning desire to spit on his father's and his assassin's tomb. They observed his life slip away from his eyes.

— If the weapon is still inside, you still have the chance to save your life yourself.

A strangled sound.

His eyes glassy.

An embarassing silence. The Zoldyck was stuck and static. He wasn't swinging lightly on his own feet. He wasn't shifting his weight from a side to the other, and he wasn't looking away from the new cadaver, still warm. He looked nervous in his own way. He was extremely illegible.

— Don't tell me that the one whose life I just casually took away was the mafia boss who instructed me to kill you.

— No no~ — the stranger laughed, turning to face him. That Zoldyck was so ugly and ungroomed... black hair cutted in a bob, his athletic figure concealed by a banal track suit in unattractive colors or... generally not very colorful. And it was such a shame, because his doll-like eyes, his perfect and also symmetric features, summed up with those thin, pinky lips with an adorable shape were really attractive. — He was head of the guards.

— So where did you left the person I'm looking for?

— Right at your feet, asking for mercy~

Illumi lowered his gaze. There was the man he previously saw, ho looked like he was crawling for his dear life.

Illumi took a deep breath, staring at him without batting an eye. Literally. Not a movement. He didn't even looked mad. No throbbing vein on his neck. Nor sweat droplets.

The maniac tried to incite him.

— I got bored waiting for you~ I decided to kill time playing cat and mouse. Or mice~ obviously you can see they're city mice~ they didn't run away from me well enough... I had to kill 'em all to satisfy my bloodlus-

The Zoldyck turned around, and calmly started walking away.

The maniac stayed there, looking at the threshold, batting his lashes with surprise.

Was he dumb?

He jogged after him, as if nothing had happened.

!?!

— Weren't you going to kill me~?

— Stop moaning and lower your voice.

— Coomee ooon~ answer me~

— I haven't been paid.

— Yeah, no shit, you didn't finish your job yet if I'm still alive~

— He who hired me is dead. The contract is no longer valid. I'm going back home.

— To mommy and daddy, huh~?

— Yes. If I'm going back home I'm going back to them. Not to other people.

— And don't you want to entertain yourself with me, killing time together~?

— No. I don't have time.

— Yes you have, that guy's dead and no one can disturb us while we're getting to... know each other~

That maniac was sticling his hands out too much. Yep. Pretty molest. He slapped them away, and the man groaned in pleasure.

— No. I have to go back home and explain this trouble.

— So~? I took away your assignment, you should be mad, or scared of their reactions~

— I'm just pensive.

— What else~?

He developed him in his sticky embrace, whispering in his ear. He believed he was pushing him into talking about more interesting matters, with his own hands brushing and caressing his hips, because he felt shivers running on his skin.

— I feel like. Having a lollipop.

— Here, take it, babyboy.

The Zoldyck, amazed, turned to face him, still in his embrace, as if it was nothing. His eyes weren't surprised, but his arched brows definitely were. Now they were both still, one before the other, and were looking at each other. Then, his black eyes slowly drifted away from the stranger's pure gold irises to halt on his lightly stretched-out hand.

Between tapering fingers, tightly hold between long and sharp nails, there was a small lollipop.

He batted his lashes and took it. It was as thin as a card, under his fingertip, and... seemed a card, for real.

— Are you kidding me?

The lollipop, point of contention of the two hands, suddenly became a card. A jolly.

Too fun. He was being sarcastic.

The man smiled like a fox, his lips stretched and closed, eyes narrowed. — It's a trick~

Illumi squeezed his eyelids, unamused, and took some distance from him to look at his face. His make-up was odd, it was true. He just noticed it. It seemed like a make-up for clown, maybe because of the teardrop and the tiny star, but... clowns didn't paint their face that way. They were... so colourful and showy.

His gaze wenr back to normal, while the man kept staring at him. — You... are not the clown I was looking for, right?

The man lost his smile, and gazed at him. His eyes had lost their light. He didn't seem to be enjoying himself either. — I am a magician, little Zoldyck.

And he parted his lips in a "o", his brows lightly arched as if comprehensive. — So you're not who I'm looking for. — and he added under his breath that, in fact, the magician make-up wasn't included in the identikit, and that he was licky he recognized it. The man's frown deepened.

— I indeed am the one~ you silly~

— No, you're wrong. I'm looking for a clown. He looks exactly like you... but he paints his face like a clown.

— You dummy, I'm the one who persecuted your client~ I did it on purpose, in order to lure you here~

The Zoldyck parted again his thin lips in a "o" shape, and his eyebrows raised, too. Maybe he realized he was in a trap.

— But I was told to look for a clown... you're a magician, I noticed it.

— I am a magician, my name's Hisoka, — he spelled his introduction for the idiot. — As a matter of fact, however, I get mistaken for... a cheap clown.

— Clowns are not cheap. — said the young man. On second thought, he looked really young — They make you laugh, scared and kill people.

— Only in horror movies.

— My life is a horror movie.

Hisoka smiled a little hearing those words. — You're an enjoyable person, little Zoldyck~

— I'm not little. I'm the firstborn.

— But how~ how old are-

He got interrupted by an unpleasant noise. In the quiet of the night, to sweep away the blissful and relaxing sensation of the humid air brushing the naked skin, several sirens got closer to the location of the slaughter.

The Zoldyck started running to the woods. Hisoka, without missing a bit, followed right after.

— And here I thought you enjoyed attention, all eyes on you. — the Zolduck murmured, between a long stride and the other. — Back there, there are lots of eyes ready to watch you and lots of hands ready to catch you.

— But no one could do it like you~

That answer didn't break him down, instead he quickened his pase. Hisoka was stalking him.

— You still haven't ask me a single thing. — he said after one minute of jogging in the wood.

The Zoldyck didn't spare him a single look. — I don't care.

— But we're walking together~

— You're following me.

— Talk to me, coomee oonnn~

— I gotta go.

Hisoka grabbed him in his embrace, forcing the other to stop.

— What's your name~?

— I have no time. — was his crude response

He found himself pointing a pin against his throat, and his Adam's apple grazed it as it bobbed to swallow and moan.

But Hisoka craved for more. He crawled over his body as if he were dying. He didn't care about the pin, may the pain be welcomed, on the contrary. But he needed to be with him.

— I'm bored~ so bored~ I need... someone on my level to fight with~ I've set a trap for you to meet you, little Zoldyck.

So he had revealed his cards. I hoped to intrigue him. It had to intrigue him. He had to get it out of that head somehow. Maybe it would all end in a bloodbath.

But the Zoldyck just kept glaring at him. — I'm sorry. I can't stay here risking to het caught. If you know my surname, you also know my family and the rumors going around us.

Hisoka nodded, purring on him. He wasn't trying to leave his arms anymore. — No one know your names and your faces, so infamous in everywhere in Padokea~

— My father would not appreciate me ending up in jail. — he pointed out. — I don't know about you, but I don't want to get arrested.

Hisoka's face leaned over towards his. — When will I see you again, then~?

And the young man allowed himself to be deceived. He paid no attention to that touch, to those hungry looks, and only said a few words.

— Are you able to remember phone numbers?

A shiver run down his spine. A Zoldyck's phone number was the best he could hope for, obviously after a fuck/fight with one of them. — Ohh~ well, yes, yeah...

— I'm going to tell you. — he cutted short.

But Hisoka moaned, attaching himself on his body. Illumi felt with a growing embarrassment... something poking against his hips. — Oh no, just not right away~ if you write it on my arm... I'll show you a trick and no one will see your number~

The young man stayed still, looking at him. In silence. His eyes shone a bit. — A magic trick?

— I'm a magician for a reason~

He batted his lashes. — Arm. — he streched out his hand.

Hisoka vibrated with excitement, extending it to to him, nonchalantly. He still had his lips streched in that fox-like smirk of his. — How merciful of you~ you allow me to still stay close to you and give me such a cuddle~? I must seem to you to be on the verge of death and in need of one last wish~

The young Zoldyck took something out of his pocket. A small pin, so sharp, the top of it green. Slowly, looking at him in the eye, he started likinv it, his pink tongue leaving saliva at every lick.

Hisoka didn't know exactly what that little show he was witnessing was, but he knew that he didn't mind it at all. His throbbing member between his legs told him so. The warm pang in his stomach told him so. The eyes that became pools of liquid gold at the heavenly sight.

When it was all nice and moist, he dully took it away from his mouth.

— Are you going to write with that~?

— Yes. How are you going to hide the number?

— With my favorites Nen technique, of course~

He carried it lightly against his skin. He pressed the tip gently, and when he broke the skin a trickle of blood flowed calmly.

The night was torn from its quiet by the moans and cries of pleasure of a man, sweetly tortured by a very nice, unique and skilled assassin, who loved to dilate time under his expert touch to prick it with pins.

Hisoka couldn't remember ever feeling so excited.

When their paths separated, the young assassin had discovered that Bungee-gum has the properties of both rubber and gum, and Texture Surprise could be very useful in cases where the wounds needed to be hidden in some way, and Hisoka had discovered that the person with whom he had pleasantly spent minutes of total ecstasy was called Illumi Zoldyck, and that his telephone number was... divine when written in blood.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series Chapter 1

Summary: A stranger turns up at the store that catches your eye Pairing: Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 4.7k~ Warnings: Explicit language but that's about it lol Start from the beginning

Two years prior

I stir awake to the sound of the birds chirping outside my window as they always do. "Fuck" I say under my breath, stretching and wiping the sleep out of my eyes. I roll over and check the notifications on my phone and widen my eyes in panic realizing I didn't set an alarm and was bombarded by texts from my boss and coworker two hours ago. 

"Shit!" I say jumping out of bed and rushing around my apartment trying to get ready. I throw on my shoes and jacket and run out the door making my way to the subway station as quickly as I possibly can. My job is only three stops away from my place but those stops seem to take twice if not three times as long as they usually do in my mind.

Bolting out of the station I make my way over to the convenience store I work at. "Fuck me, what took you so long? Your shift started 3 hours ago" my coworker says stating the obvious. "I know shut up I forgot to set an alarm last night" I say rushing past them and into the break room to throw my stuff into a locker. 

I tiptoe past my bosses office but he can't help but hear my lame attempt at being undetected. "y/n" I hear being said from inside, (he only ever calls me that when he's mad at me). I'm in trouble. 

"Yes?" I say rolling my eyes before taking another step. "Get in here. Now!" he says in a tone I can no longer ignore. 

"Hi" I say dragging out the last letter as I make my way in until I see his face become even more furious. "Sit" he barks. "Yes sir" I say under my breath just loud enough to be heard but not enough to merit a second glance.

"Three times, three times this month have you been late and we're barely past the second week" he spits at me "And let's not forget the amount of times you've been late since you started working here" he says taking a deep breath at the end and leaning back in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. 

"What am I gonna do with you?" he says rhetorically. "I-" I start. "I've had enough of your excuses y/n, I can't keep letting you break the rules like this. I've got a business to run and you working here hasn't made my job any easier" he breathes out. 

"I know I really do but I-" "Can you please just listen and stop trying to wiggle your way out of being held accountable. I would've fired your ass a long time ago if your father and I weren't brothers. I'm doing this not only for you but for the sake of your parents. Try to understand how your irresponsibility affects not only me but everyone around you. I'm not sure how much longer I can put up with your antics". "Please no! Uncle you know how much I need this job! If you were to cut me off then I know for a fact that I'm not gonna be able to make it in this city" I implore. 

"Maybe you weren't cut out to live in this city. There are a lot of hard workers out there, people who would kill to live here and you're just spitting in their face by wasting the days away sleeping in and daydreaming. You're not taking advantage of the opportunities that you could have if you worked a bit harder and just grew up" he says raising his voice and getting out of his chair to tower over me. 

I cower back inside myself taking my much deserved verbal beating and just be thankful that he isn't a violent person. 

He takes a deep breath and goes back to his seat and calms himself down. "Just please" he says in a softer tone "Start to get your shit together kid. You've got your whole life ahead of you and I would hate to see you end up like me, running a convenience store in the wrong part of town.

"But I thought you loved your job?" I question. "Ha! Yeah right, that's just what I tell people so I don't have to deal with their pity. Are there good days? Sure, but there sure as hell are more days that go to absolute shit that outweighs those good days". I nod my head in silent agreement, having a few stories of my own in my back pocket. 

"Listen up! You've got one more chance girl you hear me? One. More. I really shouldn't be doing this but I want to see if you can turn things around with this last push" he finishes. "Really? Thank you so much uncle I won't let you down!" I say going up to shake his hand furiously. 

"I'm pretty sure you will but hey, I've always been a gambling man" he says with a smile on his face. I go to tell him how bad that habit has become, but under the circumstances, I decide to let it go this time. After bowing to him a few times I quickly rush out of his office before he can change his mind and get to work.

I pass by my friend and coworker Grey at the counter on my way out and prepare myself for yet another lecture. "Old man gave you another chance huh?" she says blowing a bubble in her Polar Ice gum. It's one of her habits that annoys me the most but hey, she's a pretty good friend besides that so I can't really complain. 

Good friends are hard to come by these days so when I find one I tend to let them stick around. "Yeah thankfully, it pays to have connections sometimes" I say shrugging my shoulders as I put on the hideous green vest with the store's logo adorned on the top left side along with my name tag placed right below. 

I grab a box full of candy and head over to their designated spot in the store to get started. Straightening up the area before restocking the shelves I start from the bottom and make my way towards the top. I shake my head at the amount of open wrappers and half eaten candy bars I come across left by the many delinquents who occupy the store on a daily basis. 

"I'm surprised there are any left at this rate" I say under my breath. "I know right? Kids these days just aren't taught right from wrong anymore" I hear someone say in agreement. "The adults aren't any better" I retort hearing the voice laugh at my off the cuff comment.

I widen my eyes realizing I have no idea who I've spoken to and quickly stand up while keeping my face to the ground as I apologize to the unknown voice. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to- What I meant to say was- I'm sorry" I say tripping over my words in apology. I hear him let out a short scoff laughing at my attempt to repent for my honest criticism. 

"Hey it's okay. I appreciate your honesty. It's refreshing to say the least" he says, easing my nerves a bit. Feeling a little bit more comfortable I slowly stand up straight but as I do I realize I've been speaking to the most attractive man I have ever laid my eyes on. Pouty lips curved into a crooked smile, skin the color of sunlight, sharp catlike eyes that seem to see through my entire existence, and hair the darkest shade of midnight black I've ever seen. 

I freeze, mesmerized by his beauty balancing an air of androgyny with an adorable boyish charm. "Hey" he says while extending his hand towards me in greeting. "I'm Jimin" he finishes with a slight smile, giving me butterflies. 

"H-hey" I say taking his hand "I'm Luna" I say nervously in response."Luna? Huh, but your name tag says y/n though" he replies. "Oh well my real name is y/n but I go by Luna most of the time" I admit."Luna is a really pretty name. Did you grow up in Seoul?" he asks tilting his head a bit."Well I was born here but I grew up in America and came back when I was about 8 so yeah pretty much" I say, answering his question as calmly as I can.

"Oh wow that really cool! Was it hard for you to learn Korean at that age?"he inquires in pure curiosity."Well we always spoke Korean in the house so it was pretty easy for me to transition here. Although it did take a while to get rid of my American accent" I laugh. He smiles a bit at my openness which makes my heart flutter "I'm sure it was adorable". "I-" I start but am soon cut off by Grey. 

"Hey Luna can I get your help with something?" she questions. "Um yeah just a second. Sorry but I've really got to get back to work" I say picking up the box full of candy I have yet to put away and turn towards the front of the store. "Yeah sure no worries. Hey Luna" he says making me look back at him after turning to walk away. 

He comes towards me and reaches into the box to grab a chocolate bar. "Sorry I just wanted to grab one of these before you go" he says teasingly when there's clearly a whole shelf of that exact one right next to him. "Oh okay, um bye" I say and quickly scurry down the aisle towards Grey.

"You okay?" she says raising a brow at me. "I thought he might be bothering you since you guys had been talking for a while so I wanted to give you an escape just in case" she says, concern clearly her motive, none of which is written on her face or in her voice. She almost sounds uninterested if you didn't know better. "

Yeah no I'm fine don't worry. He was nice" I say clearly blushing. "He's cute huh?" she says looking me up and down, reading my body language. "What do you mean?" I ask, trying to play coy but I can't help but smile at the thought of our interaction. "Obviously he is if you're acting like that. What's his name?" she asks, intentionally getting louder and louder. Meanwhile looking around the store to gauge his distance, doing it loud enough to embarrass me but soft enough not to gain his attention.

"Is he single?" she asks, finally bringing her wandering gaze back to me but can't help but give me a slight smirk. "Shhhh" I say covering her mouth in an effort to keep our conversation away from him. 

"Okay yes, he's cute but can you save the teasing for later, or never? He's still in the store and I'm pretty sure I've already made a big enough fool of myself for the day as is" I say in a hushed tone keeping the conversation hopefully between the two of us this time.

"Alright I'll be quiet. Did you finish up over there?" she questions trying to mark off the various tasks on the nightly checklist. "No, not yet. I started to clean it up but then he started talking to me until you called me over" I admit. "Okay well once he leaves get back on it okay? Why don't you take a turn minding the counter while I start sweeping?" she suggests. 

"Yeah I can do that" I say getting nervous for the next interaction I have with him. "You'll be fine" she says dryly observing the way I start to fidget with hands. "You set me up didn't you?" I say coming to the realization of the predicament she's put me in. "Yup" she's says with a devious smile as she scurries off to the cleaning closet taking away my last hope of escaping. Well I guess in the meantime I'll take a second to calm down before he-

"Luna?" I hear Jimin say. "Yes" I reply whipping my head around towards the direction I heard him speaking from realizing he's just a few feet behind me. "Oh I just wanted to let you know that I'm ready to check out" he says smiling down at me. "Oh right yeah let me ring you up" I say while rushing over to the counter. He follows close behind me and meets me on the other side. 

"Okay that'll be $4.03" he nods and hands me a 10 dollar bill. I take it and can't help but feel a spark between us when his hand bushes against mine. I jerk back slightly and busy myself with finishing the transaction. "$5.97 is your change" I say going to give it back to him again making our hands touch yet again. 

"Thanks Luna" he says sliding his hand away from mine slower than necessary prolonging our touch. "See you later?" he says with a slight questioning tone behind it while turning to leave. "Yeah sure, see you later" I say while nervously reciprocating his goodbye. I hear the bells on the door jingling solidifying his departure and I can't help but let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay that was adorable" Grey says sneaking up on me, another smirk accompanying her teasing tone. There are very few things that Grey takes pleasure in and one of those, unfortunately is teasing me mercilessly when it comes to guys. 

"Don't do that!" I say, clutching my chest in surprise, slapping her shoulder right after. "What? Come on dude don't act like you wouldn't do the same if the roles were reversed" she says laughing at my surprise. 

"Whatever" I pout. "That guy is pretty hot though not gonna lie, no wonder you're blushing" she says continuing to tease me. "Yeah he was" I say starting to daydream. "Oh girl you got it bad!" she says scoffing and shaking her head. "I do not! He was just really cute okay. Leave me alone" I whine starting to get fed up with her teasing. 

"Whatever you say dude. So what was his name again? Jaemin? Minji?" she questions, listing off names that she obviously knows are incorrect. "Jimin" I say glancing out the window. 

"Wait why?" I ask, whipping my face back to her in a panic. "I'm just gonna try to see if I can find him on sns or something. I wanna see if he's single before you start falling for him" she says switching between apps doing her best to find him. "I'm trying to protect you okay?" she explains while patting my head. "Are you sure you aren't just doing it because you're nosy?" I question, crossing my arms. "Same thing" she says waving me off as she continues to scourer the internet for our resident hottie of the week.

"Okay found him! Park Jimin, 21. Oooo he's younger than you" she teases. "Yeah yeah what else does it say?" I question leaning in closer to see what she's found. It's really true what they say about girls being FBI agents when it comes to social media. "Mmmm not much, he's into dancing and fashion, huh, that's interesting" she says looking puzzled. "What? What is it?" I ask, getting even closer feeling a bit anxious. 

"Oh nothing, there's a picture of a girl on here though but you can't see her face. He didn't tag her either" she says still preoccupied with finding more information. "So he has a girlfriend?" I conclude, feeling a bit dejected. "Well that's the interesting part. That picture was from a year ago but that's the only picture of her. In fact that's the only picture he has of any girl on his entire profile." she says. 

"So ex girlfriend? But why keep the picture up if she's his ex?" I question. "I don't know dude I think unfortunately the results come up as inconclusive" she lets out feeling deflated. "Oh well, I guess if he comes back we'll find out eventually" I say.

"If who comes back?" a voice says behind us. I turn around and immediately smile at the owner of the voice "Kook!" I say getting up and rushing over to give him a hug. "Oh just this hottie that was here earlier" Grey says. "Ooo scandalous! But aren't you guys supposed to be working and not stalking cute boys on the internet?" he says with a knowing smirk. 

"It's called multitasking" I say while he gives me a kiss on the crown of my head. "Ew gross please stop I don't want to have to bleach my eyes again" Grey whines, shielding her eyes with her hands, hiding us from her vision. "Don't hate just because you're not a fan of friendly affection" Jungkook says teasing. 

"More like any affection at all. Especially PDA. Come on guys get a room" she says in disgust. "How many times do I have to tell you Grey, we're just friends" I say, shaking my head at her and pulling away from Jungkook's embrace. Grey glances up at him with a knowing look and sees him shaking his head prompting her to change the subject.

"Anyways, Jungkook what are you doing here this time?" she asks sounding uninterested as always. "Damn Grey can't I stop in to see my favorite girls every once in a while?" he says, draping his arm around my shoulders. "Don't call me that" she says with a deadpan expression. 

"Okay fine. My favorite girl and her tagalong?" he corrects with a cheeky smile. "You know what? Why don't you just call me by my name okay?" she argues. "Not a fan of the pet names? Okay okay I get it" he chuckles. 

"Luna" he says in an effort to gain my attention. "Yeah?" I acknowledge, turning to face him. "What are you doing this weekend?" he asks with anticipation written all over his face. 

"Um nothing to my knowledge" I reply and quickly hear someone start to talk over us before anyone can speak again. "Good, because you're working two ten hour shifts this weekend" my uncle says while bringing out another box of assorted products to stock. 

"Uncle please" I say with painful annoyance. "No I don't wanna hear anything. You need to make up for the hours that you missed and Sunghoon has the weekend off so I need you to pick up the slack" "But sir I was just-" Jungkook starts trying to come to my aid but is cut off yet again. 

"Jungkook I don't need any lip from you either" he says authoritatively while walking away to busy himself with a task in another part of the store. "Yes sir" he mumbles, bringing his head down and slightly pouting. I swear if he was a bunny I would see his floppy little ears start to droop.

"Sorry Kook, but what was it you wanted to ask me? Maybe we can still do it after I get off?" I offer, giving him a soft smile. He looks at me, still a little sad but I can see a little glimmer of hope coming back. "Well I wanted to see if you wanted to have a picnic or something since our friendship anniversary is coming up" he says returning the soft smile I'm giving him. 

"Has it really been another year? How many does that make now?" I say in surprise. "Fifteen!" he answers, satisfied with the answer and feeling proud of how long we've known each other. "I can't believe it's been that long!" I say starting to reminisce about all the memories of our many adventures together. 

"Yeah but I guess having a picnic late at night isn't as fun as it would be during the day" he mumbles, drooping again. "I've got an idea!" I say with a mischievous smile. "Really? What is it?" he questions, interest peaked. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about any of it. I'll take care of everything! The only thing you need to make sure of is to bring a car. You think your brother would let you borrow his?" I question. "I think I could make that happen" he says with an inquisitive smile clearly suspicious of what I'm planning. 

"Don't give me that look!" I say, hitting him on the shoulder. "It'll be fun!" I say excitedly. "I'm sure it will be but usually when you get this excited about things they tend to be illegal" I widen my eyes at his sudden call out. "Shhhh pipe down. I don't need my uncle to catch onto the things I do in my free time" I say slightly panicked.

"I heard that!" my uncle says from the other side of the store. "Plus you're not slick Luna. I've known about your delinquent activities for a while now but it's never gotten serious enough to bring up. Just don't get caught, I'm not about to bail your ass out of jail. Got it?" he warns while coming over to talk to us again. 

"Yep got it" I say nodding my head in agreement. "And that goes for you as well" He says pointing at Grey. "Hey what did I do" she asks, slightly offended. "Don't play innocent with me. I know you're the mastermind behind these schemes half the time" he says nodding towards her. "How do you know that?" she says, crossing her arms over her chest trying to act cool but still visibly surprised at his knowledge of our delinquency. 

"You do realize that most of the time you're hatching your plans in my store? I know everything that goes on in here" he says mirroring her posture, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fair enough" she mumbles, admitting to her part in it.

"Why aren't you giving Jungkook a lecture about all of this too?" she pouts motioning towards him. "Because I know he's smart enough not to get caught and he's also the reason you guys don't get caught 95% of the time" he says clapping him on the shoulder. 

"He's got a point there" Jungkook admits. "Okay okay whatever. The point of this lecture is don't get caught and don't do anything too crazy. We got it. Anything else?" I say clearly ready for this conversation to be over. 

"Yeah, you get back to work! He says pointing a finger at me. "And Grey start paying for the gum you chew or I'm gonna start taking it out of your paycheck." he threatens pointing towards her as well. 

"Don't you already take it out of my paycheck?" she questions clearly done as well, grabbing another box of products to start restocking. "Ya! Don't get smart with me young lady!" he says following after her. "Yeah yeah" is the last thing we hear as they head further into the store.

"Sorry Kook I guess it's time for you to head out" I say giving him a shrug. "That's alright I should probably get going anyways. I've gotta get to class" he says while giving me another kiss on my head. "That's right, Mr. College Man can't be late to art class" I say smirking at him. He rolls his eyes "Love you loser" he yells as he towards the exit. "Love you too weirdo" I respond waving him off. I watch him leave but I can't help but feel disappointed by his departure.

Jungkook is going to the best Visual Arts school in Seoul and I'm so proud of him! He could've left us behind after high school and made friends with the rich kids in his classes but instead he still comes in and hangs out with us as often as he can. We all grew up together and I honestly don't know what I would do without these two. 

Grey on the other hand is trying her hand at producing music. It hasn't been taking off but she's gotten a few jobs here and there working for smaller artists that are just getting started as well. She's been building a portfolio and honestly she's really good! She just lacks the confidence to take the next step. I've been pushing her to try to apply at different schools to get proper training but she doesn't think she's good enough yet and needs to make sure she stands out so she can land a scholarship. Otherwise even if she did get accepted she wouldn't be able to afford it.

Me on the other hand? Well honestly I have no clue what I want to do. I've worked just about every part time job you could imagine just trying to stay afloat. I don't have time for dreams. At this point I feel like I'm just existing, which is a sucky way to live out your 20s but unfortunately that's the life I'm living. 

Growing up I had many different dream jobs that I had thought about. Fashion designer, Makeup artist, Dancer, but at the end of the day like Grey, I've gotta build up my portfolio to really stand out and I just haven't had the time to do any of that. 

Just like I've been encouraging her to take that next step, Jungkook has been the one in my corner. The one who's always had so much hope and confidence in me and my dreams. Whenever I needed someone he was always there for me. He even spent the night in the hallway outside of my apartment just because he still wanted to be there for me even though I didn't want him to. 

Jungkook is one of the only people in this world I know I can trust. Without him I don't think I'd be here today. 

I've gone through so much and when it got to the point where I felt like I didn't want to exist anymore he was the one that brought me back, nursed me back to health and made sure that I was never left alone. He is my safe place and he always will be. 

I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone as pure and loving as him. He's my best friend and my rock. Life wouldn't be as bright and colorful without him.

"Hey lady are you gonna ring me up or what?" I hear an old man say breaking me out of my daydream. "Sorry sir I didn't mean to make you wait, my apologies" I say while giving him a shallow bow. "Yeah whatever just get on with it" he grumbles, clearly not phased by my apology. I ring up his various items which include a couple bottles of soju, a few bags of snacks, a cup of ramen- "Oh and a pack of cigarets" he slurs. 

"Of course sir" I respond while turning my back to grab the ones he selected. "That'll be $20.35" he tosses the money onto the counter while I place all of his items into a bag. "Thank you sir have a good day" I say while he stumbles his way out of the store. 

"Are people always that rude?" the next woman in line says while placing her items on the counter, glaring daggers into the man's back. "Yeah but I'm used to it at this point. As long as they don't get nasty or angry it doesn't really bother me. It's to be expected working in this part of town" I finish off while scanning all of her items. 

"That doesn't make it right" she say counters, clearly upset for me. "It's alright, for the most part I kind of ignore it" I say before telling her her the total. She swipe her card and I hand her the bag with her items once the transaction goes through. "Well for your sake I hope they cut you some slack" she say before walking away from the counter and saying goodbye. "Thank you, have a nice day" I say to her, genuinely meaning it this time around.

"You too kiddo" she says before walking into the outside world. 'Why can't all customers be like that?' I think, having a warm feeling after the interaction. "Yah! Quit Ignoring me. I'm ready to leave" the next customer says sneaking up on me. This is gonna be a long day.

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