#my queue has never been this full man

[txrks]

Tag Dump 1

[theemporium]

[1.7k] they want to believe jack when he says he has a girlfriend. they really do. it's just kind of hard to do so when they never see her. or, in which everyone is worried jack has found himself in a parasocial relationship.

.

“Fuck.” 

Jack raised his head, finding his attention drawn to his captain sitting on the aisle across from him on the bus. He watched as the man began patting himself down before he let out a sigh, standing up to reach for his bag on the overhead shelf. Yet, whatever he was trying to find was a fruitless endeavour as he settled back in his seat with a frown on his face.

“You good?” 

“Hm,” Nico hummed, letting out another long breath as he leaned back in his seat. “Yeah, I just forgot my headphones.”

“Nico Hischier not being organised?” Jack teased, a smile growing on his face. “Someone alert the authorities.”

Nico huffed out a laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha.” 

“Just messin’ with you, cap,” Jack mused, deciding to be the better person and not point out the fact he could see Nico’s dimple even if the boy tried to act like he wasn’t laughing. “Here, I’ll share my music with you. Because I’m nice like that.”

The older boy raised his brows. “Your music for the full five hour drive?”

Jack raised his brows in return. “Do you have anything else better to do?”

“Fair enough,” Nico murmured before he reached over, taking the airpod and slipping it into his ear. “But I get to add some songs too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jack waved him off before handing over his phone. “Maybe try more English rap songs so I can understand them too, yeah?” 

“Sure, because I’m nice like that,” Nico said with a grin before he turned to shift his attention to Jack’s phone. He clicked on the queue, his brows furrowing slightly when he saw the songs lined up. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Nico murmured. “I just thought you were a country music kind of guy. Never thought you’d be into the rock scene.”

Jack’s cheeks burned as he let out a slightly strained laugh. “I was, uh, broadening my horizons.”

Nico turned to look at him. “So you chose one band? You know, I know a couple of bands if you want them—”

“I’m fine with that band,” Jack said, flashing his captain a smile. 

“You’ve liked every one of their songs.”

“Mhm.”

“So, you know you like the genre, at least. Maybe you should try—”

“I’m good.”

“Jack—”

“Start queuing songs before I take my phone back, Hisch.”

Nico stared at him for a few moments, noting the way he fidgeted in his seat with his cheeks flushed far brighter than they should be with the bus AC blasting. But, Nico decided he would be nice this time around and not bring it up.

Not yet, at least.

Plus the band Jack had chosen was pretty good, if he did say so himself.

...

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yourusername ready to rock north america❤️🖤

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user i am going to the nashville show!!!

user she is THE moment

user omg i can't believe the tour has already started

user BKEWBFJBWEKFBKWEJBF

jackhughes congrats on the tour!! ur gonna kill it!!❤️‍🔥

user JACK HUGHES????

user who the fuck is jack hughes?

...

“What are you giggling at?”

“I’m not giggling at anything.” 

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You literally giggled as you said that.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Unfortunately for Luke, this had been a recurring conversation over the last few weeks because, despite what he said, Jack spent the better part of his free time giggling at his phone. It was sickening and annoying and Luke was so done with trying to scroll through TikTok with his brother snickering like some teenage girl in the background. 

It was starting to grate on his last nerve.

“You’re so full of shit,” Luke grumbled as he shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, narrowing his eyes on his big brother from over the kitchen counter. 

“Maybe you should find someone to text and stop bothering me,” Jack retorted, the words slipping past his lips so casually, almost like he hadn’t realised what he said. 

But Luke heard loud and clear.

He straightened up in his seat, his annoyance now replaced with curiosity and he flashed his brother an inquisitive look. “Who are you messaging that has you giggling?” 

“I am not giggling,” Jack huffed out before he lifted his head, finally looking away from his phone screen to catch his brother’s gaze. “And, for your information, I am texting my girlfriend.” 

A few moments of silence passed as both boys stared at each other.

Luke blinked. “When the fuck did you get a girlfriend?” 

“It’s new,” Jack said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. 

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “How new?” 

“Just a couple of months or so,” Jack murmured, at least having the guts to look a little sheepish as a light blush spread across his cheeks. 

“Months?!” Luke repeated with a scoff, the bowl of cereal he was snacking on now long forgotten. “How come this is the first time I’m hearing of it?” 

“We are keeping things private!” Jack defended. 

“I’m your brother!” Luke retorted. “You’re meant to tell me shit. I’d tell you if I had a girlfriend! Quinn would tell me if he had a girlfriend!” 

“But neither of you do,” he snapped back with a shit-eating grin. 

“And you supposedly do,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “What’s her name?” 

“That’s not important.”

Luke blinked. “Uh, yeah, dude, I think it is.” 

Jack shrugged again. “Maybe I don’t want you to know.” 

“Why not?” Luke questioned, watching his brother just shrug again—not that he was getting fucking sick of that or anything—before he glared. “Is it someone I know?” 

“Maybe.” 

“You’re being ridiculously vague right now and it’s annoying as fuck,” Luke told him. 

Jack’s grin widened. “I know!” 

“Fine, keep your stupid secrets,” Luke grumbled as he reached for his spoon again, rolling his eyes when he heard Jack laughing. “Like I fucking care anyways.” 

But he did. 

He really fucking did and he would find out who this secret girlfriend was if it’s the last thing he did. 

...

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yourusername las vegas, you ALWAYS make me feel at home❤️🖤

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user MOTHER!!!

user hot AND talented. your fav could never

user new music when!!!

user THE SHIRT-

jackhughes ur so pretty😍😍😍

user not this guy again

user not a man

notzegrasipromise JACK???

...

...

“Yeah, I mean, I love my parents but I wish my girlfriend could’ve made it out. It would have been nice to have her here for the family skate too.” 

That was all it took for the hustling and bustling of the locker room to come to a screeching halt. 

Jack frowned, his hands holding his jersey in his hand that he had just taken off as he glanced around the room. All of the boys were giving him different looks: some concerned, some amused, some confused. It was throwing him off. 

“Uh, what?” 

“You have a girlfriend?” It was Dawson who eventually asked, his brows furrowed together in questioning.

“Yeah,” Jack nodded, feeling an odd sense of deja vu from the conversation he had with Luke a few weeks ago. “Geez, I didn’t realise we had to announce stuff like this now.”

“I mean,” Jesper spoke up, shrugging his shoulders. “We’re close, yeah? We usually just tell each other these things. You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“Don’t bother asking for her name,” Luke grumbled from the other side of the locker room.

“She’s not coming to the family skate?” Nico questioned, focusing the attention back to Jack who simply shrugged.

“She travels a bunch for work,” Jack explained. “Or, at least, for right now. She’s out in Nashville right now so she couldn’t make it.”

“But I thought you were all over that rockstar girl,” Simon spoke up from his stall, leaning back against the cubby, half dressed and legs spread. “Every time I open Twitter, I see it.”

Jack’s cheeks burned. 

Jesper gave him a disapproving look. “Don’t tell me you’ve been commenting on another girl’s instagram when you have a girlfriend. What does she think about it?”

“She likes them!” Jack defended. 

Jesper frowned. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of desperate on instagram,” Simon continued with a snort.

“Well, she hasn’t told me to stop,” Jack huffed.

“Yes, because a rockstar with a couple of million followers would personally reach out to stop you,” Luke drawled, a heavy layer of sarcasm dripping from his words.

“She would, considering she is my girlfriend.”

Once again, the locker room fell silent.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Luke eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “You really think we believe that you pulled her?” 

Jack frowned. “What’s so hard to believe about that?”

“She’s an international rockstar and you’re just a dude who plays hockey,” Luke retorted. 

“So are you!” 

“Yeah, and I’m not sitting here trying to tell people I’m dating Taylor Swift, am I?”

“This is different,” Jack huffed before looking around the room. “I’m dating her! I really am! We met at that rock bar in Jersey City a couple of months ago and we’ve been chatting ever since.”

The boys all gave each other various looks.

“Fine, don’t believe,” Jack grumbled as he leaned down to start untying his skates. “I know I’m telling the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.”

For the record, only Jim and Ellen Hughes showed up to the New Jersey Devils’ family skate. 

...

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yourusername east coast, we are coming for you!!❤️🖤

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user i cannot believe the tour is almost over

user NEW MUSIC WHEN

user i'm seeing you in eight days!!!!

user oh my god she is so hot

jackhughes coming back to the better coast❤️🖤

user omg he is copying the hearts too

user he is delusional

user it is the devils colours

user you sound just as delusional as him

...

“So, I’ve been talking to Luke.” 

“Oh great,” Jack grumbled as he sunk further into the pillows of the living room couch.

“And I went on Twitter.”

“You must have been pretty bored to redownload it,” Jack commented, suddenly finding interest in the strings of his hoodie, instead of his brother’s face on the phone screen. He should have known it was odd when Quinn messaged to check he was home alone before he called.

“Jack.” 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jack whined as he tried to hide himself deeper into his hoodie. “Whatever Luke told you is bullshit.”

“So you’re not telling people you’re dating an international rock sensation?” 

“Well, I’m not telling everyone,” Jack corrected. “But I am dating her!”

“Uh huh.”

“Not you too,” Jack groaned, throwing his head back and finding his gaze locked on some random part of the ceiling. “Quinn, why would I lie about this?” 

“Because you took a rough hit to the head.”

His head quickly snapped down to glare at his older brother who had the audacity to smirk in response. 

“We’re just worried, Jack. You don’t mention a single thing about talking to her. Then you’re showing up in her comments. And then you’re claiming to date her. All whilst playing and training like normal.”

Jack rolled his eyes.

“It’s fine if you have a little crush or something but—”

“She isn’t just a crush, she’s my girlfriend,” Jack repeated for the umpteenth time. “You’ll see soon.”

Quinn didn’t look awfully convinced  but he knew better than to push Jack on the matter any further. He instead shifted the conversation to a power play from the game before and, thankfully, Jack took the bait. In fact, he was far too busy rambling to even notice Quinn typing out a message straight to Luke. 

quinnifer: ur right 

quinnifer: he’s a fucking lost cause

...

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yourusername tour was a dream but happy to finally come home to you jackhughes ❤️🖤

view all 37,373 comments

jackhughes glad to have my girl home❤️🖤

user WHAT

user a hard launch post tour??? oh she is sick

user i can't believe we lost her to a man

user IS THIS NOT THE HOCKEY DUDE

user omg he actually stood a chance

trevorzegras WHAT THE FUCK

trevorzegras WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user omg one sings rock and the other plays at the rock

user IT WAS WRITTEN IN THE STARS

lhughes_06 holy shit

_quinnhughes didn't see that one coming

trevorzegras HOW WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY

user i think hockey dude broke his hockey friend

jackhughes he will be fine

trevorzegras NO HE WILL NOT BE FINE

trevorzegras ANSWER YOUR PHONE ROWDY

jackhughes leave me alone, i'm trying to spend time with my girlfriend

yourusername it's true :) very little clothes included

trevorzegras i'm going to go throw myself off a cliff

user what the fuck did i just wake up to

.

[churipu]

JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[gallusrostromegalus]

So I may have been browsing through your AEIWAM tag and came across your writing of Komamura saying it's too hot in summer when you have a fur coat you can't take off. By that logic he's gonna always be sitting beside Hitsugaya in Captain meetings if he can swing it, especially in the early days, cause that boy is like a mini air conditioner next to him. XD

Wolves are winter creatures. The double coat, the snowshoe paws, the proclivity for cuddlepiles- if Sajin could move somewhere that never got above 40F he'd be in heaven. Alas, he lives in a major city that hits triple digits in the summer, so he keeps close track of the little pieces of winter he can find.

The first person to realize his little game was Unohana. She knew about the wolfman thing- Yamamoto trusts her as much as Sasakibe, and persuaded Sajin that, should a medical emergency arise, it should not also be a medical surprise.

She is of course, the pinnacle of Medical Confidentiality.

...but his name came up during one of the Shinigami Women's Association meetings/boozing sessions, and a distinct schism appeared.

On one side was Soi Fon, Nanao, and Herself, who all found Komamura to be very polite, professional and reliable if somewhat reticent and at times, aloof.

"I swear I can't get more than three words out of him!" Nanao despairs.

"I like him. He knows how to Shut Up." Soi Fon agrees.

"He's a very private man." Unohana nods.

Across the table, Isane and Rukia are baffled.

"Captain Komamura? Ten feet tall, bucket head? That Komamura?" Rukia the so-called Ice Princess asks, gesturing to indicate their height disparity. "What the fuck are you talking about? He's SUPER friendly and will hang around to talk FOREVER."

"Yeah, every time I go to the 7th he always asks me to stay for lunch and wants to know how everyone in my family is doing and swap horror stories from the ER for tales of crazy people in the intake queue." Agrees Isane, wielder of the ice cloud Itegumo. "It's embarrassing, but one time I was more than two hours late getting back because we get to talking!"

Everyone stares at everyone else, baffled.

"Did- did I do something to piss him off?" Wonders Nanao.

"Huh. Maybe he just picked up on how much I hate small talk on the job?" Soi Fon shrugs.

Unohana is silent, thinking.

"GUESS WHO BROUGHT TEQUILA!!" Matsumoto Rangiku announces as she kicks in the door, holding four bottles of liquor, only three of which were still full.

"We need you to settle a debate!" Rukia demands at once.

"Ooh! I love passing judgement on things that don't effect me!" Rangiku coos, sitting down, her chest making an odd 'clunk' sound on the table "- there's also salt and limes!"

"It kinda effects you." Soi Fon waved her hand noncommittally. "How would you describe Captain Komamura?"

"Tall, Heavily Armored and Mysterious?" Rangiku shrugs, pulling the box of kosher salt out of her cleavage.

"...more like his personality." Isane clarified.

"Oh! Uhh... You know what? He's one of the few people that's ever complimented me on streamlining like 80% of the paperwork we have to do." Rangiku nodded, fishing the limes out as well. "Always has stuff done waaaay before I expected and I feel like a bit of a jerk for not replying immediately, but never complains if my stuff comes in late."

"Does he hang around and talk, or is he just really businesslike?" Nanao asks, eyes narrowed behind her glasses.

"Hmm..." Fowns Rangiku. "Kinda varies by the day- Sometimes he's all business, other times he'll stay and chat. I always assumed he wants to talk but sometimes he's got work, you know?"

There is much confused muttering as the limes are cut, when Unohana raises a finger.

"...How is he with Lieutenant Hitsugaya?" She asks.

"Oh, he ADORES Toshiro!" Rangiku nods enthusiastically, salting her shot glass. "He actually does the majority of Toshiro's Bankai training now because The Old Man handed it off to him so he could focus on teaching Zaraki Everything But Kendo- which, bless him for doing that, Shiro-kin could literally freeze my tits off!- and he really does a good job listening to Toshiro's concerns and confusions- he's a sensitive boy, you know? And Koma-kun is so gentle with him and to be honest I always eavesdrop on his advice because I could use it too. Delightful man all around." She nodded, and moved to down her drink.

"...Why?" She asked, pausing her drink and glaring suspiciously at Unohana.

Unohana nods with the clarity of enlightenment. "Nothing serious, but everything makes sense now." She smiles, then cracks into a small giggle. "It's rather charming, actually."

"Care to elaborate?" Soi Fon grumbles.

"Yeah that answered NOTHING." Rangiku glares.

"We noticed an interesting disparity in his behavior." Unohana explains, pushing her own glass towards Rangiku to fill. "For me, Captain Fon, and Lieutenant Ise, Komamura-Taicho is very polite, but sticks to the matter at hand and will not volunteer any further conversation. For Lieutenant Koetetsu, Miss Kuchiki and apparently Lieutenant Hitsugaya, he has all the time in the world and is quite the chatterbox."

"...Weird." Rangiku frowns, intrigued by the puzzle. "For me it's like, half and half?"

"Not quite, I think." Unohana smirks. "What do Isane, Rukia and young Toshiro all have in common?"

The Resounding Silence of Thinking Very Hard around the table was a bit of a disappointment, but they were about three bottles into the evening already.

"Can't be Height." Nanao hummed. "Rukia and Shiro-Kun are shorter than a stack of pancakes but Isane's got legs that are too long for the cover of Vouge."

"Isane and Toshiro are both silver-haired, but not me, and he doesn't seem to be particularly close to Ukitake-Taicho and I think I've actually seen him run out of a room to avoid Gin." Rukia puzzled.

"What? RUDE." Rangiku protested.

"They're all under a century old, right?" Rangiku pondered.

"No, I'm almost two hundred!" Isane sighed. "Oh wait- we all graduated early from the Academy!"

"Ehhhh, I graduated because I got adopted, I'm not a genius like you and Shiro-kun." Rukia waved. "Also, how would HE know that?"

"You're all Lieutenants!" Rangiku perked up.

"Not yet I'm not!" Rukia protested.

"Pfsh- you run half the division anyway. Jushiro should promote you to Co-lieutenant with Kaien already!" Rangiku waved.

"Its- it's complicated." Rukia mumbled. "Also, Nanao-chan is a Lieutenant and he doesn't like her!"

"Does it have to do with how freakishly huge he is?" Soi Fon asked.

"...Yes, actually." Unohana decided. Sajin might not have so much trouble thermoregulating if he was the size of a regular wolf. She reasoned privately.

"Also, He likes Nanao-chan just fine as far as I know. I think it's less about how much he enjoys your company- which I think he does, he's not one for putting on facades- and more about how much he enjoys your Proximity." She clarified, taking her shot. "Oh, this is good, what is it?"

"Cabrito Blanco." Rangiku read off. "Huh. The Cabrito on the label sure ain't Blanco." She frowned at the brown goat.

"None of us have transferred out of the Division we started in, but again, how would he know? and that hasn't got anything to do with Proximity..." Isane frowned.

Rukia slammed her glass down. "WOW that's got a kick. Maybe uhhhh... None of us wear perfume, but Gin doesn't either. I hope. I don't want to get close enough to find out."

"He's really not that bad-" Rangiku sulked. "OH, 'Blanco' refers to the tequila and this is that goat's white tequila!" She realized.

"Sometimes I wish I could take a weekend vacation in your brain. Its machinations fascinate me." Soi Fon teased. "Hmmm... Lotta close but no Cigar, you're all young-ish, Isane and Toshiro have living relatives and Rukia has a large adopted family, but again, not exclusive or Proximal. You're also all S-rank duelists with- OH!"

"Shh, I'm enjoying the flailing." Retsu grinned.

"Pfff- okay, that is kinda cute and I don't blame him." Soi Fon giggled. "Sometimes I'm real glad my seat is right next to The Old Man for the same reason. Or opposite reason, I guess."

"Bwah?" Rangiku frowned.

"I do the same thing with You, Momo and The Old Man that He's doing with them." Soi Fon grinned. Rangiku frowned, peculiar machinations grinding slowly through the tequila, before she suddenly cackled, head thrown back so hard Unohana had to reach out and grab her by the scarf to keep her from tipping her chair over.

"OH NOOOOOOOO!!" She wailed, shoulders shaking. "Oh- that's cute but Toshiro can NEVER find out he'll be such a brat about it!"

"Sorry I'm late, I had to finish the latest report on the Rice Farm Subsidy Fraud Investigation!" Momo panted, jogging in late. "-What can't Toshiro find out about?"

"There is SOMETHING that You, ran-chan and Yamamoto-sama share, and it's the same thing but backwards as what Me, Hitsugaya, and Isane have in common that Komamura-taicho really likes it or something, and THEY know but won't TELL US and its MAKING ME CRAZY!" Rukia wailed.

Momo stood, expression blank for a few moments. "Wait. You didn't know?"

"KNOW WHAT?" Rukia wailed.

"That Komamura hangs around with people with Ic-Mmpf!" Momo started to reveal but was abruptly tackled and the rest of the sentence smothered in Rangiku's Cleavage.

"With WHAT?" Nanao demanded. "What do they have that I don't?"

"-Hang on." Isane frowned, the slowly turned to her captain, squinting. "Is. Is this a... Physics Issue?"

"That's one way to phrase it." Unohana smiled as Momo flailed for air.

"Oh my Gooooood..." Isane groaned. "Why doesn't he just ASK? I'd happily go over and give Itegumo some practice, I hate summertime too!"

"Huh?" Rukia glared, as Momo finally fought her way free and gasped for air.

"Itegumo? That's your- ohhhhhhh." Nanao realized. "That's. Okay yeah that's actually really cute." She giggled. "Poor guy. The armor can't help with that, can it?"

"That's what I keep telling him but it's-" Unohana waved her hands and grimaced with frustration. "-He wears the armor because he's facing the *stupidest* form of Political Persecution I've ever heard of." she sighed.

"Really?" Asked Momo. "Captain Tousen said Komamura told him it's because he's got a major disfigurement or something?"

Unohana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Komamura is FINE, he's just- It's complicated and medically private but trust me, the helmet is a reasonable precaution against an absurd problem."

"Oh." Momo winced. "Well, I'm glad he's medically alright at least!" "I'm so fucking confused." Rukia whimpered, deflating over the table in despair. "Is. Is hanging out with me making him less sick or something??"

"...Yes!" Unohana smiled. "Or at least, makes his condition more physically comfortable."

Rukia turned that over a few times. "...Talking with him is helping?"

"Yes, but only if you're in the same room with him. Doesn't work over the phone." Unohana nodded.

"Okay." Rukia said, reaching for the nearest bottle. "Lets talk about something else."

---

Years Later, after the Bedlam of her attempted execution and Subsequent Rescue, Rukia finally saw Komamura's face.

It was a bit awkward, walking into the hospital room in search of her brother to find a nine-and-a-half foot tall wolfman wearing the Seventh Division Captain's Haori visiting Momo. It took her a moment to realize who he was, and another as some neurons connected and she squawked indignantly, pointing at him.

"My apologies, Lieutenant Kuchiki, but-" He sighed, ears flattening back against his head with Chargin.

"AIR CONDITIONING?!?!" She bellowed.

Komamura scrunched back, chagrined. For a massive apex predator, he did an excellent Kicked Puppy face.

"Rukia!" Momo protested faintly from her hospital bed. "Keep your voice down, I don't want Toshiro to find out!"

"Find out what?" Hitsugaya grunted, stepping out from behind Rukia.

"Ah, Well-" Komamura started to explain.

Rukia rounded on Hitsugaya, pointing behind her at the captain. "THIS JACKASS HAS BEEN EXTRA NICE TO YOU, ME AND ISANE BECAUSE WE ALL HAVE ICE-TYPE ZANPAKUTO AND CHILL THE AIR AROUND US!"

"...Summer is very uncomfortable when you have a fur coat you can't take off." Komamura winced.

"Uh, duh?" Hitsugaya rolled his eyes, strolling into the room. "I didn't know you were chilling Koetetsu and Kuchiki here as well, but I kinda figured you enjoyed the cold when you stayed at my Bankai training like, five times longer than Gramps ever did."

"My apologies for the deception." Komamura bowed his head.

"It's no big deal." Hitsugaya shrugged, putting a hand up to indicate he wanted help up onto the hospital bed, and Komamura obliged.

"See? I use you being tall too." he smirked.

Komamura sighed fondly as the boy sat down between him and Momo. "Momo makes me chill all her juice too, but she never seems to warm up my tea." he handed her a juice box from the vending machine down the hall, covered in condensation.

"It would explode." Momo grumbled.

"Skill Issue." He shrugged and she affectionately swatted him on the leg. "Anyway, don't dogs cool off through their paws?"

"I'm from a wolf clan, but yes." Komamura cocked his head with curiosity, then alarm when Toshiro casually grabbed his forearm and started tugging his Gauntlets off.

"I don't mind being a human ice pack, especially not when it's nintey-eight freakin' degrees out, but be efficient about it, yeah?" Toshiro grumbled, tossing the gauntlet aside and plopping Komamura's pawlike hand on top of his head.

"...Thank you." Komamura smiled gently, and ruffled his hair a bit.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Hitsugaya shrugged, playing the tough guy even as his ears turned red. "At least you're polite about it! Freakin' Zaraki literally just grabbed me- like, put his whole arm through the office window! and threw me over his shoulders once. Jerk."

"TOSHIRO!" Momo yelped, hand on her face. "You almost made juice come out of my nose!" She half-giggled while Rukia snort-laughed at the mental image.

"Hey Kuchiki!" Hitsugaya growled. "He's got two paws!"

"You can't boss me around! You don't outrank me anymore!" She grinned.

"I have seniority." he teased, and the bed started to shake as Komamura tried not to laugh.

"You really don't need to-" Komamura tried to diffuse the argument. His voice was rock-steady but the wide grin betrayed him.

"You gotta follow my orders though!" Ukitake said cheerfully, appearing in the door. "Hi Lieutenant Hinamori!"

"C-captain!" Rukia yelped, spinning around to Salute. "What are your orders, Sir?

"Shh, nothing's happening. But I did hear you squawking from two floors down, so what's happening?" Ukitake smiled down at her.

"Captain Komamura has APPARENTLY been hanging around me and the other Shinigami with Ice Zanpakuto and using us as Air Conditioners!" Rukia glared up at her commanding officer.

"...Rukia," Ukitake patted her head and smiled gently. "Do you remember where Lieutenant Kaien's desk was?"

"Second door on the left, right next to your office, Sir!" She nodded.

"Right! And where's your desk?" Ukitake asked, leaning in closer to her.

Rukia blinked, confused. "...It's immediately adjacent to your desk in your offi- GOD DAMMIT! NOT YOU TOO?"

"Yep!" Ukitake cheerfully patted her head and then palmed it to turn her around to face Komamura. "Hop to it!"

"Technically, I got the Idea from him, when I saw how he'd rearranged the furniture..." Komamura whispered as he helped her up onto the bed as well and Rukia groaned in defeat, settling next to Komamura where she could sulk at her captain from over the wolfman's broad shoulders.

"Oh, stop pouting!" Ukitake teased, sitting down on the chair beside Momo's bed and leaning back. "It'll be winter soon enough. Actually, Your friend Mr. Yasutora told me about a fascinating wintertime holiday in the Living World-"

[natewriteslol]

Hiii! I read your works alot because it's one of the active twst writers I see (I'm a dead writer myself LMAO)

Savanaclaw, riddle and Azul with a reader who's cheery and often bouncing with optimism that always has the mind boggling stories to tell. What do you mean that they literally man handed a lion because it won't stop messing around? What do you mean they were in a pit full of scorpions because they accidentally rolled down a hill? What do you mean they literally escaped a real decapitation (hinting towards Riddle LMAO) because he put one spoon full of herbs instead of a teaspoon? Like— they could go on forever! And the thing is, they have evidence of it.

Thank youuu 🫶🫶🫶🫶

A/N: Thank u so much I've been trying to stay on top of writing but it can get so hard!! But I really do try to keep this fandom alive w some goodies, anyways I'll stop yapping heres

Savanaclaw, Azul, and Riddle with a cheery, adventurous Reader!

Leona:

He didn't exactly always question your storytelling before he got to get to know you as he would rather spend time sleeping. But it seemed like literally everyone was captivated by your latest entertaining experience.

As you guys' relationship grew, it got to the point where he couldn't ignore you dropping an insane piece of lore about yourself.

"Yeah, I was accidentally poisoned before-"

"What did you just say-"

"It's okay though, the gnome did apologize and I got my stomach pumped but everything is all good!"

He makes sure to keep an eye out on you, and honestly your stories are the main thing that keep him awake during the day especially because they're real. And although it may seem he's nonchalant when you message him about where you're at, Leona always makes sure to respond as he does care.

Jack:

As your first friend at NRC and protector kinda, he would get paranoid when you would sometimes disappear. However at first Jack believed you were an independent person, and wasn't up to any nefarious activity.

Until you came back with a gorgon head in a brown sack where he was studying in the autobiography section in the library talking about that you accidentally defeated it.

He screamed in terror upon seeing the thing, causing for him to be shushed completely by offended students. But he could not care less due to the sliced head within the sack, however he quickly took you both outside and you being you didn't exactly see the problem in this situation.

Once you where in an open area near NRC's well he began to question you.

"Why-? A-And how? Why are you like this, do you know how much danger you were in?!"

"To answer all your questions in order, 1. I got lost and she had a huge problem with me, 2. I got scared and ran with my eyes closed with the sword and BOOM, just clean off, and yes I know I was in a lot of danger and I'm very sorry for not responding to your calls."

He was way too scared for both you and himself to respond and learned his lesson to keep an eye on you more.

Ruggie:

Ruggie always told you that he was a "see it to believe it" type person and he was never really believing your wild tales you would tell even if you came back with a little souvenir. He always just assumed you were pulling his leg for a bit.

Until he texted you one day over Magicam, since it was a slow day at the Savannaclaw dorm. Only for you to reply with a video, making him click on it not knowing what he should expect.

Queue you to being in an extremely angry dragon's mouth,

"Hey Ruuggieee! I'll get back to you later since I'm in a pickle right now, but I promise I'll call you when I'm done!"

He nearly passed out upon the sight because what in all of the sevens' names doing inside of that deadly beast. The beast man ended up walking to Ignihyde to possibly get Idia to track your location based on your I.P address, only for his phone to ring just as he was about to blab about what happened.

It was you!

He quickly picked up his phone to hear your excited voice blaring on the phone, "I told you I would call you back! Anyways, come over to my house I have something to show you."

You ended up bringing home a dragon's tooth and treasure and while Ruggie was overjoyed, he reprimanded you for being irresponsible.

But he wouldn't mind it too much if you brought back goodies like this just make sure to let him know so he could tag along.

Azul:

You were running late to a meeting about mending a contract between students he scammed. Since you know him quite well and is a good friend of his, the students thought your kind hearted nature could persuade him out of binding them to the Monstro Lounge for an entire semester.

He written in a small font on the contract that if you were over 15 minutes late, you would be unable to host this meeting and the deal would be off completely. The white haired boy glanced at the clock as the time ticked and he would have his own free work force.

Until you had to come 30 seconds from it being called off completely out of breath.

"Sorry Azul! But I got you a little present from the desert," you said dropping down in your seat and digging through this brown sack.

The ancient golden scarab of the Hot Sands.

"Is that-"

"The golden scarab included with the jewel eyes? Yup and I did it all by myself!" You said, extremely proud of yourself.

"Do you understand the value of what you have in your hand? And what were you doing all the way out there by yourself I just talked to you a day ago and that is damn near a 5 day journey?"

"I did this since I did the calculations and about an 1/4 of the wages that the students owe you is in the value of this jewel bug here. So if I split the riches with you, will you let them go?"

You did all of this for some measly students you knew in passing? How could you jeopardize yourself like that?

But he at the same time, respected you greatly and for your trouble and kind heart.

However, he told you to not go anywhere without telling him.

And no of course it's not because he cares about you and was scared once you told him where you went...of course not...

Riddle:

Is the first person who noticed you were gone because he likes to keep tabs on his friends. He didn't know what to expect but the red head just believed you were busy.

So, Riddle decided to shoot you a text as everyone was hanging out in the Heartslabyul dorm and he really wanted to see you.

'Good afternoon, Y/N please feel free to stop by the Heartslabyul dorm. Your company is very appreciated :)'

You quickly texted back, 'Hey Riddle! I'm gonna swing by with a surprise ;D'

He smiled at his phone, unknowing as to what you were going to bring by. Thinking you might bring by muffins or a sweet treat as such.

Not the sword of Excalibur.

You opened the door, bursting in loudly with the enormous sword slung on your back as Grim carried two sacks of gold. Everyone was completely flabbergasted, as the sword had been known to be a mythological thing not yet proven like the fountain of youth.

But there it was on your back as you grinned.

Turned out you picked up your first job at an exploration company and they sent you on a death wish mission to get this damn sword. And in contrary to what everyone believed would be the outcome, you succeeded and retrieved the artifact.

Unfortunately for you, you ended up being scolded for about two hours straight for being completely irresponsible by Riddle with some chime ins from your friends.

He admired your intense tenacity and bravery, but Riddle was super worried about you whenever you take on a quest. He forced you to have a partner whenever you go on missions and call him every time you reached an important point to make sure you were alive and safe.

"So... you really do care about me-"

"By the great seven- YES ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU COULD'VE GOTTEN KILLED IN THAT DAMN ENCHANTED FOREST-"

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A few days pass as the humiliation of your big lesson clings in the air. You think about it too much. Enough that you find yourself cringing to yourself on your bike ride home or even when lying in bed. You’ve never been the most socially adept so the encounter leaves you reeling.

As you help Bre with opening, you feel your heartbeat pick up once more. You need to chase the elephant from the room. You puff out and wet your lips as you glance over at her. She measures out grinds into the silver machine as her eyes pinpoint on the task.

“Um, so, Bre,” you approach her warily with a fresh sleeve of cups, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Mm,” she grumbles groggily. She’s on her second coffee already and she only just got there twenty minutes ago.

“So, um, that guy, from the other day,” you rub your boiling neck, “with the mustache. You said he’s the boss. So he owns this place?”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes as she shuts the lid of the machine and turns the silver dial on the front. She shakes her head as the machine starts to brew and she plants her hand on the counter in front of it. She faces you, her other hand going to her hip.

“Mr. Hansen? Lloyd. Hansen.” She enunciates as if you should know the name.

Your lips downturn and you shrug, “is that his name?”

“Are you new in town?” She asks hotly.

You nod, “yeah, actually. I used to live about forty minutes out of town but there was nothing there--”

“It shows,” she retorts, “he owns this shop, he owns the street outside, he owns me, he owns you. He owns this city. Got it?”

You hum and nod as you look thoughtfully to the ceiling, “not really. But he’s important, got it.”

“Just if he comes back in, come get me and say as little as you can. And please, for the love of god, do not ask him for money,” she snips.

“Oh, alright,” you deflate, “I didn’t know--”

“Now you do. Just trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to fuck around with him. If he tells you to pour boiling water on yourself, you’re better off just doing it,” she sneers.

You wince, “okay, sorry, Bre, I was just asking.”

“You ask too many questions,” she turns and goes into the backroom. She returns, dangling a keyring from her finger, “open up. It’s time.”

You take the key and go to unlock the door and flip on the sign. You retreat back behind the counter, swallowed up by the tension between you. You regret asking. You thought it might help clear the air but now you can barely breathe.

When the first customer enters, you volunteer to help them. Bre just mutters and slurps from her coffee. She might have less of a headache if she takes it easy on the caffeine. You don’t say as much to her, nothing really at all as you work through order after order.

She hops onto prep as you man the till while the queue grows. The morning rush is in full effect as you slide baked goods into little paper sleeves and hand them over before sending customers down to the window to wait for their drinks. The hectic flow helps you forget about the awkward start.

When at last the crowd trickles down and the cafe hums with voices sitting at the tables, you have a moment to catch your breath and center yourself. You like this job, it’s just like your last one, but the company isn’t as pleasant. Bre taps her thumb on her phone screen and ignores you.

The ebbs come with hide tides and soon lunch has you scrambling once more. The smell of toasted bread and cinnamon has your stomach grumbling. You’re too busy to let the emptiness bother you for long. When high noon influx subsides, Bre yawns.

“Lunch,” she announces, “I’m going to head down to Tabitha’s. They’re having a clearance sale.”

“Oh, alright,” you agree, not mentioning that she said earlier you could go first, “I’ll be here.”

She doesn’t respond as she disappears into the back to get her things. You hear her leave through the side door that leads through to the alley. You sigh out and watch the sit-in customers on their laptops or chatting with friends.

You resist the temptation of the tarts staring at you from the display. You can hold out until it’s your turn. The door jingles and a new customer enters. You’re too fixated on the painting of a latte to glance over. Not until you sense the sudden shift in the air. Several people quiet and pack up to go.

Footfalls scuff across the floor and customers leave their unfinished drinks on the table as they hurry for the door. You peer around then at the approaching shadow. It’s him. Oh no. Bre isn’t here.

“Um, hello, Mr. Hensen,” you smile shakily, “how are you?”

He stares at you as he comes to stand across the till from you. His blue eyes darken as he lets a long exhale out through his nose. You gulp and your cheeks tremble. He tilts his head and arches a brow.

“Hansen,” he corrects.

“Right, Floyd Hansen, I remember--”

“Lloyd,” he hits his fist on the counter and you gasp. “Lloyd fucking Hansen.” He leans forward and bares his teeth, “get that through that thick fucking skull.” He reaches for you, grabbing the front of your shirt, “you won’t forget who I am.”

“I’m s-sorry, I’m bad with names--”

“Shut up,” he twists the fabric until it strains against the back of your neck, “if you weren’t so goddamn pathetic, I’d drag you across this counter.”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. He’s only an inch away from you. You shiver as he opens his hand and presses the vee of his index and thumb to your throat. You’re frozen, terrified. Who is this man?

“Get me my fucking coffee,” he squeezes then shoves you so you choke.

You stumble back and bring your hand to your neck. You nod, eyes glittering with unspent tears, and look around. You can’t remember what he ordered. You’ll just have to make something up. Or maybe you could just sneak out like Bre...

[ch0wen]

Cover - Part III | Tangerine x Fem!Reader | 18+

warnings: smut mentioned, (minors dni), cursing, & violence

to catch up - Cover - parts one & two

———-

Tangerine's large hands wrapped around the diner's ceramic mug full of his muddled-grey tea. Warming himself while also trying to still his shakiness. He was having a tough time attempting to conceal his nerves. He avoided eye contact to retroactively stall the dreaded discussion.

“So,” you started, “Tangerine and Lemon. Fruits. Why choose from that category?”

Across from you, the man looked physically and mentally relieved that you hadn't leaped right into the hard questions. A smile wriggled under his mustache,

"When we were younger, Lem and I loved to watch American cinema. We would get inspired by a lot of ‘em. We played the games they did, tried out the sports, and picked up similar traditions.

One day, during a rare, hot English summer, I suggested starting a lemonade stand. My brother reacted with, ‘lemons are too tart! No one even likes sour drinks. I don't want to sell rotten lemons,' and I would remind him that you can turn a sour lemon into a sweet delight with a little bit of sugar. Shit, you should've seen his face when I ended up persuading him and he tried our first attempt at a batch. We got the measurements so wrong!”

His eyes shone as he spoke. He seemed to have been slowly opening up. Laughing into his hand and playing it off as a scratch to his face before dropping it to the table's surface. He was earnest as he told of his boyhood. Intriguing you with his storytelling, and leaning toward him as he continued on.

"Anyway. He would tell me that I'm like the sugar. That I make things better. But frankly, I can be a rotten arsehole to him. And by now, maybe he has forgotten about those silly childhood praises, but I never did. Those were the times, especially at the beginning of our career, when he made me feel wanted. He's good at that. He doesn't even require me to be the sugar in our brotherhood. He's naturally a genuinely good man.

I do need to tell myself I am useful, and deep down, I may not believe that to be all true. But he reminds me. He’s good at making people feel understood and cared for. He is true to his codename. He's a lemon, and everybody loves ‘em.”

Absentmindedly, you played with his finger twitching on the sticky table. He curled his hand properly around yours to hold.

———-

The hours passed and the diner went through waves of people. Coming and going, in and out, like clouds in unsettled coffee. Breakfast rush, stillness, then lunch chaos. To the both of you, the other was the focal point. Everything else just felt like a static buzz.

“I can't help but notice that you haven't asked the question. Basically the entire point of this morning."

"I didn't want to force it out," you finger at the sugar packets, like skimming a mini record collection. Attempting to downplay your interest. “I wanted us to get there without having to press it.”

A grateful hum of, “You are a peach," transitioned into a sigh, "but I suppose you deserve to know that I am a contracted assassin."

———-

It was only half past two in the afternoon when you both emerged from the diner. You made sure to avoid the eyes in the queue of the waiting patrons. The large tip, Tangerine thought he dropped into the checkbook unseen, should at least ease the hostess's agitation about your prolonged stay. You stand facing each other on the bustling city sidewalk.

The silence felt heavy after hours-long conversations. You studied each other. Your chance to fully take him in, in a different perspective, a new light. You were wary of how to leave this after the time you just spent together. The things he depicted. The part of himself that he had fanned out. He seemed to have bore it all. How do you grapple with that while having to part ways?

Tangerine didn’t keep you speculating. His handsome face sported a pleasant smile as he stepped forward to hug you. The embrace lasted only a moment, but it felt that he didn’t want to let go -

Like he was trying to hold you still. Keeping all those secrets that he poured out over the cooling cups of coffee between the two of you. Pressing them in close and sealing them behind tight lips. To him, when you walk out of his sight, you’ll take his story with you. The moment that he lets you go, the truth gets out. Exposed are all the mysteries on the inside and his safety. The scary reality is that he potentially jeopardized his and his brother’s lives to answer your curiosity.

Except, that was just your mind racing again. Tangerine's hug lasted for a minute and in a beat, he was pulling his shoulders back to look down at your face. And then he pulled you in for a kiss, the breath-stealing and tangling your hand in his hair, kind.

———-

The date with Tangerine was like an omen that you wouldn't be able to get the pair of assassins out of your life. Every day, something happened that would remind you of them. One of your little students would ask for a bandaid. You'd hear a song that played in the diner or a familiar theme song that Lemon definitely was humming. You’d find yourself grinning.

Little reminders would pop up here and there. Until one-half of the duo started turning up here and there when you’d least expect or anticipate it. It was a gradually natural formation of a budding friendship with Lemon and an eventual relationship between you and Tangerine.

Your romance with the latter was like any 2000s Rom. Com. daydream, except for the consistent reminders that you were dating a killer ——

Your boyfriend would show up unannounced with fresh flowers and a splat of blood on his neck peeking out from under his collar.

Written-out jokes from Lemon were handed over with a roll of his eyes but the ghost of a smile on his lips. Signaling that he has already heard the ridiculous gag that his brother came up with.

He’d be up early and missing in action during the day, but made up for it by staying late on date nights.

He always found time to call you between the sporadic periods of action while on the job. Just hoping to chat about your day so far or what he wanted to do to you later. Your mind runs with what exact situations he was calling in the middle of, whenever he was out of breath or your conversations were cut short with crashes and shouts.

You could sense when he exerted too much energy after those particularly long workdays. He tended to be quieter, or his body weight pressed impossibly closer on top of yours as his cock pushed in deep, or when Lemon would physically need to drag him into your apartment and throw him onto the couch.

Regardless of his fatigue, once you got each other going - either by massaging his sore neck, his rough thumbs grazing over your exposed thighs, or knee rubbing against his bulge as you bandage up a cut - He basically reverted back into stealth mode. Targeting his focus on only you. It felt like he existed to get you off. Wanting you to come on either his mouth, fingers, or pounding dick. He may have been exhausted but he wouldn't lose stamina until you were finished.

Nine times out of ten, whether after a hotel rendezvous or candle-lit dinner over a pack of instant potatoes and Kraft Mac and cheese, you’d find yourselves snuggled up in bed. You were always left stated after a good fuck from Tangerine. Hands, tongues, and whispers danced in the shared tranquility of your space. You were making special memories with the limited time you found with him.

———-

It went on like this for years. Each day felt like you peeled away another layer of a fruit's skin. Discovering a new trait or trick of your boyfriend's. You anticipated something exciting when he flung open the apartment door or your bedroom window. He never ceased to thrill and fulfill your every need.

And that one Tuesday in Spring was no different. He strode up to your car after class let out, seizing your waist from behind. A spin to your hips in his grasp had him close enough to breathe into your ear,

"Fly out to France with me, yeah?"

———-

[i-guess-im-into-this-now]

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E9 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

Content Warning: discussion of suicide, suicidal thoughts

My character/location cheat sheet:

Sir Kounen - an officer who died drinking

Lady Ah-Duo - one of the top 4 concubines

Fengming - head LIW to Lady Ah Duo

Garnet Palace - Lady Ah Duo's residence

Cryptic opening. The officers are gossiping and drinking. Someone puts something in a drunk man's drink. He's a man who has had a fall from grace, perhaps a former well respected officer or war hero?

Jinshi is sulking. Love this for him. Gaoshun drops this line:

The Jinshi I know would never give in to such childish behavior. The Jinshi I know would never become so attached to a toy.

Which is reinforcing the theme that Jinshi is changing and he's not willing to keep up pretenses.

I don't love that Gaoshun has once again refered to Maomao as Jinshi's toy.

Apparently Lady Gyokuyou took pity on Jinshi and told him the truth, that Maomao hadn't hooked up with Lihaku. So this misunderstanding is cleared up but there was still damage done. Jinshi wants Maomao to trust him, to be able to come to him if she needs something, but instead she made a deal with a virtual stranger.

Gaoshun fills us in a little on how things have been on Jinshi's side. The day Maomao left the palace, Jinshi had rushed through his work because he had been looking forward to seeing her. He arrived at Jade Pavilion only to find she had left with another man. A shock and a disappointment to someone who is used to being able to use his sparkles to seduce any woman.

Jinshi's trying to wear a lot of hats. Here we see him reviewing bills that have been submitted by bureaucrats. Is this something that the Rear Palace manager is expected to handle, or are these responsibilities those of a prince? Gaoshun pities Jinshi for his workload. He has mostly managed it up until now, the exception being the time after the Garden Party when he became exhausted. It seems that Jinshi often has his hands full but can manage it until something unexpected is added to the queue. Even though he is so busy Jinshi makes time to see Maomao, but it's funny because she interprets that as him being bored and not having anything more important to do.

It seems Jinshi's workload will grow tonight however. An important man, Sir Kounen has died. Based on Jinshi's reaction to the news, this man was more than a mere acquaintance. Perhaps someone he served with in the military or someone he grew up around in the palace?

He seeks out Maomao the next morning. There is absolutely nothing to indicate that this is anything other than what it looks like which would be an accidental alcohol poisoning, but Jinshi is struggling to accept what happened and he needs to hear it from Maomao to know if it's true.

To Jinshi something isn't right. Sir Kounen could handle his alcohol, this was too sudden. And yeah, Jinshi definitely knew this man personally. He's upset that the man is dead for more than professional reasons. Jinshi doesn't seem to have a lot of close relationships, and now he's lost someone he knew and cared for. The timing of this is also challenging for Jinshi. At a time when he is trying to build up his close personal relationships, he loses one instead. And he's still reeling from everything that has been going on with Maomao. It must feel alienating.

Maomao notes that something is off with Jinshi.

He's acting meek. Must realize he's asking for the impossible. I prefer dealing with his usually-shiny self. Then again, for awhile now, Master Jinshi has been behaving more like a child.

Jinshi has emotions about this case and he's not interested in hiding them. He shows Maomao his grief and despair, and she's not comfortable with that. After the Garden Party when Maomao was poisoned she saw an incensed Jinshi and she knew she was seeing his real self. She preferred his real self then. Now she sees his pain, and that isn't something she can heal. She doesn't like to see him suffer. She'd prefer to see him sparkle over this pain.

And this is the second time this episode that someone has referred to Jinshi as childish. What is going on? Is it just because he is showing some emotion that he's getting called childish?

He's making himself vulnerable in front of Maomao and she's not great with vulnerability. Not in herself. And not in Jinshi. She has no idea what to do with a vulnerable Jinshi. She would prefer to deal with the sparkly Jinshi, even if that is a mask he wears. She doesn't understand yet that there is no going back to that. And she's too afraid to move forward with Jinshi. They're at an impasse.

Jinshi gives Maomao the booze that was served at the gathering and she proceeds to binge drink. Trying to poison herself maybe? She asks that they look into something for her.

Maomao really is superior. After she has the report she requested she easily solves the case of what happened to Sir Kounen AND offers her conjectures! I'm personally glad to see it after her self recrimination about it last episode. Maomao really does have good intentions, she wants to help identify the culprit (even if she does have some guilt about incriminating someone) and because it's Jinshi, she knows she can tell him and her words will be given careful consideration. Even so Maomao is conflicted with having shared her thoughts. If her conjectures ever do prove false and someone is hurt because of them, Maomao will be devastated.

Maomao sees Jinshi's mourning tassel and realizes why he's been acting strange. She does a kind thing and asks him about Sir Kounen. Seeing Jinshi reflect fondly on his memories, Maomao thinks he looks like a "regular person."

I guess he is human, after all.

The mask is off and the emotions are out and Jinshi is suddenly relatable. Where as before Maomao viewed him as some lofty official so far above such things as love or grief, now, in this moment, he's just a person who has lost someone he cared about.

Jinshi takes note of everything, with everyone, but especially with Maomao. It did not slip his notice that she loves booze. So today he has a gift for her, which she sincerely appreciates.

This whole scene has been too real for too long, and both of them are feeling a little too exposed. There isn't enough trust yet between them to maintain this level of intimacy. So Jinshi breaks the tension by teasing Maomao. She responds by accusing him of slacking, which is a well targeted shot, because the man is drowning in work.

They're teasing each other here, but having a real conversation, as Maomao asks him a question about his work. Jinshi really is quick witted because he shares with her about a bill that would ban young adults from drinking, landing his own well targeted shot. And then we get a sparkle from him. Nothing makes Jinshi happier than bantering with Maomao.

We get just a short glimpse of Jinshi later that night. He's alone, he's drinking, but he's also smiling. For as shitty as his day has been, he's feeling hopeful again after meeting with Maomao. He had let himself be vulnerable in front of her and she offered him a compassionate listening ear, by asking him about his deceased friend. She also asked him about his work because she's interested in learning more about Jinshi. And their banter felt comfortable, like they were returning to a place where they still knew where they stand with each other. He sees that although she has set some boundaries she's still interested and she's reaching out in her own careful way. Jinshi is insightful and I doubt any of that that was lost on him. Hence, his smile.

A woman's body was found in the moat around the palace. The doctor is as inept as ever. He can't bear to look at a dead body. Maomao doesn't feel repulsed at all, but has been ordered not to touch dead bodies since she struggles not to cross ethical lines when it come to her obsession with medicine. Jinshi concurs. Though I have question if that is the whole truth of the matter.

We get a nice interaction between Jinshi and Maomao.

Jinshi: There're somethings even you won't do, then.

Maomao: I figured you'd show up eventually.

Jinshi is teasing, knowing that it's going to be taken well. Maomao is just happy he's there, because his support and encouragement really does make it easier for her to solve these cases.

How on earth is this doctor going to manage to do this autopsy? He's so incompetent and unfit for his job, that I have to wonder if his placement in the palace is intentional. It seems unlikely that someone like that could have earned his placement, instead perhaps he was appointed precisely because of his incompetence. Maybe so that nafarious deeds could be done without notice?

Maomao doesn't touch the body, but she's not giving up on the case. She makes her observations and she seems deeply sad as she thinks about what the dead woman must have experienced. She realizes what happened to this girl and that realization, along with all of it's ramifications are having a powerful effect on her. She's unguarded for a moment and Jinshi notices.

Jinshi reviews the facts of the case with Maomao, but what he really wants are her thoughts on it, and he asks for them. Her conjectures that her father told her never to speak aloud. Maomao's powers of observation, and curiosity are unmatched, which she demonstrates as she logically lays out her theory of what happened to the servant girl.

Maomao's mood is darker than we've ever seen it before. She knows this could have easily been her, after all she is merely a servant girl herself. Up until now Maomao has seen people suffer and die from incompetence like with the poisonous powder, through malice that was meant to tease or harm, but not kill like with the fish that was served at the Garden Party or even the salt in Sir Kounen's alcohol. She has even seen people attempt to murder those who may deserve it, like with the horrible client at the brothel. She managed okay with each of those, but this time the target was a servant girl. Someone who's life means nothing and is easily discarded by people in power if she becomes inconvenient. The girl who died was powerless, like Maomao. And now she is dead.

Maomao considers thoughtfully for a moment both suicide and murder. She confirms that she doesn't want to die and wouldn't kill herself, but her reasoning for wanting to live is thin; she wants to continue testing drugs and poisons on herself. And though she claims she wouldn't kill herself, she has thought of how she would do it, which is a sign of just how dark her thoughts have been.

Jinshi has noticed her mood and asks for her thoughts. Maomao is vulnerable in this moment. Something she usually tries to avoid, but she's so despondent right now, it seems that even her usual anxiety around intimacy is subdued. She's in too dark of a place to even care what Jinshi thinks right now. Or maybe she just thinks he really needs to her this.

She tells Jinshi that she's thinking about what kind of poison she would use to kill herself. And Jinshi is in no way equipped for this conversation. He's so competent on so many levels, and he's not afraid of difficult conversations, but in this, he's lost.

Maomao says of dying:

It's not something that I want. But there are malicious third parties out there, who would wish to cause harm to other people.

It's not me today, but it may be tomorrow.

She continues on, talking about the inevitably of death.

We wander through life, never knowing when it's our time. That's fate. There's no way of resisting it.

They both turn away from each other and take a moment to think over the people who have suffered or died lately, and neither one knows quite what to do or say. They are both privately experiencing their own crisis in this moment.

Why is there so much evil in the world? Why so much suffering? Does any of it mean anything at if death is the end result anyway?

Maomao has been at the side of so much trauma as an apothecary and that trauma is now in conflict with her motivation to heal. If people suffer and die and none of it matters, then what does it mean to be a healer? This is Maomao's dark night of the soul.

Jinshi flounders. Where is this coming from? What changed? He can't read her thoughts here, he's as lost as he's ever been with Maomao and has no idea what to do. And he can't help her, because he doesn't understand. Maomao's on her own.

Maomao: If you're tasked with executing me, could you make sure it is with poison?

Both she and Jinshi may be powerless to prevent her death if someone in power wants her dead, so she asks for the one thing Jinshi could control, the method of her execution.

It's so, so dark. Such a terrible thing to ask of someone who cares about you. She recognizes that and apologizes.

But she's not wrong about the fact that it could happen. If she makes a mistake as she said, or if those malicious third parties that she mentioned earlier were to conspire. And the order to execute would fall to Jinshi.

Jinshi: You realize that's not going to happen?

Jinshi is panicking internally. Why is she saying this?! Stop it!

Maomao: I am but a lowly commoner. My life is easily taken away over the slightest error.

Just like the servant girl who was found dead in the moat.

Jinshi: I would never do that!

Maomao: It's not about would or would not. It's more can or cannot.

Jinshi gasps and Maomao knows she's hit a nerve. Because here we are again with the insurmountable class differences and Jinshi's inescapable responsibilities that stymy their relationship every time they take a step closer. Because of her class, Maomao's life is expendable. Because of his position he has to order executions even if Jinshi doesn't like it.

While the two are talking the sun is setting, signifying the end of a chapter between these two, then Maomao leaves. Jinshi looks more lost than we have ever seen him.

Devastatingly, the case of the drowned serving girl was covered up as a suicide, further proving Maomao's assertion that the girl's life is expendable, and all of her work is meaningless. We get a shot of Maomao contemplating it as she watches time pass by her window. She's experiencing a crisis of faith and will have to find a reason to believe that her efforts matter before she can reclaim what drives her.

And we close on a scene between Jinshi and Gaoshun. If Gaoshun was concerned before that Jinshi was acting childish, he need not worry any longer. He's every bit the lofty inaccessible palace master now. His walls are back up and indeed, he's quite a bit colder with Gaoshun than we've seen before.

It's painful to see, when Jinshi has made so much progress in opening himself up. But his trails have never been about his feelings or making himself vulnerable, instead he has to face the expectations that are placed on him. Maomao always seems to hit him in the most painful spots. This time she said that there may come a day when his station requires him to execute her, and there would be nothing he could do to stop it. The prince is powerless to defy his responsibilities.

So maybe what we see in this scene is despair or at least a retreat. Like Maomao, Jinshi is also questioning what does any of it matter? Why should he bother trying to connect with others if the barriers of his status make it impossible? If he can't protect the people he cares about, maybe he shouldn't care about them at all. Having to execute Maomao would destroy him. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if he didn't care so much.

We see Maomao's and Jinshi's character arcs running parallel here. Each of them facing their own crisis and retreating. But things have changed and there is no going back. They may be able to briefly pull away from their problems but soon they will be facing these same trials again, until they can overcome them.

We do gain a lead in the case from awhile ago that involved caustic chemicals on wooden sticks. It turns out that Fengming, who works for Lady Ah Duo is the suspect.

A super heavy episode, with devastating consequences.

Every time the lovers take a step forward they are pulled away. I'm barely over 1/3 of the way through this show though, so I suppose that's to be expected at this point in the story. There are many trials left for Maomao and Jinshi and they have a long way yet to go.

I like the way the relationships and the plot are building on each other and I have to appreciate the storytellers for adding so much nuance to it. The writing is phenomenal and the animation and voice performances are so good at telling it. Nothing is wasted. Not a single superfluous shot. I'm amazed that the animators are so good at expressing subtle and complex emotions. And the voice actors have been incredible about keying in to exactly what the characters are experiencing and cueing the audience into subtext. It's so well done, I really am loving this series.

If you want to read these from the beginning:

Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 10

[slafkovskys]

OK THOSE PROMPTS SOUND PERFECT FOR RUTGER pls consider it requested by yours truly…i mean the friend that was asking ha

warnings: minor language, suggestive material under the cut

“what’s the password?” you call out after three knocks sound against your bedroom door, tightening the strings of your bikini bottoms against your side. you quirk an eyebrow at the lack of response, a smirk playing at your lips, “no password, no entry.”

“oh, um,” there’s a thump on the other side of the wall and you can only guess that rutger had slumped his weight against your closed door, “i- uh- starburst?”

you cross the room and allow him to slip inside before closing the door again. you throw your arms gently over his shoulders and his hands come to rest on your hips, “now, i don’t remember telling you that little secret…”

“your brother mentioned it awhile back and i may have stored it in endearing things about you,” he mumbles as his fingers pull at the ties of your bikini bottoms, “why do i need to use it? i’m not a stranger.”

“that’s exactly why you need to use it, honey, because about thirty seconds before you knocked, i was topless and don’t really want just anyone seeing my boobs,” immediately his cheeks started to turn red and you cackle, “almost a year and you’re still so easy to make squirm.”

“y/n,” he pouts as you pat his cheek before moving past him to grab a towel off of your bed, “you’re leaving? now? but i just got back.”

“you’re the one who decided to go and work out with my brother, on my birthday might i add, and left me alone all morning. now, i’m going down to the pool, but you’re free to join,” you shrug as you go to the door, but he stops you.

“hey, you weren’t alone. you had your mom and kennedy-”

“would’ve been nicer if it was you though. might have had plans that involved me, you and the shower but i guess that we’ll never know,” you let out an overdramatized sigh as his face falls and you take that as your queue to leave, knowing exactly what you were doing to him.

“look at the birthday girl,” cutter calls, already bobbing in the pool as you walk through the open back door, “sorry i stole your man this morning. had to get a workout in before the celebration tonight. 21 is a big number and we probably won’t feel like it tomorrow.”

“i wasn’t born yesterday, cutter. i know what you did, you know what you did, but it’s fine,” you drop your towel onto your favorite lounger and push your sunglasses off of your head down to cover your eyes, “he still sleeps in my bed at night.”

“you-”

“cannonball!”

a shout interrupted what was surely about to turn into an argument between the two of you and you watch as rutger runs across the backyard and dives into the pool, blissfully unaware of what he had just ended with a gigantic splash.

or maybe he did.

“my bad, y/n,” he calls, a lopsided smirk on his lips as he breaks through the surface of the water. “didn’t mean to get you wet.”

you click your tongue, knowing full well that he had caught onto the little game that you were playing with him. before you could come up with a smart remark, he wraps cutter in a headlock and they start to wrestle in the middle of the pool just like the buddies they were. it was nice to see them like that, not cutter being too protective over you or rutger being too scared to even hold your hand in front of your brother sometimes, just friends. old teammates with history.

you watch them for a little while, before a light bulb goes off in your head and you clear your throat,

“rut, baby,” you call out as you start to loosen the tie on your bikini top, quickly lifting your arm to catch it before it slips too far, “can you do my sunscreen? or at least just get my back? i can’t reach it all the way and i don’t want to be burnt in pictures.”

the pout you send in his direction makes it hard for him to say know and through the dark lenses of your sunglasses, you watch cutter roll his eyes as your boyfriend clears his throat, “yeah, y/n. gimme a sec.”

“i wish that i never would’ve introduced you two,” cutter grunts as rutger slowly makes his way out of the pool, not so subtly adjusting himself as he makes his way over to your lounger, “or allowed you to date, matter of fact.”

“allowed? cutter, i’m older than you. i don’t need your permission for who i date,” you roll your eyes, sending a rutger a smile dipped in faux sweetness as he sits on the end of your chair. “besides, technically you didn’t introduce us. your boy slid in my dms.”

“you did what, mcgroarty?”

“she’s lying, cut. i wouldn’t- jesus christ, y/n,” his voice drops to a whisper that only you could hear as you undo the other string of your top and move it to the side, covering your chest with your arm. you spare him a glance over your shoulder and find him practically shaking at the sight, “it’s like you want to get me killed.”

“me? i would never, baby,” you reach out to pat his thigh, “i just asked you to apply sunscreen and now you’re blushing, you idiot. i’m innocent.”

“innocent my ass,” he scoffs, ignoring cutters warnings of keeping it pg as you hear the tube cap pop. you jump as the cool cream touches your left shoulder, “how am i supposed to survive the next week? genuine question.”

“if this is getting you so stirred up, you’re going to be miserable at dinner tonight.”

requests are closed!

[pynkgothicka]

Ｔｙｐｅｓ ｏｆ Ｙａｎｄｅｒｅｓ ＢＴＳ Ｗｏｕｌｄ Ｂｅ

Synopsis - Pretty simple, a set of hcs describing BTS and their tendencies as Yanderes

Warnings - Acts of violence, branding, mentions of kidnapping, Literal murder.

Authors Note - I'm going to be constantly filling my queue with headcanons just to keep you guys fed with more content, most of it will be fandoms I want to write for yet don't really have the time for a full fledged fic

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Jin - Delusional

He will actively treat you as if you'd been together for years

Somewhere deep in his mind he knows that you two are not actually together but why would he face that reality when he could just change his own

Slowly as time progresses and he has you stuck in his clutches he's going to drive you to the point of believing the fantasy he's been living

When Jin kills he makes up some excuse that's he'd had in his head, like a guy you'd known for a while the entire time was stalking you and waiting for the perfect moment to kill you! He swears!

He'll begin change memories and things you for sure know about yourself

It's all in a futile attempt to change his reality to be yours as well

Namjoon - Overprotective

Joon will go to war over you

If anyone dares to touch you he's instantly onto them, attacking, yet he picks his fights well

Being connected to money knows men in both high and low places, willing to do anything for a buck

Joon will never get his hands dirty messing with shit like that. He's too busy pampering and protecting you to worry. Unless it's a instant thing that he can't wait to maliciously organize. He will take that risk to make you safer

Yet his overprotection is smothering, he'll lock you away and make you believe that your in danger 24/7

The world is dangerous and under his care you'll be safe and loved!

Yoongi - Possessive

He loves making the world aware of how yours his and his only

You belong to Yoongi.

He'll show that possession based on how you act, be good and he'll leave a few hickeys and what not, nothing too big of a deal

Yet act out of line and that turns into more permanent means such as tattoos, which he will gladly pay for

This possessive side of him also comes out when it comes to the people you surround yourself with,Yoongi often picking your “bad” friends off one by one claiming that he knows what's best for you

In the end your utterly alone, Yoongi controlling every aspect of your social life, always seemingly upping the stakes everytime you act out of line

Hoseok - Clingy

He can't live without you

So anytime you get iffy and are about to leave he makes threats to not harm you but harm himself keeping you trapped in this perpetual loop of not leaving him out of pity for him

This man will spend every second with our and if he doesn't he swears he's dying

If you aren't living together, he will blow up your phone 24/7 and even a couple of minutes late he goes into a frenzy and blows up your phone even more, then using that as an excuse to come over

Once he sees that your fine he just kind of stays there not wanting to leave, and he will find the smallest task to do in your house

When it comes to him actually taking out people he sees as bad for you, he does that in complete secrecy. He didn't want to scare you away

The one thing about him is that he rarely gets mad because by him getting mad he can scare you away and why would he ever want that

Jimin - Manipulative

Jimin can lie like a mf.

He's probably done it straight from the start, using his persuasion to make himself more appealing to him

The worst part is that Jimin remembers his lies, so he keeps up with what's he's told you and what he hasn't

A prime example is that he's told you that Wednesday nights he gets busy with hanging out with his friends, a form of designated him time. That was a cover up only used once while he killed a perv that came on to you constantly at work, but Jimin kept this up always leaving Wednesday nights, having that be some sort of allotted time for him to get his anger out and fuck up anyone who fucks with you

He's also always painted others a villian when you find out about some of the things he'd been doing, like telling your friends off and demanding for them to leave you alone

Hed claim that they'd hurt him or were planning to hurt him, and how could you say he was wrong, he was the most honest man you met your entire life

If you only knew how often he'd been lying just to keep you around

Taehyung - Obsessive

He has a shrine. That's right a shrine.

That's how obsessed Taehyung is.

His shrine is filled with little things he's kept as a form of remembrance to you. Like a strand of your hair or a pair of your panties he'd kept after snooping around in your room

And he will not let up his obsessive stalking and spying when you eventually decide to get with him and be official

When it comes to murder he has no qualms with doing it, plus he can just keep on hiding and hiding it

He just hides it better, and most his behavior is seen as romantic to you since well, you are a couple

He just doesn't know how to act in a relationship… right?

Jungkook - Self Indulgent

Literally everything he does with you or too you is for his own gain

Being with you, all apart of his own gain. Not only are you attractive but you will stay with him no matter what he does out of fear! That's perfect for him

He's a creepy dude, and won't shame you for thinking that, he's powerful too. His status just speaks for itself

Even when he kills for you, he makes sure that he gets some gain from it too, without that gain for the both of your or the couple as a whole, why would he even worry about it

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

You know what would be funny? While the RDA is obsessing over Pandora's resources and providing the rich assholes with ways to extend their wrinkled existence, the rest of humanity goes “Fuck this shit! Time to fix up our planet!” Like full on terraform Earth back to its former glory.

And so, while the RDA is spending billions to send ships to terrorizing the tall, blue people, the rest of the world is having its redemption arc up until like a year after the second movie, where they’re at the point where they can go “Yoooo, wtf is the RDA doing over there? Oh, they got bored with fucking us over so they moved to alien natives? Nah, send in the Balkan people (These mfs are built different I swear, they’ll just take a breath of pandoran air and go “Umm, spicy and refreshing”). They’re sent on their way (Let’s say they arrive in 1 year flat because screw physics, this is a joke post, mf are going 4 times ftl.), beat the ever living shit out of the Ahaa cartoon villains that are the RDA personnel and teach them some, you know, human decency, queue in the best apology video of all time, leave the blue people alone, boom mission accomplished. RDA gets sued to hell and back (You know, war crimes and all of that) and even more funding goes to fixing up Earth until its basically as we know it today.

Later down the line, the na’vi need help because of some disaster, humanity sends said help, some form of actual peace is formed, Spider becomes the ambassador of human/na’vi relationships (Guy had the glow up of the century, which tends to happen when you live in a time of peace again and people actually love and care for you “ahem, Spider Sully”) Human and Na’vi truly learn about each other (Ones aren’t uncivilized savages, but people with a unique cultures and deep history. Others aren’t advanced savages with boom sticks, but, you guessed it, people with a unique cultures and deep history.) and learn from each other.

And everyone lived happily ever after.

The end

(Very unrealistic, I know)  

Ugh, my dream. The terraforming Earth part, not the humans coming back. Because the whole movie is a colonization metaphor, I'm so tentative and iffy on the Na'vi needing or wanting any help or support from humanity.

But regardless, I am obsessed with the idea of humanity healing Earth. I know that we are cynical people and are always like "This is realistic, humans are selfish and would take advantage of Pandora as we did to Earth." And I totally get that, but I also love those humans are inherently good stories. I do think the majority of people care and have empathy about other people and their situations, and the majority of problems in the world are systematic and stem from ignorance. People are uneducated or are struggling with what they have to deal with on their own, and don't have the wherewithal to care about every single other thing that is such a gigantic systematic issue. I would love for people, for everyone, to just be like yeah this isn't okay anymore lets fix it. About anything and then everything. But I digress.

I love the idea of Spider Sully and Jake being a bridge between the Na'vi and humanity. I think Jake would have to be involved as well, because honestly Spider has never been to Earth and has never been with regular humans. My man knows no human culture or traditions, really. He's like, really Na'vi biased in that way, hilariously.

Spider: Na'vi culture is better and more important, obviously.

Someone: well, what is human culture.

Spider: clearly it's test tubes, guns, air lock doors, green paper, Jesus Christ, and also tank tops.

[lovebaela]

Ice & Fire ༄ Pt. 11 (Bran Stark x Targaryen oc fanfic)

⋇ Chapter 11: The Wedding ⋇

Warnings: Smut (again I tried LOL)

Tsireya’s POV

A few days before the wedding, the houses of the North came to Winterfell to talk about the marriage. They were at first skeptical about me, until the Starks defended me. “She has been raised along side us before the war,” Sansa said, “we have full trust in her.” After getting that out of the way, I had to figure out which dress I wanted. Sansa and Arya, of course, helped me pick one.

We all met up in the godswood again, requested by Bran. He was really ticked off, he saw in the past all that Little Finger did. He told us and we were shocked. “So…he was the one who sent that assassin?” I asked. He nodded, “yes..” “I knew he couldn’t be completely trusted but wow, he started everything!” Sansa said, growing angry. We held a trial for Little Finger, of course he denied all the accusations, but Bran brought up everything he did from the past. He begged for his life, especially to Sansa, but that wasn’t going to work. Arya passed Bran a sword. He whispered to himself, “the man who passes the sentence swings the sword…” he sentenced Little Finger to death and sliced his head off. At least we don’t have to worry about him anymore.

The day before the wedding is Bran’s coronation. He had to proceed into the Great Hall on horseback like he did before. But instead of doing it as a Prince, he did it as a King. It felt like just yesterday when we had the harvest.

Before he trotted in, the Lords of each Northern house drew out their swords and rose them up. As he passed each Lord, they lowered their swords. Once he sat down at the high table, the maester placed the crown on his head. Everyone chanted, “King of the North!” Just like that, the day was already over. Everyone went to bed extra early for tomorrow.

My maids helped me get dressed in my wedding gown. Sansa and Arya were also in my room too. I decided to put my hair up instead of letting it flow.

“You look so beautiful,” Sansa said.

“Like a queen,” Arya smiled.

“Thank you guys,” I said. I gave them both a big hug, “well, I guess it’s time.” Sansa and Arya nodded and left the room so they could go to their spot outside in the godswood. I thanked the maids and dismissed them too.

When it was finally my queue to go, I took a deep breath and left my room. The sun was starting to go down, such a beautiful scenery. I walked in front of the trail that had lanterns on both sides leading all the way down to the tree. Everyone stopped talking and turned to see me. They all gasped in awe. Bran’s eyes widened as he saw me, making me grin a little. He looked so handsome, dressed in black, kingly attire. I started walking down the aisle, hearing people whispering compliments.

We are both 18 now, man and woman. If only everyone else could see us, how far we have come.

I started to imagine what the wedding also could’ve been like. I pictured Jon, Robb, Rickon, Lord Eddard, and the girls by Bran’s side. For my side, I pictured my mother and the rest of my family. What hit me hard the most was thinking about my father. He could have been the one to walk me down, giving me to Bran. I also thought of Hodor, Jojen, and Summer. I looked up and saw our dragons circling the ceremony, watching from above. I finally made it to Bran and the maester in front of the tree.

“We are gathered here today to witness the union of man and woman. Brandon of House Stark, King of the North, son of Eddard Stark and Lady Tsireya of House Targaryen, daughter of Daeron Targaryen.” the maester announced, “now, King Brandon Stark, do you take this woman?”

Bran looked deeply into my eyes, “yes, I take this woman.”

“And you, Lady Tsireya Targaryen, do you take this man?”

I never broke eye contact with Bran, “yes, I take this man..”

We both move closer to each other and hold each other’s hand. Then we face the tree and kneel before it, in prayer and meditation. We both stood back up. “Now you may take your bride under your protection,” the maester told Bran. He removed the cloak from his shoulders and placed it on mine. Then the Maester approached me with a crown, placing it on my head, “Tsireya Targaryen Stark, our Queen of the North!”

Sansa signaled a maid to grab a dragon glass blade. The maid gave it to the maester. The maester first gave it to Bran, he puts it against his bottom lip and slides it down, making it bleed.

He then cuts his hand before giving it to me to do the same. After I cut my lip and hand, he first rubs a mark on my forehead and then I do the same to him. This signifies the continuation of our bloodline. We both take each other’s bloody hand as the maester wrapped the wedding cloth around them.

Bran and I both pledge in Valyrian, “One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” We repeated the vows in common tongue for everyone else to understand.

The maester announced us as husband and wife, “you may kiss the bride.”

Our lips crashed together as the crowd cheered for us and clapped. Bran then lifts me up and carries me the rest of the way to the Great Hall, for the feast.

“To our new Queen of the North!” Bran shouts, lifting his goblet. The Lords begin to shout, “Queen of the North!” I giggled in embarrassment as I drunk out of my cup. We were presented with so much food! We wanted to try every dish, but we were full by the time we reached the third.

“How does it feel to be queen now?” Arya asked me.

“It feels nice,” I smiled.

“I have a wedding gift for you,” Bran said. He signaled the servants to bring it out. It was a Targaryen themed saddle! “I remembered when we talked about saddles for the dragons so…I had two get made for us! This one is yours!”

“Thank you, Bran!” I kissed him on the cheek.

The musicians played a certain song that sounded familiar. It was the song that played when Bran and I danced at the harvest. Bran smirked at me and offered his hand, “Kostagon eman bisa lilagon, ñuha dāria? (May I have this dance, my queen)”

“Kessa,” I accepted, placing my hand in his. We both went to the dance floor and did the same moves we did before as kids. This time, it felt so much more magical than before.

(Imagine them dancing like this)

Everyone watched as we danced in silence until we were finished. They applauded us and then everyone joined us on the dance floor. We did it the same way before, copying our dance moves and switching partners after we finish.

We were all having a blast! The feast started to get more hectic. The music was barely heard, the men were drunk and touching their women, and it was getting hotter. It was about time for bed.

“Now it is time for the bedding!” Bran announced, “but I will gladly carry my own wife to our bedchambers!” He picked me up as I giggled, blushing.

“Don’t be too loud now!” Arya shouted, making the hall laugh.

“Shut up!” We both yelled as we left.

For the bedding, we were given a special room. It sort of reminded me of Bran’s room, just filled with rose petals and nicely scented candles.

As soon as Bran shut the door closed with his foot, we immediately started to kiss each other, moving our mouths in sync. His lips were perfectly plump and so smooth, I could kiss them all night.

We were both waiting for this moment, just the two of us, alone with no interruptions. Bran gently placed me down, and we both started to remove our clothes. He finished a lot faster than me, leaving on his breeches. I insisted that I could do it on my own, so he went to his side of the bed and waited.

I placed the cloak and my white fur coat onto a chair. I started to remove my dress, Bran watched me in admiration as I gracefully removed it, revealing my corset, short braies, and high socks I had under my dress. Before I could hop into the bed, I seductively took down my bun and unbraided my hair, shaking my hair back and forth letting it fall on my back again.

I crawled to him from the foot of the bed. We were both blushing extremely hard. I took a moment to stare at his body. He was slim, but also had a slightly toned build. He was beautiful.

We both have been waiting for this moment, but it still felt a little silly and strange. We both laughed and giggled as I had my body over his.

Bran sat up and placed his hands on my hips as I straddled him. I wrapped both of my arms around his neck. We looked into each other’s eyes and then started to kiss again. The longer we kissed, the more hungrier we grew. This time, Bran opened his mouth more for my tongue to enter. He moaned as I explored his mouth with my tongue, whispering my name. He tried to find the strings of the back of my corset, but it was hard for him to see. He was too overflown with pleasure, keeping his eyes closed.

He managed to untie it and gently takes it off of me, tossing it across the room. He innocently couldn’t stop staring at my chest. I stop kissing him and giggle. I start to feel something strange under me. I glanced down at his breeches, noticing a bulge. I blushed really hard, chuckling, “oh, I guess you like what you see…” He turned completely red, “hey, stop picking on me!” He whined, with a slight grin on his face. I showered his whole face with kisses, making him giggle, “as my King commands.”

I took his two hands and placed them on my breasts for him to feel them. He looked from his hands to my eyes, his were filled with such curiosity and admiration. We started to kiss again, as he massaged my chest. Our tongues were dancing with each other as we kissed. I started to slowly grind on him, making him moan louder. We stopped kissing, out of breath, and I looked down at his breeches. “Do it,” Bran commanded desperately. “Yes, my king,” I tease, giving his nose a kiss.

I start to undo his breeches as he silently watched me. I threw them across the room like he did with my corset. I bit my lip as I looked upon him, blushing. His whole body is beautiful. “I guess you like what you see too?” He asked, laughing. “Yes, I do..” I proudly admit to him. “Alright, my turn!” Bran playfully yelled, switching our positions suddenly. “Oh!” I exclaim snickering, surprised that he did that. Bran started to carefully remove my white high socks and threw them at the side of the bed. He started to eye my braies asking, “may I?” I nod, letting him do the honors. He pulled down my braies and threw it at the side of the bed too. Bran scanned my face and body, “wow.” “What?” I asked. “You’re beautiful, Tsireya. Please don’t ever forget that. Inside and outside,” he said. I blushed replying, “thank you Bran, so are you…”

He kissed me slowly and passionately as I closed my eyes. I bit down on his bottom lip, making him groan in excitement. He positioned himself at a better angle on top of me and he looked at me, asking for permission, he didn’t even need to ask, I gave him a little nod as I panted. He tried to enter inside me, but it wasn’t going in. This was our first time after all. “S-Sorry…” he told me, embarrassed. I place my hand on his cheek giggling, “it’s okay!” After he kept thrusting a little more, I moaned loudly as I felt Bran unexpectedly entered in. Honestly, I didn’t care if people could hear us anymore. I started to whimper as he moved up and down on me slowly. “D-Does it hurt?” He asked me, worried. “No, no, it doesn’t hurt it just feels different,” I said, “but I like it…keep going.”

Without saying a word, he nodded and continued on. He kissed me again, traveling from my mouth to my neck, making me gasp. He started to gain more speed, thrusting harder and harder. I wrapped my legs around his waist, screaming his name in pleasure, “Bran!” I was a little embarrassed that I screamed but I was too in the moment to care.

As we released ourselves, both of us moaned extremely loudly. Bran then sighed and dropped right next to me, “well, we just did that.” We were both out of breath. “Yeah,” I chuckled, “Arya is going to tease us a whole lot tomorrow…” we both laughed. I turn to Bran, laying my head on his chest. “I can’t believe it,” Bran said, playing with my hair. “Us, King and Queen of the North, I never would have thought I would become king. Now, I must be like Robb. I have to be brave, we both do. We must protect our people from the Night King and the dead. No matter what happens, we go through it together.” “Yeah, together.” I agreed, “when will Jon and Daenerys be here?” “They’ll be on their way soon, when they do come, we must tell Jon. Tell him about who he truly is.”

We both just laid in the bed in silence, not sleepy. “So, what now?” I ask him. “Hmm,” Bran thought out loud, “you wanna do it again?” I giggled, “I’m up for it if you are…” I threw my leg over both of his. “I am all yours, my king.” I whispered, running my finger down his chest. I slightly winced as I felt him inside me again but quickly pushed the feeling aside. He gripped my hips hard as I began to ride him, “gods, I love you so much,” he moaned submissively.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

When it was breakfast, we were already expecting Arya to say something. “How did you sleep?” Sansa asked Arya. “Well it could have been better,” she replied. She looked at us and then smirked, “I mean, practically the whole castle could hear those love birds. How is one supposed to sleep when all you hear is screaming?” We rolled our eyes at her, but we still turned red.

I won’t lie, after our bedding, we made love many days after. We just loved each other so much. Arya continued to playfully complain about our sounds of pleasure. “What can I say, I love to ride,” I said jokingly yet serious.

One night before we could remove our clothes, we heard a knock on the door. “Come in!” Bran said. A man entered the room, but he looked familiar. It was the man who helped us get beyond the wall! “Samwell Tarly,” Bran stated. “I thought you would have forgotten me,” Sam said, surprised Bran even remembered. “I remember everything now,” Bran replied.

Sam noticed me in the room, “o-oh, am I interrupting something?” “No,” I reassured him, “please come sit.”

He nodded, smiling, and closed the door behind him. “Thank you,” Bran said, “for getting us beyond the wall, you’re a good man.” “Gee, thank you, your grace, though I’m not really sure that I am,” he replied, “what happened to you, outside the wall?”

“I trained to become the three-eyed raven.” He told Sam.

“Oh! I…don’t know what that means…”

“It means I can see the past and sometimes glimpses of the future. I can see what happens now, well when I choose to.”

“What brings you to Winterfell?” I asked Sam.

“Is Jon here?” Sam asked. “I came to see him.”

“No, but he is on his way back with Daenerys Targaryen from Dragonstone.” Bran answered.

“Did you see that in a vision?” Sam asked.

Bran showed Sam a little letter that was sent by a raven.

Sam, feeling dumb, chuckled, “oh.”

“When he comes, we must tell him the truth,” Bran said.

“About what?”

“About himself…no one knows, no one but me and Tsireya.”

“He isn’t the son of Eddard Stark,” I told Sam, “he’s the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark.”

“They held a secret ceremony to get married, in Dorne.” Bran said.

“Oh gods,” Sam exclaimed, “then that would mean he’s…”

“The rightful king of the 7 kingdoms…” Bran said, finishing Sam’s sentence.

A week later…

I’ve been starting to feel strange lately. I’ve been getting more cramps than usual, and my stomach has been making me feel queasy and nauseous. What’s going on? I didn’t let Bran know about anything, I just went to my maid about it.

“What does it mean?” I asked her. She began to cup my breasts, examining them. “What’s wrong?” I asked her. She looked up at me and replied, “your breasts, they are more swollen than usual. Does it hurt when I do this?” “It does feel a bit sore..” I answered. “When was the last time you bled, my queen?” She asked. My eyes widened, I’m pretty sure I was supposed to start bleeding by now. She took my hand and placed it on my flat belly, “my queen, you are with child, the gods have blessed you!”

I continued to sit there, thinking to myself, me, pregnant? When the Long Night is coming? I can’t believe it…he’ll never let me fight if I told him now. “Shall we inform the King?” She asked me. “No, it’s fine, I can tell him when the time feels right.”

┈┈┈┈﹤୨♡୧﹥ ┈┈┈┈

(a/n) Hey guys, sorry I’ve been slacking in posts but I started writing some chapters so they should be out soon! I hope you are enjoying the story! :)

Taglist: @icarusignite @rinisfruity14

[andypantsx3]

Andie. 🥺 Florist Shouto giving you a big bouquet of peonies. 🥺 Fat, full ones that are ruffled like petticoats. 🥺 Wrapped in brown paper with a trailing ribbon. 🥺 And they’ve been sitting there in the glass fridge, waiting for you to come past the shop on your way home from work. 🥺🥺

omg stop my ovaries are about to explode

rip those flowers as they get squished between us when i lay it on him

The shop bell jingles gently as you shoulder open the door, ducking out of the rain and into the tiny florist's shop.

Immediately the thick scent of greenery washes over you, delicate florals and the tangy smell of earth. The bright bouquets stand out even more than usual against the dreary grey of the sky outside, the shelves straining under the weight of tightly-packed buckets bursting with color.

You quickly smooth down your hair, trying not to look like a wet rat before the shop's owner catches sight of you, frantically dredging your brain for some event that might occasion flowers this time. Over the past few months, you've developed a bad habit of wandering into this particular shop on your way home from work--inventing a million and one things you need flowers for. Your friends are quickly growing sick of bouquets for everything--birthdays, anniversaries, congrats on quitting your job, dinner party gifts, the lot.

But you can't help it.

Because even more beautiful than the arrangements that grace these shelves, even more lovely than the atmosphere of the shop itself, is the shop owner, the man who keeps drawing you back, again and again.

Todoroki Shouto.

As if on queue, the man in question emerges from the back room, lugging a large earthenware pot filled with perennials--probably the next display piece to be positioned just outside the front door. Under his blue button up, you can see a bicep cording with the effort, and his handsome face is scrunched in concentration, long eyelashes dusting the top of ridiculously high cheekbones.

He's so horribly beautiful, tall and packed with lithe stretches of muscle, and he has a face like an elven prince from a fantasy novel. The yelp reviews of this shop are filled with just as many covert shots of him as they are of the flower arrangements, jammed with fawning comments like "the most beautiful bloom of all," and "this dude is even more gorgeous than his arrangements and that is saying a lot."

You can't say you disagree.

Your heartbeat kicks up a bajillion notches, like it always does at the sight of him, and you suppress the urge to flatten your hair again. Todoroki looks up, then, pinning you with his mismatched gaze--his right eye an icy, wintery grey like the sky outside, his left an unearthly blue, like the center of a flame where it burns the hottest.

"Hi, Todoroki," you say quickly, before your brain loses capacity for human speech, the way it usually does in his presence.

With a flex of his arm that you will absolutely be reliving in the dark of your own bedroom later, he heaves the pot onto the counter, quickly dusting his hands off on the white apron he's tied around his waist. You try very hard not to notice that the way it's tied emphasizes the ratio of his broad shoulders to his trim waist, and fail spectacularly.

"Y/N," he intones in his deep voice, low and smooth. "You're back."

You wince.

You are most certainly back, unable to avoid the siren call of the fifteen minutes you spend together on almost a weekly basis, your eyes desperate to drink your fill of him.

You'll never take this anywhere, would never dream of being inappropriate or making your move on him. He's so obviously uninterested, with a face and a body and a voice like that. But you can't help but want to spend these few, small minutes with him anyway. He's so beautiful--and beyond that, there is something about the way he speaks, the way he moves, the careful way he does everything that soothes some strange itch in you--that blurs the daily stresses of your life into the background.

You always leave feeling calm, somehow. Content. Like you can handle the rest of the week if you just hold the memory of him like a protective charm against the rest of the world.

He's fucking magic.

"Uh, yeah," you say stupidly. "Here I am!"

Those eyes flicker over you evaluatively, and a heart-rending hint of a smile pulls at his full mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You realize you've failed to come up with an excuse, too focused on the movement of his biceps as he carried that pot.

"Uh, just, uh, something for me this time," you say. "It's supposed to be rainy all weekend and I'm thinking some flowers would keep my apartment bright and friendly." You give yourself a little mental pat on the back for pulling that idea out of your own butt.

Todoroki makes a low humming noise that goes right down your spine. "Did you have a long week?" he asks.

"Ugh, the worst," you say before you remember that no man likes a complainer. But Todoroki doesn't look like he minds, watching you curiously like he wants an explanation.

You wave a hand. "Just, office politics stuff. I had a big report due and spent like an hour trying to stop marketing from trying to spin the numbers their way. It got, uh, heated." You scrub a hand over your cheeks. "But anyway it's the weekend now and that's over. I'm going to curl up with a good book and a glass of wine and pretend for the next forty-eight hours like I've never even heard of marketing."

Another curve of a smile pulls at Todoroki's mouth.

"Any plans for you this weekend?" you ask, eager to hear about him.

He nods, his red and white bangs dipping in front of his eyes for a moment. "I'm going to visit my mother," he says. "It's her birthday soon, her first one since leaving the hospital."

Over the course of the last few months, you'd worked the story out of Todoroki, about how she'd been hospitalized when he was young, of the growing and changing and forgiving his family has had to do since. He always talks about it in such a conscientious way, and it's a major part of the reason you like him so much. If only you too, could be so patient and thoughtful and good.

"Oh my god," you say. "Please tell her happy birthday from me! Can I--I want to get her a little bouquet from me, then, if you--uh--if you don't mind. Um. Arranging it?"

Todoroki's eyes fix on you unblinkingly, and for a minute you think you might have overstepped, until his eyes crease and his mouth softens in a way that you know means he's pleased--the same way he looks when he finishes an arrangement and you can't help but pile him in heaping praise.

"I'd like that," he says.

You grin.

Used to the routine, you dump your bag off by the register and follow him to the buckets of unarranged flowers he keeps along the storefront, watching his broad back as he leads you, trying not to stare at the slim fit of his pants as he does.

"What are the feelings you want to convey?" Todoroki asks, like he always does when you start.

"I want something happy. Joy, um, good wishes. I want these flowers to symbolize my most excellent vibes," you say, cringing when it comes out as stupid as it does.

Todoroki huffs a tiny little laugh, though, and a hot little thrill of pleasure sweeps from your head to your toes.

"Your most excellent vibes," he repeats in his low tone, sounding dangerously close to amused.

He reaches out, and under his hands, a small, beautiful bouquet comes together--creamy yellow lilies and tiny coral roses and a spray of white buds and bright leafy sprigs of greenery. Lilies symbolize happiness he tells you, orange roses energy and joy, and the white buds are for rebirth, new beginnings.

It's lovely, almost as lovely as he is.

You're pleased, and happily hand over your card to him, taking a blank note card from the register till and penning out a short note of best wishes to Rei, who you have heard so much about.

You chat a little bit more, and insist on Todoroki letting you pick out the wrapping for when he brings the flowers to her, picking out the brown paper you've always liked and a little orange ribbon to match the vibrant roses.

"You have to make it extra fancy when you wrap it," you order him, pointing your pen at him like a weapon. "No taking shortcuts because she's your mom and she'll love anything you put together regardless. I want pictures when I'm back here next week."

His eyebrows raise, and a real smile pulls at his mouth, then, a glowing half-moon grin, so utterly devastating in its beauty. Your heart almost falls out of your butt and you have to grab the counter just to keep your knees from getting too wobbly.

"The vibes will be excellent," he teases, the words sounding so strange and foreign in the crispness of his almost princely tones.

You watch him place them in water and attach your card, carrying them over to the fridge which is already overstuffed with a million different bouquets, each more beautiful than the last.

You shoulder on your bag again, eyes drinking in one last fill of Todoroki Shouto and his shop to keep you sated over the coming week, when Todoroki glances back over one broad shoulder.

"Wait," he says. Your feet freeze on the tile obediently.

You watch curiously as he tucks his mother's bouquet into the fridge, and then even more curiously as he pulls an absolutely gorgeous bouquet of flushed pink peonies from the top shelf. Some are light pink, little shy blushes of color, and others are deep rose, full and pouty and absolutely perfect. Little green leaves peek through in colorful bursts, breaking up the color palette just so.

It's so classical and beautiful, and your eyebrows climb into your hairline when Todoroki pulls them from their vase, wrapping them in that brown paper you like and tying them off in a trailing emerald ribbon with a deft twist of his deliciously long fingers.

"Do you need me to make a delivery?" you wonder aloud. "Because I accept cash, credit, or praise and eternal gratitude."

But Todoroki just smiles again, stepping up to you, so close that your back bumps the counter--close enough that you feel the whisper of his apron across your coat. This near, his face is even more lovely, and you can see the flushed pink skin of his scar so clearly, smell the earthy fingerprint of flowers on him.

He presses the peonies into your hands, leaning down to look into your face.

"They're for you," he says, his voice suddenly lower than you've ever heard it. "The pink ones have a special meaning."

He can't mean anything by it, but your heart is working overtime, every inch of your skin breaking out into a furious flush with his proximity and the low, conspiratorial register of his voice.

"I--they do?" you manage to squeak out.

Todoroki nods, a slow incline of his head, and moves forward just a little bit more, pressing into you where you stand immobilized against the register.

Just then, the bell overhead jangles, and Todoroki closes his eyes, a still cast overcoming his features, almost like he's disappointed. He steps away, but not before trailing one long, pretty finger over the petals of one peony.

"I trust you'll figure it out," he says, and moves to help the customer, an elderly woman with a helmet of shiny silver hair.

When you let yourself out back into the rain, it's shockingly cold against your overheated skin, but you almost can't feel it, a strange haze settling over you. The train ride home is a blur, a churning, choppy sea of replayed memories from your encounter with Todoroki.

It's only when you let yourself into your apartment that you realize there's a tiny notecard buried among the flowers, and you watch as it flutters to your floor. Todoroki's untidy scrawl is all over as you pick it up with curious fingers, and you accidentally drop the peonies flat on the floor when you read it.

Y/N--

Have dinner with me

-- S

And it's followed by a phone number, carefully written so that all of the numbers stand out clearly, as clear as Todoroki's intentions suddenly are to you.

It's even more clear when you remember to google the meaning of the peonies and get caught on the words love at first sight, your face going hotter than the surface of the sun.

Your phone is in your fingers before you register you've even moved, and your message is shot off with shy but certain finality.

I'd love to.

[hollyhomburg]

Brain going brrrr about mafia lord namjoon again for my 3003939837th time of being an army, 

only this namjoon uses his many galaries for money laundering but secretly just loves art for arts sake 🥺 he’s really just a sweetheart who wants nothing to do with the mafia life, he buys art that he thinks is greatly undervalued for twice the price and secretly sponsors his favorite artists. his parents think he’s hopeless, he sneezed over a bag of co*kane the last time that he went to check the families product. and he litterally almost shoots off his own foot any time he has a gun in his hands, he doesn’t drive as much for his own safety as the rest of the family he’s...not cut out for the mafia life to put it bluntly. 

he’s not a monster (until you make him one) 

his parents are getting onto him to get married, his father has long since stepped down as the head of the family, preferring to split his year vacationing in monaco and macau. But once or twice a year- namjoon’s parents do meet up with him just to make sure that namjoon’s not running the family drug empire into the ground. 

it’s usually a painful meeting full of “why are you still living in an apartment and not a house” “you spend too much time on frivolous pursuits, you should take up something” “what, like murder?” “*insert weighty silence here*,  but the thing they get on him the most about- is marriage. 

namjoon’s never had much luck in the relationship department. hes had a few girlfriends and boyfriends through the years- then a few sugar babies here and there when he got tired of people pretending to only be into him for his money and would rather have that out-front. his parents Gesture to a waitress (our m/c) and say “you can choose any woman namjoon, even that one would do” as if on queue- the m/c spills a drink over a main table, but can’t get more than a simple apology out before the man starts shouting obscenities about does she know who he is and he’ll have her job for this. 

namjoon doesn’t like mean people. it’s a pity that he has to deal with them often in his line of work. 

So namjoon gets up, walks over to her and litterally punches the man out. ngl- i just love the idea of the waitstaff being all like “😅 we know who you are and we won’t call the cops” meanwhile namjoon’s never thrown a punch in his life, shakes his hand and almost cries. “if you wanted to impress me there are easier ways” are the first words she says to him. hands on her hips. and all of a sudden he feels like a schoolboy under a microscope. 

“how much money would I need to give you to walk away with me right now” and she takes one look at his Rolex and decides based off of that that yeah- going home with this businessman who has her boss quieting in with a single look.

It’s kinda love at first sight- or if not first sight- maybe first drink. they quickly find a secondary location- a bar- and get waisted together. it’s not something the m/c’s done since she was young and desperate- getting drunk with Rich men. maybe the world hasn’t been kind to her- maybe she views namjoon only as a wallet but when she confesses it he just- shrugs. “you don’t seem disappointed with me yet- you can stay until you get judgemental. then you’re out” 

“whats got you so certain that i’ll find you disappointing?” namjoon’s not used to people praising him and meaning it- or greeting him with such honesty either. 

She becomes his paid girlfriend pretty quickly after that, maybe she never goes back to her apartment only to his, empty and full of art. she tries to sneak out in the morning only namjoon stops her. “i actually have a family lunch today, if you come i’ll make it worth your while” 

the while- happens to be a brand new gyvanche dress and a matching pair of heels. namjoon (secretly) only brings her along because he knows with an outsider there- at least his family won’t talk crime and murder- it’s so painfully boring to him. 

only…there’s something off about her. Something that reminds him maybe of a cat- or like one of his assassins, something that’s figuring him out subtly piece by peice when she watches him. she’s not judgmental of him for laying in bed all day, or for talking about art too often if anything, she seems almost to prefer it that way. 

it doesn’t take her long to figure out that namjoon isn’t just a simple art dealer, that the detail that follows him and eventually her- isn’t just for protection from the paparazzi. But to Namjoon’s surprise, the first time his bodyguard jungkook takes out a would-be assailant, she doesn’t scream or act revolted at the sight of a dead body (namjoon might be soft but he’s also been conditioned for this since birth) simple peers down at it with a cool calculating eye.

The rest of the men are watching, and waiting for her to react, until she lifts her gaze to namjoon and raises a single eyebrow. and then one of namjoon’s men is apologizing and putting his coat down for her so that she can step over it without getting blood on her louis vitton pumps.  

it’s okay, she says, “they’re already red-bottoms anyway” 

it starts slowly from then, first she expresses an interest in seeing how the family business is run, then she starts to ask specifics about the money laundering and just how deep their connections run it the government as well as insurance about their police protection. the guards and henchmen quickly learn that she’s someone to respect and make happy- even before the boss (happy wife happy life and all that). 

Namjoon’s used to having a more hands off approach to the crime side of things- but he wakes up sometimes to the smell of bleach on the air, wanders down to the kitchen to find the kitchen and his wife as ordinary and as in place as possible. (she earned the ring pretty much one month in, it was a fast engagement and an even faster wedding. 

but even namjoon had to admit there was quite a-lot of work to be done and more important things to spend money on. 

its not until a few months into their marriage that namjoon realizes that the responsibilities and headaches of being the kingpin of the mafia haven’t come to call on him recently. He hasn’t been asked to make an appearance in a while or check the security of any of their bases, and he hasn’t been called on to deal with any moles or unruly employees. 

 it’s almost as if...someone else has been taking control of them for him, like someones been doing the job he never wanted. 

namjoon would be more upset only theres not much to complain about, he gets to walk art galleries every morning and purchase lavish paintings that he wants to have in his home or on his properties. he gets to go to the opera without any dignitaries trying to seek him out and make small talk. he knows that his wife...she must be behind it- but namjoon’s almost relived that she’s taken his job. 

At night when they’re lying side by side, namjoon rubs her shoulders and confesses, “you’re a better mob boss than i ever was” 

“Don’t sell yourself short joonie- it’s not that you couldn’t be- it’s that you don’t want to be.” 

“you say that like becoming a kingpin is the same as becoming a professor- you could get into grad school if you only applied yourself more” namjoon mimics a nasal voice just to hear her laugh. 

“okay- you might be right about that one- but at least becoming a queen-pin was less expensive than 5 years of education.” 

he’s happy to live his life like he’s unaware that he’s no longer the man in control until one day...she doesn’t get home on time- they’d had plans for their first wedding anniversary- namjoon commissioned an impressionistic portrait of her as a present as well as a very small original art piece because she’s been encouraging him to try and make art of his own. 

it’s not until he gets a call that makes his blood run cold. “boss...i think they’ve taken...our other boss” 

the thing about namjoon is that he’s not a monster- unless you give him a reason to be one, and taking his wife away from him is certainly a reason to bring out the monster. 

he finds her quicker than anyone expects- maybe because she’s charmed his men as much as she’s charmed him- and nothing ever did beat out loyalty like love. he finds her and she’s mostly unharmed, only...her enemy is someone namjoon hasn’t even heard off- even if according to his men they’ve been waging litteral war for the last 4 months.

 imagine her saying “i told you he’d come” all weak from pain- maybe drawn up with some chains. 

“a dog comes when called” her captor snears, gun shaking, but namjoon’s heart feels as cold as ice as he watches her- his strong beautiful wife in pain because of him, all because he couldn’t step up. she’s right- being a kingpin is all about motivation. 

“you say that like i don’t enjoy being hers, if i’m her dog then i’m fucking biting.” 

lets just say after that she starts to see him as an equal and namjoon discovers that he might not like being a monster- but he does like being /her/ monster. and the two of them lead side by side and live happily ever after 💜 thats all i’ve got <3 

[hoedamn-eron]

doctor steven grant, phd - part 1

Your best friend's professor makes you weak at the knees.

Warnings: Age gap, but it is appropriate/legal. One sided pining (or is it?). Word count: 1,677 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Very sorry that this was posted a whole 14 hours later than planned!

Series Masterlist ● Part 2

You were a sucker for the awkward, nerdy type. Even in school, you were always fawning over the hard done by outcasts. You didn’t know what it was about them, but you’d sell your soul just to hold their hand. Yep, you were definitely a simp for an underdog. Your friends had always made fun of you for it, but you didn’t care. You had your preferences, and there was no shame in it.

Just like you had no shame in the preference you had for your best friends history professor.

University had never been your thing. You had decided you could still enjoy the ‘student life’ by going out partying with your friends and not end up in thousands of pounds of debt. And you had a full-time job so money was never a problem. But damn, if you knew Dr Grant could have been your professor, you were about to second guess your life choices.

You first set your eyes on the man when you met up with your friend for coffee by the university. It was her final year and she’d been up to her eyeballs in exams and revision, and final drafts of her dissertation, so you’d offered to take her out for a bit, to let her loosen up. She’d been working hard, and you hadn’t seen her for a while. You’d been chatting away about anything but university work when he’d caught your eye.

He’d walked into the coffee shop, red glasses perched on his nose as he frowned at his phone. He had a messenger bag hanging from his shoulder as he joined the queue. He was a bit older than you, no more than fifteen years, and he was dressed in clothes that looked just a bit too big for him but he wore them well. His dark curly hair was a tousled mess, but it looked as if it was purposely done, and you had the sudden urge to run your hands through it. He was, dare you say it, beautiful. You could practically feel yourself drooling at the sight of him.

You’d planned your life together in your head by the time your friend was waving her hand in front of your face. “Hello? Are you listening?”

You blinked as you looked away from the new object of your desires. “I’m sorry, what?”

“What are you staring at?” Her brow furrows at you as she turned in her seat, curious to see who you were looking at. An amused look comes across her face as she turned back to look at you. “You looking at the nerdy fella in the queue?”

“He’s the man of my dreams,” you sigh, as if you’re a pre-teen staring at the dreamy member of a boyband. “I have decided to marry him.”

“He’s my history professor,” laughed your friend. “He’s a doctor too…in history anyway. Dr Steven Grant, PhD.”

“How do you get anything done?”

“Because I don’t have the hots for my history professor.” Your friend smirks at you over the top of her coffee mug. “You should introduce yourself, I’m sure he’s single.”

Your mouth fell open. You had always talked a big game when it came to your fantasies that you had, but you’d never had the courage to go over and do anything about it. You’d always called it ‘window shopping’; you were happy to admire from afar and not touch the merchandise. You were scared of tainting the perfection anyway. “I could never.”

“Why? He’s exactly your type,” she teased. “He’s nerdy, he’s nice, and he has a goldfish called Gus who he is strangely proud of.”

“He’s got a goldfish?” You asked.

“He only has one fin, like Nemo.”

“He has goldfish with one fin? Oh, a man after my own heart, taking in less abled animals.” You cried, you hand landing on your heart as you look back over at Steven, who had made his way to the front of the queue and was ordering. “How has no-one snatched him up?”

“Because he’s the most awkward human being you’ll ever meet.”

You watched as Steven left the café, sipping at his flask that the barista had filled for him. From that day, every time you met up with your friend, you had hoped to catch a glimpse of her professor, but you’d had no luck. You were disappointed but of course, he hadn’t even noticed you, you had decided to just enjoy the fantasy life together you’d created a little bit longer.

Until you found him sat at the table with your best friend.

You froze a few feet from them, having been focusing on finding your bloody flat keys in the mess that was your bag. You were convinced that you’d left them at your job, but you needed them to get out the work building, so you must have had them. You were about to complain to your friend about your keys when you spotted the professor sat at the table, his flask in his grip, still wearing clothes that looked too big for him.

Your heart was hammering against your chest. He was just so good looking, it was unfair. How could he have this affect on you after only seeing him once, and he had no idea who you were? Incredibly unfair.

“Oh!” your friend cried your name as she saw you. “Sorry, I won’t be five minutes.”

“No rush, I’ll go and get myself a drink,” you reply, eyeing Steven, who gave you a shy smile. “Can I get you both anything?”

“No, we’re okay, thank you. Dr Grant was just helping me with some notes for my dissertation.”

You nod before turning to join the queue, before you find your gaze back on Steven. He was talking animatedly, his hands moving around with enthusiasm. Oh his hands, how had you not noticed the first time? This man was going to kill you.

“…and that’s how Ching Shih became an active pirate commander in the fleet, because her husband saw her as an equal.”

As you sat in the chair opposite the two, you listened intently to his speech about feminism in history, which your friend was incredibly passionate about, and was her next focus so she could move on to do her master’s degree. You were enamoured again by the way his hands moved and the way he spoke, those red glasses back on his face as your friend typed away on her laptop.

You blinked, your eyes focusing as your friend slammed her laptop closed. “Thank you, Dr Grant, that’s been a big help.”

“Not to worry,” Steven replied, sending a smile over to her as he took a sip of the drink that was in his flask. “Remember that I’m just an email away if you need more help.”

Your friend gave him another thanks before introducing you to him. Steven took off his glasses and his gaze finally landed on you properly as you tried introducing yourself like a functioning human being, but you were sure you were as red as a tomato and you couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. Brown was suddenly your favourite colour. You shook Steven’s hand and oh you could die. What was this man doing to you? You hadn’t even really spoken to him yet and you’re already a bumbling mess.

“Are you at the university too?” Steven asked, his forehead furrowed slightly in interest.

You shook your head. “No, no more education for me. We just meet up every few days for a drink and catch up.”

God you sounded so immature. Steven smiled anyway. “Oh well that’s good. Work can be just as stressful as school and exams, you have to take time for yourself.”

“Yeah,” you breathed, not being able to think of anything else to say. Does he know what effect he has on you, like at all? Surely he must know how good looking he was?

“Have you both been friends for long?”

“Since the beginning of high school,” you replied after a small pause. You needed a reboot, how does one have a conversation again?

Steven nodded, still smiling at you, not knowing about your inner turmoil. You wrack your brain for something, anything to say. “So you have a goldfish?”

You mentally slap yourself and you can see your friend grimacing behind her coffee mug.

Steven blinked at you and if it were even possibly, his smile brightened. “Two, actually. Gus and Gus Two. I’m not very creative with names. It’s nice to have a pet, someone who relies on you, even if it is just a goldfish.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod, your brain just letting off white noise. Your friend, trying to stop this disaster of a conversation, thanked Steven again for the help as he nodded, packing up his things and grabbing his flask. He stood. “I have some extra material I can give you after lecture on Thursday, just stop by my desk.” Steven called your name, causing you to give him a small smile. “It was nice to meet you. Hope to see you around again.” And with that, he left.

You groan as you bury your face into his palms, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. “That was the most embarrassing interaction I’ve ever had with another human. Was that as bad as it seemed?”

Your friend bit her lip, giving you a sympathetic look. “It could have gone better.”

“He’s going to think I’m just some dumb kid who can’t string a sentence together.” You groan as you slide down the chair, wanting the floor to swallow you whole. “I can’t believe I asked him about his goldfish.”

Your friend chuckled as she shook her head. She picked up her latte as she noticed something on the table. “Well, at least you made a lasting impression.”

“What makes you say that? Because I’m a bumbling idiot?”

“No, because he’s left his university business card on the table and I definitely don’t need that.”

[voxofthevoid]

I usually post these ~12 hours earlier, buuuut I queue these on Tuesday, usually, and this time, I lost track of the days/dates. That happens a lot, to be fair.

This fic is now a baby novel: 53k and counting. I only have 2.5 chapters left to write, at least.

Onto Time Travel Fuck-It Wednesday #6! Have some Nanami.

“Nanami,” Satoru greets cheerfully. “Where is he? You didn’t lose my Yuuji, did you?”

“He’s at the school with your first-years,” comes the clipped answer. Nanami opens the door wider with visible reluctance. “Come inside. We need to talk.”

Satoru whistles softly. “Sounds like I’m in trouble.”

Nanami doesn’t dignify that with an answer, turning on his heels and marching deeper into his apartment. Satoru follows, closing the door behind him, and isn’t particularly surprised to find a bottle of some liquor and a half-full glass on the coffee table. Nanami’s sitting in one corner of the couch, his hunched body and the tension thrumming in it reminding Satoru of how he found Yuuji after he introduced him to Megumi and Nobara.

That night ended very pleasantly, but Satoru doesn’t have high hopes for this conversation.

He takes the recliner opposite the couch, sinking into the plush upholstery. Nanami has the air of a man who’s considering his words. He’s dressed casually, in a long-sleeved t-shirt and sweatpants, but there’s nothing easy or comfortable about his posture or demeanor.

Sure enough—

“What exactly is your relationship with Itadori-kun?”

Satoru can’t help smiling. “You never change, Nanami.”

“Answer the question.” A split-second of hesitation, followed by— “Please.”

“You already know what Yuuji is to me. You wouldn’t bother with this little…interrogation otherwise,” Satoru points out.

He can hear Nanami grind his teeth. “You’re wrong.”

“Oh?”

“I know what you mean to Itadori-kun. I know nothing of your feelings.”

Satoru hums. “I think I should be offended.”

“Gojou-san.”

Satoru holds his arms up in a faux-conciliatory gesture. “Fine, fine. Yuuji is…” There’s a lot Satoru could say: special, beautiful, brave, damned. The list goes on, and each one is as true as the others. But in the end, it comes down to— “He’s mine.”

Nanami briefly, furiously screws his eyes shut. Satoru isn’t entirely unsympathetic, but then, what was Nanami really expecting? He should know by now not to ask questions he doesn’t want the answer to, especially if he knows them already.

Nanami says, “You’re going to kill him.”

Satoru doesn’t waver; he doesn’t allow it. “I am.”

“He knows.”

“He does.”

Dark, angry eyes skewer Satoru. “How do you justify this?”

“You’ll have to be more precise, Nanami.” Satoru smiles. Nanami gaze drops to it, and his whole face draws up tight. “What am I meant to justify? The killing? You already know why. I told you first thing. The loving? Are you saying I should’ve rejected him?”

“Yes. Obviously, you—”

“And then what?” Satoru cuts in, and he finds he can’t quite keep up that smile anymore. “Let him die a broken-hearted virgin? Why would I do that when I can give him what he wants instead?”

Nanami seems on the verge of rising from the couch and leaping at Satoru. He never will, of course. He’s one of the most controlled people Satoru has ever known. But it says something that Nanami’s tempted, and the fact that it shows is telling in its own way.

All this after two measly weeks—Yuuji really is something else.

“Don’t you dare pretend this was for his sake.” Nanami’s voice is even, but there’s an edge to the words that carve up the air between them. “You’ve never been anything but selfish, but this is downright cruel.”

“Ouch,” Satoru intones. “Tell me what you really feel.”

Nanami ignores him. “You can’t be so idiotic as to think it’s better for Itadori-kun to be killed by a lover.”

“Have you asked him? No, I know you haven’t. You should. The answer might surprise you.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Nanami snaps. “That’s not a question any child should have to answer. And you—”

Satoru tilts his head to the side, watching Nanami’s mouth flatter into an even thinner line. “Go on.”

Nanami’s silent for the longest time. It’s not anything as wise as hesitance. His eyes are burning, and there’s a red tint to his ears and cheeks that has nothing to do with the half-drained glass of alcohol on the table. Nanami’s filters might be lower than usual or ideal, but he’s not lacking clarity.

There’s the fleeting thought that maybe Satoru should have answered some of his calls, just to let him get it out of his system in increments, all from a safe distance. Yuuji would have expertly handled Nanami in the aftermath, he’s sure. He might even have scolded Satoru, which is always delightfully novel.

But Satoru’s finding it hard to summon any real regret. He doesn’t want to antagonize Nanami. He understands where he’s coming from. He’s even glad, albeit in a distant way he can’t really feel at the moment, that Nanami’s already grown to care so much for Yuuji. He knows it’ll make Yuuji happy.

Still, something grates.

“Do you not care?” Nanami finally asks, so softly that Satoru’s skin prickles in alarm. “Or did killing your last lover rob you of whatever humanity you had left?”

Satoru laughs.

Mouth open, head thrown back, loud and unfettered.

He laughs until his eyes burn and throat aches, and he knows, the full might of the Six Eyes trained on Nanami despite the laughter racking his body, that it’s not the reaction Nanami expected. His expression is caught halfway between anger and surprise, and the end result is strangely comical. That doesn’t help Satoru calm down any.

It’s not funny, of course.

You don’t wield jujutsu to protect anything. You only use it for self-satisfaction.

None of this is funny.

By the time his laughter tapers off, the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife.

“And you call me cruel,” Satoru says, still a little breathless. “Sometimes, Nanami, I think I can’t forgive you after all.”

To his credit, Nanami recovers quickly. “I don’t need your forgiveness.”

“I will anyway,” Satoru says, head still tipped back. He forces his eyes to focus on the blue-grey ceiling instead of Nanami. “Not for your sake. Not even for mine. But we didn’t survive this long to fight now. Yuuji would be sad.”

A strangled sound escapes Nanami. “Gojou—”

The front door bangs open.

“Nanamin,” crows a familiar voice. “I’m home!”

“Shit,” Nanami curses softly.

Satoru stays put, but his attention is a different matter, fixating on Yuuji’s presence with a fervor that burns him from blood to bone. It takes only seconds for him to enter the living room, and Satoru knows the exact moment Yuuji spots him.

His whole body sings.

“Satoru,” Yuuji gasps, distilled delight. “You’re back!”

Satoru raises his head, the smile on his mouth as helpless as it’s real. “Surprise. Did you miss me?”