#scheduling before i change my mind and delete it

[mxstellatayte]

pretty please: chapter two.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter two warnings: covid happens :(, avoiding big emotional conversations, phone sex (not graphic,) i definitely deleted any and all covid social distancing rules when i was writing this but it'S FOR THE PLOT, oral sex (f receiving, not graphic,) LEWIS IS SUGAR DADDY!!!!!!!! (but there's also feelings but we don't want to admit that yet hehehehehehe)

chapter two word count: 3.7k

taglist (crossed out means i could not tag you/no blog was found): @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy

@anat33-blog1 @Xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17

@marknolee @toby33b @theendofthematerialgworl @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808

join my taglist here!

take my hand while we dance on the edge of a knife

tuesday, 3 december, 2019

your phone chimes in the formula 1 radio tone, a custom ringtone you'd set just for lewis. glancing away from your computer screen, you see a simple text.

Hey.

what should you say? "hey yourself?" no, too sassy. "hey, thanks for the mind-blowing sex a few days ago. i think i'm into you, do you wanna go out?" way too forward. "hey!" too excited.

you settle on a simple "hey." in response.

for good measure, you add on a second text.

Thanks for the flight yesterday :)

his response? a simple "Yeah of course!"

"alright. so i'm going to have to be the one to bring it up. gotcha."

so this was the dance that you'd be doing. you'd just move on from the most life-changing sex you've ever had with four texts. you'd take a step forward, try to ask about what this would mean for your professional relationship, if anything, and he'd have one-sentence answers before moving on to a different topic.

that's fine.

it totally didn't make you insane.

definitely not.

instead of thinking about your client-slash-friend-slash-maybe-fuck-buddy over your winter holidays, you opt for drowning yourself in advance work, opting to make your contributions to the february 2020 issue the best the world has ever seen. your articles for the january issue are long submitted, but now that you've submitted everything for finalization for the next two months, you have a staycation at home with your cats, crochet, shitty reality tv, and a lot of alcohol filling up your schedule for the next two weeks (and a short visit to your parents up in leeds for christmas, but that's naught but a short interruption to your routine,) and you don't intend on letting work interrupt a single moment of the next two weeks.

the key word in that sentence being intend.

although, is it really considered work if it's just texting back and forth with someone who's a client-slash-friend-slash-maybe-fuck-buddy and not exactly a coworker?

"girl, i swear down on my nan's grave," amelia begins, and you grin, already knowing you're about to get a true amelia lorenz lecture, "if you don't make a move on him before new year's, i will, and i don't think he even knows my name!" she continues by weaving an intricate web of every single sign she's seen that points to the mutual attraction between yourself and the driver, and you're not sure when the right time is to tell her that you've already had sex with him. luckily, you find an opportunity when she stands from your couch to refill her glass of whiskey and pauses her monologue.

"is now a good time to tell you that we shagged after abu dhabi?"

amelia's head whips around so fast you're surprised it doesn't snap off of her neck. "you what?" you grin sheepishly, any and all confidence you've ever had in your entire life having evaporated in a microsecond. when she sits down opposite you on the couch, her left leg tucked into her crotch and her right hanging off the side, she has to set her glass on your coffee table so that she doesn't splash the whiskey everywhere. you both know what's coming purely based off of her body language. she takes a deep breath, then presses her hands together in a prayer-like stace and rests the nook of her nose in her fingertips. "let me get this straight." she pauses. "you." her right hand points directly at you as she says your full name. "shagged the lewis hamilton. and you didn't tell me immediately?"

"why do you think i wasn't on the flight back?" amelia's eyes widen in realization, and a grin spreads across her face.

"he flew you back on his jet?" you nod, taking another sip of your drink, and amelia squeals with delight. "i need every single detail. start talking."

friday, 13 march, 2020

your phone vibrates on your desk, and you glance over at it, unlocking it when you see the f1 logo on the notification. your heart sinks when you see what the notification reads, though.

"formula 1, fia and agpc announce cancellation of the 2020 australian grand prix"

"shit," you mutter, switching your phone off and resting your head in your hands. it won't be long before the lockdown reaches london, you know that, but it's difficult knowing that lewis was looking forward to being in the car again, especially with some of the new regulations that he hoped would lead to closer racing.

you send him a text before you go to sleep- it's almost 3 am.

Sorry to hear about the race. I know you were looking forward to driving.

by the time you've fallen asleep, though, lewis has seen your text and he gnaws at his lower lip, his thumbs hesitating over the keyboard of his phone's screen. yeah, he was looking forward to driving, but as the pandemic numbers increased, his anxiety about the race weekend did, too.

Thanks. I'm glad they called it off, though. The numbers were getting too high too fast.

months pass. your interviews with various drivers at the monaco and british grands prix are moved to video calls. the world gets thrown into lockdown, eases out of it, and then gets thrown into lockdown once more. dolphins are spotted in the canals of venice. george floyd's murder sparks a revolution that reaches all corners of the globe.

you don't go a day without texting, calling, or video calling with lewis.

it's sickening, really, how much his smile is keeping you sane. well, if you're being honest, it's a combination of his smile, your medication, and going on a lot of walks around your neighbourhood. leytonstone is a lovely part of london, yes, but there's only so many different routes you can take around the neighbourhood before you start itching to jump on a train and go anywhere.

in early june, you get the email. you'll be traveling to silverstone for a set of interviews with various drivers for the 70th anniversary race. it's the fifth of seventeen races on the updated calendar, and the email states that you may be sent to the abu dhabi grand prix, as well.

wednesday, 29 july, 2020.

you're practically vibrating with excitement as you board the first of four trains that will take you to your hotel. you're leaving a week before you're due in silverstone, though, because why wouldn't you take advantage of the double header race? you've never been to a race purely as a spectator and your giddiness makes you laugh. how going to a race has given you the butterflies in your stomach that you haven't felt since you were a teenager, you'll never know. sure, with the fia's no-spectator rule, you aren't really sure how people are planning on watching the race, but you're sure you'll learn as the weekend progresses. either way, you're one of many fans taking the train up to silverstone despite the rules stating that no fans could enter the paddock or the grandstands, many hopeful that simply being in the same general area might get them a chance of seeing any of the drivers in person. a few of the racing fans on the train even recognize you, one timidly holding the july 2019 edition of vogue.

the edition where your first interview with lewis was published.

"could you sign it?"

your jaw opens and closes beneath your mask a few times before you're able to regain your composure, accepting the magazine and sharpie from her with a smile.

"what's your name, darling? here, sit with me." she does, sitting across the aisle from you and nervously tucking a curl of ginger-brown hair behind her ear.

"kathleen. but you can call me kat," she adds, and you smile as you write a small note on the inside cover, adding your signature afterwards. "are you interviewing lewis hamilton this weekend?"

"i don't have any interviews this weekend. just next weekend." you look more intently at kat's outfit, and you smile below your mask. she's wearing a mercedes hoodie and baggy jeans, and you notice that her outfit reminds you of someone. "i like your outfit. it reminds me of some of lewis' outfits, actually." kat beams beneath her mask, her eyes scrunching up into happy crescents.

"thank you! he's kinda the inspiration behind my outfits for the weekend. i'm a huge fan of him, have been for years. i'll be honest, i didn't read much about fashion until you interviewed him, but i really liked your article and looked up some of your others. the one you wrote critiquing paparazzi for stalking celebrities was incredible! you wrote it so freely. i loved it." kat catches herself, noticing her rambling, folding her hands in her lap nervously. "sorry. i talk when i'm nervous."

"you have nothing to be nervous about. i'm just another human being." you hesitate a moment, leaning over to her as you pass the magazine and sharpie marker back. "can i tell you a secret?" she nods. "i was terrified the first time i interviewed lewis." kat's eyes grow wide, and you nod. "i was so nervous. i almost got sick a couple of times, actually."

"really?"

"mhm. i'm surprised i didn't."

"i definitely would."

"i doubt that. lewis is as nice- if not nicer- than he seems. after the first five minutes of talking to him, i knew i had nothing to worry about."

the two of you spend the remaining time on the trains talking together, and she animatedly drags her father towards you and you shake his hand, introducing yourself.

"pleasure to meet you. my name's dan. thank you for being a role model for my little girl." your heart swells with pride at the praise, and you nod.

"you're raising a very fine young woman, dan. she's got a bright future ahead of her." dan nods and thanks you, grinning behind his mask. you know, from what kat's told you, that dan has been a fan of formula 1 since the michael schumacher days and that he's been to three grands prix in his life- silverstone 2003, silverstone 2004, and germany 2008. this'll be his fourth. you also know that the white and papaya t-shirt he's wearing is from the most recent race he's attended. "do you happen to have instagram, dan?"

"i do, why?" his eyes narrow slightly, and you can understand why your question seems a little strange.

"i'm writing a piece about fan presence at recent grands prix, since there's been the 'no fans allowed inside' order from the fia, and would love to interview you and kat before and after the weekend," you lie. "i'd be willing to keep you both anonymous, if you'd like. if i can message you on instagram, it wouldn't be as much of a hassle as writing emails to communicate."

"i'd prefer we remain anonymous, but i'm sure she'd love to be interviewed."

you can't tie me down, but you can tie me up

thursday, 30 july, 2020.

the next morning, you call lewis, the hotel's breakfast menu next to you on your bed and your notepad perched on your lap, your pre-weekend "interview" with dan and kat in just over 90 minutes. lewis picks up the call on the third ring.

"hey!" you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling too much, a rush of dopamine flooding your brain at the sound of his voice. "can i call you back in half an hour? i've got media stuff to do in about five minutes."

"i'll be fast. can you get two paddock passes made for sunday under the names kathleen and dan gallagher?"

"they'll have to be media passes, but yeah, why?"

"you'll see. i'll text you the names so you have them. see you in a few days!"

after texting bono a quick message regarding your own pass and ensuring that he would keep it completely and entirely a secret from lewis, you flop backwards onto your bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment. "what the hell have i gotten myself into?"

since the pandemic began, your relationship with lewis has been... well... less than professional.

your daily phone calls and texts with him have contained topics that still make shivers run up your spine and a flush of heat fill your cheeks and neck when you think about them. there have been many nights where you've been on a call with lewis and you're both breathing heavily, clothes messily strewn across your respective beds in a rush to lay back against your pillows and touch yourself to completion, obeying each other's commands and wishes.

there have also been many nights where you're tucked into your beds, roscoe fast asleep next to lewis and your own furry companions, pipsqueak and garfburger, the latter of which amelia named, curled into a ball of rare calmness next to you. the two of you ultimately fall asleep on the call, the idea of having someone with you, even if not physically, helping soothe your anxiety.

both types of calls are incredibly intimate and beautiful, each in their own way.

four days later, you're meeting up with bono outside the paddock to get your own pass and messaging back and forth with dan, attempting to figure out where you can meet him near the paddock entrance. trying to explain to him why you need to meet up today when your scheduled interview time is tomorrow without giving too many details proves to be a difficult task but you're thankfully able to manage. five minutes after bono appears, three media passes in hand, you see dan and kat round the corner. you wave him down, a smile on your face, and kat immediately comes running over to you. today, she sports a pair of baggy jeans, a hamilton jersey over what you assume is the same mercedes hoodie she was wearing on the train, and an incredibly well-loved pair of black platform converse.

"good morning to you both," you say, a bright grin on your face beneath your mask. from the way kat's eyes scrunch up behind glasses you can tell her own smile outshines your own.

"good morning! dad said you had some mid-weekend questions for us?"

"well..." your eyes flick back and forth between dan and kat, and you can see the gears turning in dan's head, but kat remains oblivious. "the mid-weekend questions were a bit of a lie, but i think- i hope- that what i have in my jacket pocket is enough for you to forgive me." with that, you pull the two black and purple media passes out of your jacket, check which one has kat's name on it and which has dan's, and hand them to their respective owners. "kathleen and dan gallagher, welcome to the formula 1 silverstone paddock."

"are you serious?" dan says in disbelief, and when you nod, kat squeaks in delight and throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around you in a vice grip.

"thank you thank you, thank you!"

"you're very welcome. are you ready to go see some cool cars?"

"is that a joke? of course!" kat looks at her father, hoping for some small nod of approval, and, when he does, you think the girl still glued to your torso might just combust from excitement. you can tell that dan's barely containing his own joy, his eyes mirroring the amount of joy you see in kat's.

"in that case, let's go." after about an hour of walking through the paddock, finding spare headsets in the mclaren garage, and smiling as kat and dan can't control their own amazement at the works of engineering in front of them land sheepishly asking a few drivers for photos,) you make your way, finally, to the mercedes garage. "re you two hungry at all? care for a coffee or tea? mercedes has the best food in the paddock. "

"i'd love a coffee, actually." dan says. "kat? you want anything?"

"a cuppa sounds perfect, thank you."

"i've got it. here, have a seat, i'll be right back, " you say, attempting to sound as casual as physically possible when you know you're about to blow their minds. they sit at one of the tables in the small cafe, and you go up to the barista, ordering dan and kat's drinks before ducking away and making your way to lewis' driver's room, knocking a few times and stepping back, smiling when the door opens and you see him, fuck, he looks good. "hi, lewis."

he knew you were going to be in silver stone for the 70th anniversary race, but that isn't until next weekend. "you've here early," he says, leaning against the doorframe. "why's that?"

"i can't want to see my favorite driver at his home race?" you cock an eyebrow and cross your arms, but there's sarcasm evident in your voice. "plus, i missed you. can i tie up your schedule for a bit?"

"it depends. how is my schedule being tied up if i agree?" lewis is matching your own bass, and you smile.

"just some people i'd like you to meet. remember those passes i asked you to have made? well... they're in the cafe and i think the cherry on top of their day would be meeting you."

"in that case, you can tie up my schedule, but i only have fifteen minutes before the strategy meeting." you grin brightly, and your eyes squishing in the corners makes lewis smile in turn, "before we go, though, i do have a little request. come in for a quick minute?" he steps to the side and you gladly follow, turning towards lewis when you hear the door click shut behind you. he's taking off his Mercedes- branded face mask, and you take that as permission lo take your own off. "you know..." he begins, stepping towards you. your breath catches in your throat as all of your senses one immediately overwhelmed with everything lewis. his left hand comes up to hold your and check you gladly lean into his touch, the gentleness of his touch a stark contrast his calloused to fingertips. the next words he says ring in your head, repeating like church bells.

"i missed you, too." those words are the last thing you process before lewis' lips are on yours and every ounce of tension leaves your body.

"mm, lewis, " you say, pulling away from the blissful kiss much to your dismay. "our guests are waiting." lewis groans, and you giggle.

"fine, but after we've done with that and i'm free from my strategy meeting, we're coming back here and finishing what we started."

"deal."

kat and dan are, obviously, completely and entirely dumbfounded when you return to the cafe, six-time world champion in tow.

they're even happier when they watch lewis cross the line in first place, five seconds ahead of max verstappen.

after the podium and post-race interviews, you find yourself crowded against the wall of lewis' driver's room yet again. your kisses are hot and messy, desperate hands wandering around each other's bodies. sometime in the lust-addled haze, you're laying back onto the couch pushed against the back wall and your jeans are being thrown somewhere across the room. whatever, you don't care where they are or how wrinkled they're going to be because lewis is eating you out again and, within minutes, you're cumming on his tongue again as his nose bumps against your clit. when he kisses you, your cum smears on your cheeks and chin and nose and it's so, so filthy, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

"are you coming to any other races this year?" lewis speaks up, his voice echoing through his chest. he's found you a pair of joggers that you'd slipped on after another set of blissful kisses and a messy (but very perfect) handjob. he's laying on the couch and you're resting on top of him, your arms wrapped around his torso and his own surrounding your shoulders. your socked feet are tangled with lewis' own, and his fingers, unusually absent of any jewelry, run gently along the curve of your shoulders.

"i'm not sure. i haven't gotten any race assignments yet from upper management, and traveling is really difficult right now if you don't have a work visa."

"i bet i can send some emails." you can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"lewis," you scoff, burying your face in his chest. he smells like forests and jasmine and safety. "you're going to be the death of me."

[librarycards]

pls ignore this is its too weird or too much labor, but i was wondering if you maybe had any tips or resources for ppl who have creative desires like writing but brain fog and fatigue tends to get in the way?

i do! it may not work for you bc people have very random/unexpected ways of dealing with this, but it's *very* common and there is hope :) [i think a lot of this is applicable across form, but i'm using "writing" here because it's what i'm familiar with]

one way is to be strategic about timing: this includes thinking about when you're least foggy/have the most energy, and/or the most "downtime" where there isn't anything in particular you need to do. many people wake up early so that they have alone time before their responsibilities. some people stay up late to write. i tend to do my daily writing (which I elucidate on below) in the evenings, around 7-10pm. whatever works, works!

relatedly: scheduling/routine is, for me, critical. i think it is for a lot of creative ppl. I write every day, in multiple ways: i keep a journal - i've done this since i was like 12, so it's as ingrained as brushing my teeth and i don't really think about it - and also work on some aspect of my current longest project [so, for the last 4 years, it's been the aforementioned second novel; for the 4ish years before that, it was Failure to Comply. i write other stuff during the daytime, of course, because writing is also my job(s). but if you're looking to establish a consistent creative practice, you don't need to be aiming for a certain hour or word count.

Instead: Aim for consistency and progress. Not perfection, not a "muse," not magic. There is no shame in making something that doesn't seem good, or that you end up deleting. in this particular instance, "perfect is the enemy of good" is 10000% true, and i think especially applicable to people who already experience external + internalized ableist ideologies on a daily basis. your art, regardless of what it is, should be a space where you get to make mistakes, change your mind, and learn new things. it should be something you can come to when you're tired, unsure, confused, scared, etc, even if it means just keysmashing and then closing your notes app for the day.

for me, having a daily practice, regardless of anything, means embracing the days where i write only one word and then despair, as well as the days i write pages. when i feel most depressed, in a very clinicized sense, i try to move from "everything i make now is going to be shitty :(" to "everything i make now is going to be shitty :)", not because i'm happy about it, but because....that's simply part of creating. everything is a bodily function. if you're not feeling good, maybe your poop will look weird. so too with writing. but you still do it. it can be mechanical. but it'll happen, and by doing it consistently, you give yourself the *opportunity* to locate insight hitherto buried, to have an idea creep up on your tiredself.

i guess in sum I'd say that the healthiest thing i ever did for my writing is something tantamount to body neutrality, which has also been an immensely positive addition to my set of frameworks for physical embodimindment. creative neutrality, i guess. this doesn't mean i don't tie my ego and personhood to work/productivity/quality. i mean, i totally do, and it sucks, but there we are. but it also means that i place that in a corner that does not touch my desire to chip away at something big, regularly. i make time every day to summon the urgency of whatever i'm working on, not because i'm proud of it at that moment, but because i want to give it another opportunity to give me something cool.

tl:dr: give yourself the gift of consistency and time, and don't be scared of making stuff that isn't good, or gets deleted, or doesn't make sense. write from wherever you want, physically, mentally, spiritually. give it the opportunity & even the expectation to happen and then work from there.

[raainberry]

Whispers in the Hallway

Momo x gn!reader

synopsis - two months of hiding your relationship from the kitchen, it’s only a matter time until it gets out

wordcount - 5.2K

T/W - this serves as an epilogue to “compliments to chef” but you dont need to have read it to enjoy this one kinda chaebol!momo - chef!reader - mentions of food - you don't hate each other anymore - kinda suggestive at some points but nothing too crazy - that's all i can think of, tell me if i missed anything

A/N - chef epilogue v.2, shout out to @cry4mina this ones for you sorry i gatekeeped it for so long tell me when you read it so i can delete

The last of the dinner shift guests left the building, unknowingly crossing the path with the owner.

Momo sent them a polite nod, her eyes shifting to their linked arms and entwined hands. Two months ago, she would have rolled them at the sight. Love on display, even late at night when only the moon could complain, she used to despise it.

Or so she thought. Turned out she was only single

That night her eyes narrowed with a soft smile. The couple barely paid her any mind, lost in their love, but she couldn’t care less.

She was on her way to meet her own.

Sure, she had to sneak around the back and hid it from most people, but it was there. Waiting for her, in that dim lit hallway near the walk-in freezer.

That location wasn’t exactly sexy, but romance wasn’t dead. As long as you were there, she’d meet you anywhere.

Holding her excuse against her chest—a stack of meaningless papers—she slipped into the restaurant, her presence a well-practiced secret.

A small smile played on your lips as she approached. It was an oddly intimate invite, the lighting casting soft shadows that seemed to close you off from the rest of the world.

"Hey," she greeted softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," you replied, stepping closer. "Everything alright?"

She nodded, handing you the stack of papers. "Just wanted to go over these changes with you before tomorrow."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you looked down at the printed ink. “‘March ‘22 Menu Items’? Seriously?” You looked up to find her eyes, meeting the faint blush on her cheeks.

“It was all I had around...” She said, allowing herself to pout a little at your amusement.

“I guess it’ll do,” you shrugged off, deciding to let her off the hook this time. “To what do I owe this honor then if not for actual work?”

Momo grinned. Real talk, finally. “There’s this place a few blocks away I wanted to check out.” Her hands wiped the jet black uniform on your shoulders, adjusting the wrinkles from the day. “Benchmarking. I could use your help.”

You hummed, “That new Japanese place that opened a couple weeks ago?”

“That one,” she nodded, pursing her lips. It was adorable, the way she tried to keep it professional. She was doing a great job. An adorably great job. “What do you say?”

“I say that’s a great idea. Can’t let an opportunity to get inspired slip my hands, right?”

It took everything in her not to kiss you. That smile of yours, the way you looked at her… This was the only downside of keeping you a secret.

She settled on a smile, and you were more than fine with it. Seeing her struggle not to lean in was enough of a satisfying sight for now.

“I knew I could count on you.”

You stood there, wrapping up the conversation with soft laughter and shared smiles. These were also a rare moment of peace amidst your hectic schedules, and you made sure to savor it.

It wasn’t unusual for you to prolong them, carrying your talks into a much more personal territory. Nothing crazy nor risky, only a couple questions about each other’s day. The information was probably not worth risking getting caught, especially if you could get it in the privacy and comfort of her living room an hour later; but alas.

Falling love is anything but rational.

“How did you like your lunch?” You asked, eager to get her feedback on that new twist you’d added to her favorite.

And as she told you all about her thoughts, Mingyu and Ryujin were making their way through the kitchen, finishing up their tasks for the night.

As they passed the hallway, they heard the soft murmur of voices.

Curiosity piqued, Ryujin nudged Mingyu, and they both peered around the corner, their eyes widening at the sight before them.

You two were standing close. Too close. Heads bowed together, whispering. There was an unmistakable tenderness in the way you looked at each other, something that spoke volumes no matter how hushed your voices were.

"Are they...?" Ryujin trailed off, her voice barely audible.

Mingyu grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Looks like it."

They watched for a moment longer, seeing Momo lightly touch your arm, her fingers lingering just a bit too long for it to be casual. The way you leaned into that touch confirmed it all.

Ryujin pulled back, a grin spreading across her face. "I knew it. I knew there was something going on. Pay up.”

Mingyu chuckled quietly. "Wallet’s in my locker. I’ll give them to you later.”

Ryujin narrowed his eyes on him. “Right. Twenty dollars,” her finger reminded, and he laughed.

“Twenty dollars.” He nodded, glancing back to the hallway. “Guess we should keep this to ourselves, though, huh? Let them have their secret for a bit longer."

Ryujin nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but it’s going to be fun watching them try to hide it."

Their eyes met once more, the same idea popping in both their minds.

“Twenty more on the table, how long do they keep this up for?” Mingyu said, holding out his hand.

Ryujin only looked down at his palm, thinking. “Let’s talk.”

They shared a quiet smirk before quietly retreating, leaving the two of you completely unaware and oblivious that your secret was no longer as well-kept as you thought.

“You parked outside?” You asked, already knowing the answer. She confirmed it with a slight nod. “See you there in thirty?”

She nodded once more and you finally parted ways. Momo headed back to her car to wait for you while you returned to the kitchen. You both carried the warmth of your connection, but unlike her, you had to cool it before joining Ryujin and Mingyu.

The two of them greeted you with innocent smiles. You didn’t like it.

“What?”

“Nothing, chef.” Ryujin’s expression was nonchalant. Stacking plates like you’d asked her to moments ago.

Only odd thing was the twinkle in her eyes when she glanced at Mingyu.

“Just wrapping things up.” Mingyu added, wiping down a counter.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, sensing the unspoken words between them. “Okay… Right, well let’s make sure everything is spotless.”

—

“Are you okay?”

The poor sushi on your plate was grateful for the break. Momo’s voice had halted your train of thoughts, during which you kept pushing your food around.

Glancing up at Momo, you found her eyes already on you, her chopsticks paused mid-air. She tried to ignore it, but the lack of conversation on your end was kind of ruining this date night.

You knew it. You felt it. That’s why you hesitated to tell her about what circled your mind. Your suspicions about Ryujin and Mingyu’s odd behavior lately.

You weren’t blind nor deaf. Neither were you stupid. You could put two and two together, regardless of the result pleasing you or not. They definitely were on to you.

You didn’t want to worry Momo, but you knew keeping it to yourself would only make you nervous. More prone to errors and slip-ups.

So you sighed, “Yeah, I’m fine,” trying to sound casual. “Just… I think Mingyu and Ryujin might have figured us out.”

Momo’s eyes widened slightly, her chopsticks lowering slowly. “What makes you think that?”

“They’re acting a bit… weird lately,” you explained, fiddling with your napkin. “You know how they are—playful and stuff, but… I don’t know, tonight they were just too… odd. And there was this look that they shared too.”

Momo’s brows furrowed. A little too loose of proofs but, she didn’t want to dismiss them just yet. “Do you think they’d tell anyone?”

You thought about it for a bit, but it was useless. The answer was obvious. “No,” you sighed, leaning back against the chair. “I don’t think so. They’re good people, just very nosy. Knowing them, they’ll probably just have their fun watching us.”

Momo smiled, somewhat reassured by your words. She allowed herself to relax, picking up the sushi she’d given up on earlier. “Well, I guess we’ll have to be more careful.”

You chuckled softly, the tension easing away. “Really? I thought you’d stop your little visits.”

Momo giggled, shaking her head no. “Never. I mean, it was annoying at first, but it’s actually kind of exciting. The sneaking around, the secrets…”

Her gaze held a sense of mischief you recognized from your moments behind closed doors. The ones at her place or yours, where you didn’t have to hide from her world. The memories made you smile, along with the sight of them through her eyes.

“I can’t say I’m not enjoying it.” You smiled, grabbing your glass to cheer with her.

She clinked her glass against yours, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “To keeping secrets.”

“And to not getting caught,” you grinned.

—

“Do you think they’ll bet on us?”

You glanced at Momo, and the sight of her in your t-shirt made her question vanish from your mind for a hot second. The way it fell on her shoulders, baggy and reaching slightly too high on her thighs, revealing just enough of the cute shorts underneath to make your heart skip a beat.

The evening was calm, a nice close to the night. You’d walked into Momo’s apartment right as midnight turned to one. The late hour enveloped you in it’s peace and quiet, offering you a moment to cherish.

“Y/n?”

“Hm?”

“If you want to stare at least do it subtly.”

Blood heated up your cheeks in no time, and you focused back on the toothbrush in your hands to hide your embarrassment. “Sorry, you just look… really good.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Nice save.”

You watched from the corner of your eye as she raised a foot to the sink she was sitting on top of, hugging her knee to her chest. The movement was casual, yet it highlighted her grace and the intimacy that had grown between you two.

You cleared your throat, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “Anyway, yeah probably. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“What do you say we give them a run for their money then.”

You raised an eyebrow, the toothpaste foaming at your lips now. “What do you mean?”

Momo grinned, a mischievous spark in her eyes. “Just… subtle things. Little moments that keep them guessing.”

You laughed softly, the idea sounding both thrilling and amusing. “Oh, I didn’t know you were bad like that,” you teased, making her to roll her eyes. “But I’m all for it. Go on, what do you have in mind?”

She tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe… a secret smile here, a lingering touch there. Just enough to make them question everything.”

She demonstrated by brushing her fingers lightly against your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. Her touch lingered just a moment longer than necessary, her eyes locking with yours.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. Your voice was a little higher than usual, strained, betraying the sudden lack of oxygen from her touch. “It could be fun.”

Momo chuckled, clearly amused and loving to see you lose your composure like that for her. It was familiar, taking her back to when you both spent all your time getting on each other’s nerves in the kitchen. The memory held a weird sense of nostalgia now.

You finished brushing your teeth and rinsed your mouth, still smiling at her earlier proposal. Momo hopped off the sink, her bare feet making a soft thud on the bathroom floor.

Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. “Ready for bed?” she asked, her voice soft, a bit tired.

You nodded and leaned in for a kiss. She hesitated for a moment, making you chase it just to tease you, but ultimately gave in, granting you that small peck you’d grown addicted to as days went by.

Her giggles resonated when your lips trailed to her neck, contrasting with the quiet and shy compliments that followed. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, though the word did nothing to tame the affection in her voice.

You loved these moments—seeing Momo so relaxed and happy, away from the pressures of work. If only you could go back in time, tell yourself everything you’d learn to like about her… Just to see your own face. It’d be worth the round-trip.

That smile she gave you, the look back at you as she guided you to her bed, was just one of many.

—

Your steps were light, carrying, hurrying you to meet her as you walked along the glass bay separating her office from the rest of the open space.

The sight of her in there made you smile. She was wearing a black suit, glasses perched on her nose, her name badge hanging around her neck. She looked focused, all serious and professional like she loved to present herself. Funny how that side of her made your heart race for entirely different reasons now.

It was one of those rare afternoons when you had some time to visit her at the headquarters. Usually in between your lunch and dinner shifts. The office was quiet, with only the soft hum of the air conditioning breaking the silence. You didn’t bother to knock, and Momo looked up from her work just as you entered, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"Hey, you," she greeted softly.

"Hey," you replied, closing the door behind you. "Busy day?"

"Always," she sighed, but there was no real complaint in her tone. She loved her work, and it showed.

You walked over to her, unable to resist the urge to touch her. Your fingers brushed against hers as you leaned on her desk, causing a shiver to run down her spine. She looked up at you through her glasses, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Two months, yet you still weren’t getting used to it.

"Got something for you," you grinned, reaching into you bag.

Momo's curiosity was piqued. "What is it?"

You pulled out a takeout box that she recognized from the kitchen and opened it, revealing a beautifully crafted marshmallow-based treat. It was a delicate arrangement of marshmallows squares, dipped in chocolate and adorned with tiny edible flowers. "Just a little something sweet to keep you going."

Her face lit up, a small gasp escaping her lips as if you didn’t bring her food multiple times a week. And yes, you also melted at her reaction like you didn’t witness it just as much. "These look amazing! Thank you." She took one and popped it into her mouth, her eyes closing in bliss as she savored the taste. "They're delicious."

You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I'm glad you like them."

Momo placed the container on her desk, right next to her monitor. "They'll be my little rewards. Thank you.”

You leaned in, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "You’re very much welcome."

Just as you were about to pull back, there was a knock on the door. It opened before either of you could say anything, and her assistant stepped in.

"Oh, sorry to interrupt," She said, clearly not expecting to find you there. Though she did question those expectations after realizing just how often she’d caught you hanging here.

Momo quickly composed herself, adjusting her glasses. "It's fine. What do you need?"

As her assistant explained the situation, you stepped back, giving her space to handle it. But you couldn't help but notice the subtle smile that played on her lips whenever she glanced your way.

The subtle gesture took you back to her scheming a couple weeks ago. She never put her plan in action. Not that you expected her to—you knew it was just fun and games. It didn’t keep people from talking though… With spring and summer coming up, her (non-secretive) visits to the kitchen were getting more frequent. Lots of actual business planning ahead of the most profitable season, done in broad daylight but behind the office closet door.

You could understand how it could be seen. Their speculations weren’t exactly baseless either; you weren’t strictly talking business in there... So as long as they remained gossip, the whispers didn’t bother you. But after Mingyu walked in on you a few days ago, you could tell this whole situation was starting to bother Momo.

The sound of the glass door closing pulled you out of your thoughts. Her assistant had finally left, and Momo turned back to you, her smile widening. "Where were we?"

You grinned, watching her pull on the string to close the blinds. The newfound privacy prompted you to lean in closer. "Right about here," you said, brushing your lips against hers.

Her kisses were still so hesitant. Soft, like she was stuck in your early days. When those lips of yours were all but a reminder, a blend of how sharp and hostile your words had been with her. As if she’d cut her own on the remnants of your journey up to this point.

Yet she’d steal yours often. More as time went on, being brave for the both of you. Allowing her doubts to grow into a blossoming connection, pulling you into a need, a craving for it she prayed wasn’t one sided.

She considered you a weakness. But as long as you consider her yours, she'll be fine with it.

The warmth of her breath mingled with yours, her taste a sweet blend of the marshmallow treat and something that was uniquely hers… She pulled away first, you gave her no choice.

Your breath was a little uneven, and she could see the same awe in your eyes that she felt in her heart. “I can’t believe I used to hate your guts,” she chuckled to herself.

“Wasn’t that long ago. Things could change again.” You joked, earning yourself a playful push.

“Let me go back to work.”

“But I’m here, it’s break time,” you pointed out, walking after her as she made her way back to her chair.

“That’s an entirely self-proclaimed thing. I never agreed to that.” She gave you a mock glare, but the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.

“Why not? You’re the boss.”

“I am. That’s why I need to finish this,” she said, settling back into her chair, her focus returning to the papers on her desk.

You dropped into the armchair across from her desk and sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

And so you did, you watched her as she worked, the way her fingers moved over the keyboard, the slight furrow of her brow when she concentrated. It was mesmerizing, seeing her in her element, so competent and strong.

Every once in a while, you couldn’t resist the urge to poke fun at her, tossing a paper ball you made out of boredom her way.

She sighed, picking it up and tossing it back at you without even looking up. “You’re such a child.”

You only shrugged, grabbing the ball from the ground, “Sure, but when are you gonna be done?”

She glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Soon.”

You sighed once more, and after a few more minutes of quiet, your mind drifted back to your earlier thoughts. About the whispers in the kitchen hallways.

Your eyes found Momo again, focused on whatever was on her monitor. She seemed preoccupied. This probably wasn’t the best time to bring it up, but it slipped your lips before you could even think to hold it back.

“You know, there’s rumors spreading back in the kitchen.”

Momo looked up from her report, all worries on her features fading to leave room for curiosity. “What kind of rumors?”

“You know, the kind that involves us,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “People are starting to notice how often you come by.”

She frowned slightly, considering your words. “I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. I never really did that before you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not just that,” you continued. “Some people are starting to think there’s more to it.”

Momo tensed up, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Right. Then let’s have our meetings in my office from now on.”

You raised an eyebrow. Kind of a drastic move, even coming from her. “Wouldn’t that be more suspicious if you stopped coming in all of a sudden?”

She sighed, clearly frustrated. “I just don’t want people talking.”

“Why are you so worried about it?” you asked, genuinely curious.

Her reaction was a little odd. Very different from the one she had at the restaurant, when you told her about Ryujin and Mingyu. You had a feeling she was serious about hiding from the kitchen, despite her passing off her worries as nothing more than jokes.

At first you thought it had to do with the industry. About the word going around fast or something along those lines. Thinking it had to do with her family, you agreed to her wishes. You thought it was a good thing too, and it would allow you to explore this whole thing in peace.

But if that was the case, you wouldn’t be visiting her office so often then, would you? The word would spread faster in corporate than in the kitchens.

It’s been a few weeks since you realized that, and her intentions were still as blurry. Her actions made little sense to you as days went by, but you knew best than to question them. You’d seen enough of that with the banquet.

But now, seeing her so visibly agitated… You didn’t like it. Her worries obviously ran deeper than just industry gossip. You could see the way her shoulders tensed, the worry etched into her expression. She wasn’t just concerned about the whispers

She was scared of them.

You took a deep breath, deciding to press gently. “Momo, is this really about the industry? Or something else? Because I can’t help if I don’t understand what’s really bothering you.”

Momo looked away, her fingers playing nervously with the edge of her blazer. “It’s not just the industry or my family,” she admitted softly. “It’s about you.”

“Me?”

She nodded, meeting your eyes again. “I don’t want them to think you only got the job because you’re sleeping with the boss. I don’t want anyone to undermine what you’ve achieved because of me.”

The weight of her words settled between you, heavy and uncomfortable. You hadn’t realized the extent of her concern, how much she was trying to shield you. Hell you hadn’t even realized she even was shielding you. “Momo, that’s—”

“I know it’s not true,” she interrupted, her voice trembling slightly. “But people can be cruel. They can twist things, make assumptions. They can act on those and… I just don’t want you to face that.”

You felt a pang of emotion at her vulnerability, at how much she was willing to protect you even at the cost of her own comfort. You reached out, taking her hand in yours. “Thank you for looking out for me. But we can’t live our lives based on what people might say or do. At this rate we’d have to hide forever.

“But what if they—”

“They won’t,” you interrupted gently. “And if they do, I’ll handle it. Don’t worry about me.”

Momo scoffed and rolled her eyes, a hint of the stubborn chef she was trying to hire just months ago resurfacing. She recognized that same defiance, that same determination. It was oddly reassuring.

“Besides,” you added, a mischievous glint in your eye, “even if they think all that, they would just sound stupid.”

Momo furrowed her eyebrows at your words. “What do you mean?”

“We never slept together,” you grinned.

Her confusion melted into amusement, and she cracked a smile despite the slight annoyance at your comment. “You’re right. I guess that’s one thing they can’t twist.”

You both shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing from the room. Momo’s grip on your hand tightened.

“You know,” you continued softly, “we can’t let them control how we live our lives. We’ve worked too hard to be where we are.”

She nodded, her eyes softening. “You’re right. It’s just… difficult sometimes.”

“I know,” you whispered, pulling her closer. “But we’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

Momo took a deep breath. “Alright then. Let’s be careful, but not scared.”

“Exactly,” you said, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “No more sneaking around.”

You couldn’t blame her for being cautious. The industry was as small of a world, as it could be vicious. You’ve seen it on your own account. She was right, but unrealistic. Hiding your relationship forever wasn’t an option. You had to find a balance, a way to be together without giving people the ammo to hurt you.

—

The next day, you maintained a professional demeanor when Momo came by the restaurant. She was all for letting the stolen glances and subtle touches free, but you could tell it cost her.

She kept catching Ryujin and Mingyu glancing over at the two of you. They were definitely betting on you, and it took everything in her not to scold them into focusing on their work.

It was a Friday afternoon, and the kitchen was bustling with activity in preparation for the evening shift. You’d usually be running that kitchen like the marines, but Momo had requisitioned you for the next hour. So you stood at an empty corner of a counter, papers spread out before you, discussing the finer points of the upcoming summer menus.

You’d noticed her glancing around every so often, visibly nervous about this new setting. So you decided to bring her focus back on you.

“I think you might need to yell at me or something soon.”

Momo furrowed her eyebrows at the sudden change of subject. “What? Why?”

“I don’t know, they’re looking at us weird. Whispers might spread,” you teased.

She wanted to whine so badly. She also hesitated to actually yell at you, but instead, she settled on playing into your dumb teasing and saved her annoyance for later. Maybe she could give you the silent treatment or make you walk to her place instead of picking you up. Right now there were more important matters.

“I mean, I could, but…” She trailed off, looking over a dish you’d sketched out. “Would it work?”

You shrugged, “Don’t know until you try.”

She paused and stared at you. “But I thought we didn’t care about people talking anymore. If you miss me yelling at you, just say that.”

You stayed silent and shrugged, fiddling with your fingers. Neither denying nor confirming the claims.

Her jaw dropped, and she couldn’t hold herself back on shoving you. She deemed it necessary.

“So it did turn you on, you freak.”

“I never said that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“I wouldn’t have to if your intentions were clear.”

“My only intentions here are to cook and make you the best in the business.”

“I already am.” She said, handing you a pen. “Sign here; it’s the menus for the first half of the summer. You reviewed them, right?”

You nodded, taking the small stack. You went through it one more time, and it picked at Momo’s patience. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure there’s no surprise marriage clause hidden somewhere.” You smirked, eyeing her reaction above the stack of paper. “You never know with you business families.”

“You wish. Just sign it,” she sighed, desperately trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“Wait, I just want to see something. There’s a dish I thought about last night. Might be able to take it up a notch.”

“How?”

You spiraled into an explanation, your words as animated as your hands. Momo listened intently, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she chimed in with her ideas.

“…and I think if we add a hint of yuzu, it’ll give it that perfect summer twist,” she suggested, her hands gesturing with that circle she always did. Regardless of what she was talking about, it was a circle. It made you smile.

You nodded, smiling at her passion. “Sounds good. I can try and get my contacts working at the market for some fresh ones.”

“But do you think it would pair well with the main courses?” Momo asked, her eyes focused on the menu.

You nodded, your attention equally split between the menu and the kitchen staff. “I think so. The flavors should complement each other nicely. But we should probably do a taste test first, just to be sure.”

Momo smiled, her eyes softening as she looked at you. “Do what you need to. I trust you.”

Time passed by, and the dinner shift approached. The staff around you visibly picked up the pace, and you had to get back to them soon so Momo gathered her things as she prepared to leave.

She let you walk her to the door separating the kitchen from the dining hall, your hand hovering over the small of her back. Your eyes lingered down on her as your conversation wrapped up on the hushed part of the business.

“Don’t forget to text me on the feedback from tonight’s service,” Momo said, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

“I will,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. “Drive safe, alright?”

Without thinking, Momo leaned in and planted a quick kiss on your cheek, a reflex she’d picked up from your mornings together. The gesture was so natural and familiar that she didn’t realize what she’d done until she pulled back and saw the stunned expressions around the kitchen.

The kitchen fell silent. Every pair of eyes turned to you both, and the sudden stillness was almost deafening. Momo’s eyes widened in realization as she pulled back, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

You were stunned too. Only you managed to keep your composure at least. You had to. Momo was already too far past the point of even trying to.

“Uhm, thanks,” you muttered, trying to play it off. You glanced around the kitchen, noting the shocked expressions on your staff’s faces.

Among them you noticed Ryujin and Mingyu, catching the triumphant look they exchanged.

Mingyu mouthed, “told you,” to Ryujin, who could barely contain her laughter.

Clearing your throat, you clapped your hands to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s get back to work. We have a service to run.”

The staff quickly resumed their tasks, though the air was thick with unspoken questions and barely contained amusement. You and Momo continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, but the blush on her cheeks and the subtle smirk on your lips told a different story.

As the kitchen buzzed back to life, Ryujin slid up to Mingyu, her voice low. “Guess you won the bet.”

Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it would happen like that. This is going to be interesting.”

[reignpage]

Modern au!FAQ

What is the EdenU au?

It is a modern alternative universe set in my fictional university called Eden University established in my fictional city, Eden City. The JJK men all play a part and are connected one way or another. They each have individual love stories playing out with girls who are part 'reader' part original characters. The stories are told both through smaus, fics and questions

If I'm starting out, where should I begin?

I recommend reading based on parts, starting with Toji's, but after that whoever you read next is up to you e.g. Toji pt1 -> Nanami pt1 -> Geto pt1 etc etc Ultimately, it actually doesn't matter so please feel free to read as you please, and there's not even any obligation to read all the other characters' stories Nanami's story might be a little confusing because his was the most developed before I decided to change my structure for story telling There's a guide attached to his parts, so please have a read of that, and if you have any more questions, I'm happy to explain

Who are the sisters?

Nanami's reader and Geto's reader One year apart They live together

How are you going to end the series?

There won't be a final ending, not in the traditional sense The official ending will come from all the jjk men becoming officially in a relationship with their readers But I have plans to sporadically update each story with snapshot smaus and fics of their established relationship stories Happy endings don't come from a label

Who is your favourite reader?

I don't have one I like them all for different reasons

Who is your favourite jjk man to write in this universe?

No one in particular Sukuna's, Nanami's, and Toji's maybe Mostly because they're my three favourite jjk men in general

Which reader do you relate to most?

Maybe Toji's reader We're both writers and not particularly outspoken or popular But we're not shy and we love gossip Though, I see a part of myself in every reader

What's your creative process like?

Creating the series, I picked a trope I wanted to explore using my understanding of the characters, and created the world/plot around that I have a rough idea of how I want things to go, but generally speaking, I go with the flow, allowing myself to change my mind and adjust the story so that it feels as natural and realistic as possible

Would you create a mood board for your visualisation of the readers?

Not likely I like that the appearances of the readers is left vague because then irl readers are not restricted in their imagination, and also their involvement I want irl readers to be able to picture who every they wish, whether that is someone else or themselves

What's your posting schedule?

I don't have one I post when I feel like it but I usually post at least once a day And as for who I post, I like to make sure every character gets a turn, so who I post next depends on who I haven't posted for in a while

Why do the readers never stand up for themselves?

The readers aren't complete pushovers They're supposed to be somewhat realistic; not all women are badass, don't take shit, punch them if they so much as look at you type of people Sometimes women have to bear with men's mistreatment because they have a larger goal in mind, but that isn't me promoting that behaviour, it's just storytelling

I hate _______'s reader

That's not a question but it's something I get often I understand people disagree with the personalities or behaviours of certain readers, and that's perfectly fine, sometimes it's intentional Perfect characters are boring and character development is precious People can feel and express those feelings however they please...to a certain extent For example, if you slutshame a certain reader, I'm inclined to block you because I think it's important to remember that, whilst this is fiction, some people actually relate to these characters and events, and name calling is harmful

How am I supposed to know these extra information if you delete your responses after a certain amount of time?

You could always ask You could turn on alerts for my blog You could visit my blog once or twice a day because I tend to delete around the 15 hours mark, in my head that's enough time for someone who's been sleeping to just take a peek at my blog Ultimately, this is something I'm quite fixed on because I post often so I don't want to clog up my page And if this is a problem, then I am not the right blog for you

Can I make a request for the next update?

I'd rather you didn't I'm not taking requests at all right now And I'd like to maintain complete creative freedom with my stories and people giving their two cents can bias my process

How are the series going to end?

The series are currently in the 'pre-relationship' stage. They'll end when the couples get coupled up i.e. get into a relationship BUT there will be sporadic posts for their 'during the relationship' stories These could be like special episodes of key moments in their life, as we have already seen with Nanami's part 0.5s where they take a break

Could I use your ideas?

No.

[justallihere]

opened my document of sitq scrapped scenes for reasons i've now forgotten, but there's a couple things there i really liked that never fit in what i published, and it's been a while since i've shared any of these, so here you go! these are all entirely unedited and cut off in weird places, so don't take it too seriously. enjoy!

a deleted scene between vi, ridoc, and sawyer from the planning stages of the journal heist (also, proof that the idea of malek and his consort was in my head for a long time before i ever wrote it):

“He’s fucking useless,” Violet muttered to herself, channeling her restless energy into straightening the papers and books on her desk until everything sat in neat piles. 

“No, he’s terrified of your husband carving him up into tiny pieces,” Ridoc corrected. 

“I still can’t believe you broke into your mom’s office without me,” Sawyer said for the third time. He’d been understandably upset when he found out about the late-night adventure he’d missed out on the week prior, but Violet hadn’t apologized. 

Neither had Ridoc, who’d quickly grown bored with Sawyer’s complaints. He scoffed. “You would rather knock out infantry and sneak into the admin building because Violet got that look on her face than go down on your girlfriend?” 

Sawyer blushed. “Okay, look—“

“No one’s blaming you,” Violet said, flipping open the front cover of The Unabridged History of the First Six. Jesinia had found her this morning to pass the book off after her unproductive conversation with Cam yesterday. She’d skimmed most of it already and hadn’t found anything particularly useful. “Jesinia gave a glowing review. Good for you.” 

Despite the color in his cheeks, Sawyer persisted. “I’m just saying, if you’re going to pull off a fucking heist, you could warn me. Or at least not wait almost a week to tell me.” 

“I’m just saying,” Ridoc retorted, “that if you want to be included then you could try celibacy like the rest of us.“ 

“You spent the night with that third-year from First Wing two nights ago,” Sawyer pointed out. “And Rhiannon and Tara aren’t quiet. Violet’s the only celibate person in this squad.” 

“Let’s not talk about my sex life,” Violet interrupted. 

“You don’t have one,” Ridoc said with a charming grin. “But when you do, I expect to hear all about it.” 

She glared and changed the subject back to their initial discussion. “We’ll try to make our breaking and entering schedules align better next time.” Because there would almost certainly be a next time. 

“That’s all I ask,” Sawyer said with a pointed look at Ridoc. 

The three of them were alone in Violet’s room. Rhiannon was in a leadership meeting, and Liam was taking a shower and likely to join them at any moment. Violet hid the book on the First Six beneath another history text and tucked them both into the bottom drawer of her desk. It was where she kept Brennan’s journal and The Fables of the Barren. With the conversation from this past weekend and Brennan’s request still fresh on her mind, she pulled out the Fables and set the book on her desk. 

“There’s nothing useful in the book Jesinia gave you, Vi?” Ridoc asked. 

“It’s a very abridged version to be unabridged,” she said dryly, flipping open the worn leather cover. “I don’t know what to try next. Jesinia says there isn’t much else in the Archives, about the Six or the wards in general. Nothing useful, at least—it’s all about expanding, not creating.” 

“It’d be nice if we had their journals,” he said. “Maybe that’s one of the things your dad was after.” 

The first several fables were about the gods—the very first one was about Malek and his consort, and Violet had always liked that one best. She ran her hands over the illustrations of the god of the dead and the shadowy figure at his side. “Whose journals?” she said absently. 

“Warrick and Lyra.” 

Violet paused, let the words settle, and finally turned slowly to look at Ridoc after a beat too long. “Warrick and Lyra,” she echoed dumbly. 

“Two of the First Six riders,” he confirmed. 

“I know who Warrick and Lyra are,” Violet said, too sharply. “Why do you think they have personal journals?” 

“Because they’re in the Archives.” Ridoc was staring at her like she’d lost her head. Sawyer looked between the two of them, openly curious. Violet’s jaw dropped open. “When we broke into your mom’s office last year for Squad Battle, she had a ledger that listed them as being stored in a sublevel vault. I flipped through it while you were stealing the map.” 

It was an effort to close her mouth. “We don’t have sublevel vaults.” But even as she said it, it felt wrong. Why wouldn’t they? Why wouldn’t the scribes store information in spaces even more secure than the general Archives, spaces that the average cadet or citizen had no idea about? 

History changes depending on who’s writing it, Cam had said. Did he know about the journals? Was that why he was here—looking for actual first-hand accounts of the history he seemed to be so interested in? 

Ridoc shrugged. “According to the paperwork in General Sorrengail’s office, we do,” was all he said. 

“Markham would have told me. My dad would have told me,” Violet whispered, pulling her desk chair out to sit down heavily. 

His expression slipped into something a bit more sympathetic. “You already know he was keeping secrets about his work before he died,” he reminded her gently. “I’m not saying he did it to hurt you, but it’s likely he was keeping a lot of things from you. If your mom knows, doesn’t it make sense that he would have known, too? He was the scribe, after all. He spent a lot of time in the Archives, didn’t he?” 

Violet only shook her head. Not in a real form of disagreement—she just didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want there to be even more secrets to uncover. 

“Maybe he didn’t know,” Sawyer offered gently. 

She shook her head again. “He probably did,” she said, and it hurt to admit, but it felt like the truth. She turned back to the book still open, the only piece of her father she had left. She flipped through the pages again, unseeing, and made herself shake off the crushing feeling of disappointment and hurt. “What are we missing?” she asked Sawyer and Ridoc. 

“Clearance,” Ridoc said dryly. 

She threw him a glare over her shoulder. “In terms of information.” 

“Clearance,” Sawyer said, and earned the same dark look. He held up his hands. “Look, Vi, I know you want to know everything, but whatever this is, we don’t have the rank to find out, and I don’t think this is something you can stubborn your way into if Riorson isn’t going to just tell you himself. How do you expect to get in a sublevel vault of the Archives? Your mom’s apartment where you grew up is one thing, but breaking into probably the most secure place in Basgiath that we didn’t even know existed five minutes ago? That’s extreme, even for you.” 

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, scrubbing her hands over her face. “If it’s something so bad that Navarre has hidden it or erased it from their history entirely—“ Then what? She didn’t know. She didn’t have a plan for that. But that was what Cam had implied inadvertently, and it seemed to be what they were doing with her father—erasing him and his work. What could he have possibly known that was so dangerous Navarre didn’t even want a reference to it existing after his death? 

“We might never figure it out,” Sawyer said. 

“No,” Violet said firmly. She didn’t believe that; she couldn’t.

“Even if it’s not written down, people know. We just have to find the right one to tell us the truth.” 

“If not Riorson, then who?” Ridoc asked. 

That was the part Violet was still deciding. Cam was the most obvious choice, and he seemed to want her to know whatever it was—unlike Xaden and Brennan and her mother, who were actively hiding things and not dropping so much as a cryptic hint. Liam was a possibility, but she was fairly certain his loyalty to Xaden and his desire to keep her safe would win out over any desire to tell Violet the truth. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. 

“Helpful,” Ridoc drawled. 

She rubbed her eyes again. “Xaden will be here tomorrow. Maybe I can—“ 

She cut herself off when a knock came on the door. Violet was closest, and when she opened it, Liam was waiting, damp-haired and holding a physics textbook. “Please help me,” he said, holding up a half finished assignment, and Violet waved him in. 

She nudged The Fables of the Barren out of the way as he took a seat at her desk, her perusal of it forgotten in favor of his homework.

***

a funny little moment between sloane and violet about dain:

“Enjoying the view?” 

Sloane jumped at Violet’s approach. “I’m not staring,” she said quickly. 

“What do you call it, then?” Violet asked, amused. 

“Watching for technique.” 

Violet laughed. Dain and Ridoc were sparring, both of them shirtless and sweaty. On the mat next to them, Rhiannon was working with Tessa, patiently walking her through several offensive moves. She was much better than she had been three months ago; she looked stronger, had better posture, moved more smoothly. 

“Which one are you watching?” Violet asked. 

“Both,” said Sloane imperiously, lifting her chin. 

“Well, they’re both trouble, so good luck.” 

“I thought Aetos was all straight-laced.” Sloane rolled her eyes. “That’s what Liam says, at least. Told me to avoid him.” 

“Dain has a strict sense of morals,” Violet said carefully. “But he’s a good man, or he wouldn’t be here.” 

Sloane turned a critical eye her way. “Were you two ever. . .” 

“No,” Violet said. Sloane raised an eyebrow, and Violet smiled indulgently. “He kissed me once. It was nothing.” 

Sloane’s mouth dropped open. “You’re lying,” she hissed. 

“I am not.” 

“Does Xaden know?” she whispered, like it was some sort of dirty secret. 

“I’m sure he’s guessed.” 

***

and finally, an alternate take on xaden and violet's first kiss, taking place at athebyne immediately after xaden woke up from his injuries during the fight:

“Violet—“

She lurched forward, cutting off whatever else he might be about to say by covering his mouth with her own. He caught her, his hands bracketing her waist, but he was otherwise still beneath her touch. She waited, pressing closer, and finally he responded, his mouth slackening as he parted his lips to kiss her back. 

“Violet.” It was a groan this time, and he pulled her closer, hungry, urgent, impatient. Wanting. She kissed him again, again, tasting blood on his tongue. He lifted a hand to cup her face, his thumb pressing into her chin beneath her lower lip, and he drew back. “Violet.” Now it was cautious. 

“Xaden.” She waited for the rest of the sentence. 

“You never answered my question earlier.” He paused, and the silence stretched for a beat too long. 

She brushed their lips together again. “You technically never asked me a question,” she pointed out. “But in case it wasn’t clear, this is my answer.” 

“I want you to say it,” Xaden whispered.

Violet tipped forward until their foreheads touched, and she stayed there for a moment, sharing air. “I love you.” 

He swore, low like he couldn’t quite believe it, and kissed her like he’d never get to do it again. His hands tightened on her, one hand sliding from her waist to her hip, the other tilting her face so he could kiss her deeper, nipping at her lower lip. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but she felt the sensation all over her body. She wound her hands into his hair and shuffled closer. His hands slid down from her hips, gripping her ass to pull her body flush against his. He broke the kiss, tugging her lip between his teeth as he drew back. “Say it again,” he ordered in a rough voice, and she shuddered. 

“I love you.” She found his mouth again, unsure how to be separate from him now that they’d started this. Between gasps for air, she murmured, “I love you. Tell me you love me.” 

He groaned. “I love you.” He gripped her thigh, pulling her knee up and over so it was braced on the bed against his hip, straddling his thighs. “More than anything.” She pushed forward until Xaden leaned back against the bed and she was half-kneeling above him, still trying to memorize the taste of him. “More than everything.” 

She licked into his mouth, shivering when he dug his fingers hard into her skin and pulled her up higher so she sat atop his stomach to reach his mouth easier. Her hands roamed, sliding from his hair, down across his neck and shoulders and broad chest. She reached the hem of his shirt and was sliding her hands beneath the material to touch his bare skin when the door opened. 

Violet jerked back, startled, but Xaden only followed her, levering himself upright to try to kiss her again—until he looked over her shoulder and glowered. 

“Go the fuck away,” he ordered, wrapping both arms around her waist to pull her close, like whoever had entered might try to steal her away from him. He kissed the curve of her jaw, and Violet tried again to squirm away, but he held her too tightly. 

The person at the door made a low sound of disgust. “I wanted to check on you, but I see you’re doing fine,” Brennan said. 

Violet jolted again. It would have been bad enough if it was Bodhi or Garrick, but for her big brother to see her plastered against Xaden like this—she’d never hear the end of it. 

Xaden didn’t seem to agree, or to care. “You’re going to see a lot more that you don’t want to see if you don’t leave now.” 

“Xaden,” Violet hissed. 

He only tipped her chin up and brushed his lips over hers. “You tell him to go away,” he murmured. 

“Brennan,” Violet said firmly. “Leave.” 

[ressjeon]

endearing | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: you're just worried when your loud housemate suddenly goes quiet after serenading you for hours

rating: pg13 | word count: 1.3k

genre/au: housemates!au, romance?, fluff (lmao who's this), they're just fRiEnDs 🤭

warnings/content: just alcohol consumption, they're sweet ig 🥰

a/n: yk i’m supposed to be on break (literally on midterm season) but here we are. also i haven’t written a purely SFW drabble for a very long time so please bear with me i just love him sm. huge thank you to my phone's voice feature lol, i'd never finished this in a few hours with how slow i usually am.

companion song: more than friends by becky g 💖

You’re scrolling through your phone when you notice that the whole house has suddenly turned quiet.

You couldn’t be that you’re fixated on your phone that you didn’t notice your housemate has ended his karaoke session because you swear the living room was still loud just a few minutes ago. Jungkook, one of your housemates, has been singing his heart out since past 1 AM today. Not that you mind it really, because you’re a night owl, just like him. You love it when he does his live streams because he usually does karaoke sessions in each of them no matter what he was doing at first.

Jungkook’s one of the popular students on your campus and has a huge following on his IG account, which he uses mainly for everything, no matter how random they are. He deletes his pictures often though when he feels like changing his feed. You’re hoping that he just archived them because he’s quite talented at photography. However, he does frequent lives on IG in return since people tune in when he goes live anyway, filled with comments from either his group of friends or his admirers.

It’s been a while since you heard Jungkook singing. He has a very beautiful voice that even though he doesn’t remember the lyrics for most of the songs that he sang, he still sounded so good to anyone who’s listening. Your other housemates are still not back from their reading week vacation, giving Jungkook the only time when he could be as loud as he can in the house without disturbing anybody. He’s aware that you stay up like him and listen to him when he’s singing, relieved that out of your housemates, it’s you who remained with him. Both of you are the only ones who didn’t go anywhere because of your packed schedules.

Tonight, as diverse as his playlist is, you still feel like he’s serenading you with most of his song choices. Those songs are on your playlist too, which he knew since you’ve shared each other’s links before. So now you’re going to let yourself be deluded, humming along to the songs while you’re getting your tasks done. When the music stopped, you thought he was just taking breaks, so you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook usually creates small noises after he’s done, cleaning up the living room and kitchen before going back to his room.

But it’s suddenly quiet. Did he fall asleep already? Should you check, but then why would you? Jungkook sleeps anywhere at any time unlike you, but you’ve always been paranoid. The lazy part of you wants to close your eyes and fall asleep already, but the other part wants to go down and check. It’s just normal right just in case? Besides, it’s also part of your responsibility as a housemate.

It’s the least you could do for Jungkook because he took care of you many times when you come home drunk from house parties at 5 AM. He even took as much as helping you by being there while you let everything out, offering you a glass of water and making sure you remove your makeup before tucking you into your bed after. He cooks you noodle soup in the morning too in case you get hangovers, which you thankfully don't but your heart somersaults every time with how thoughtful he is.

So despite how comfy your bed is right now, you forced yourself to get up and pushed away your comforter before going down to the living room to check.

And your guts were right because you see Jungkook sleeping soundly on his stomach by the couch with a lighted-scented candle on the table in front of him. The light from the candle allows you to see his handsome face clearly, with flushed cheeks and slightly puckered lips as he sleeps in his arms. He looks adorable, wearing a black crewneck in sweater paws, obscuring his colourful sleeve from your eyes. His cute snores crack a small smile on your face as you approach his sleeping figure, carefully taking the remote from his hands. Sure, he’s a deep sleeper, but you didn’t want to wake him up because it’s already 4 AM and you’re a bit sleepy too.

You then turn off the TV and unplugged the mood lamp that he designed for one of his classes. It’s so pretty, and he brings it out in the living room once in a while, especially when he’s doing his live streams. You also just noticed the half-filled beer mug on the table, taking it with you to the kitchen where you’ve put it back on the ref before deciding to look for spare blankets for him. You couldn’t find any though, so you just opted for his room, which is surprisingly wide open.

Jungkook stays in the room on the first floor, so he frequents the living room when he’s not gaming or doing schoolwork. Entering his room, you grabbed his blanket at once, fighting the urge to nuzzle it, given how good Jungkook usually smells when you hug him. You went back to the living room and put the blanket over him, pushing away a strand of his hair from his closed eyes before tucking it behind his ears. His hair had gotten longer and curly, so fluffy too that you’d been expressing how you love this look on him. Jungkook smiles when you do, letting you ruffle his hair more.

He stirs a bit, causing you to go rigid and worried that you woke him up. You don’t move until you were sure that he’s fully sleeping. And though he might not hear it, you still wish him a quiet good night before eyeing the candle. You love the smell of it but for safety reasons, you blow out and retreat upstairs to your room.

.

The footsteps padding in the hallway woke you up from your deep slumber, being the sensitive sleeper you are. You’re wondering how Jungkook’s awake at this hour and why he’s up here, reluctantly rising from your bed before opening the door. There you watch him scurrying back to the stairs wrapped in his blankets looking like a deer caught in the headlights when he hears you.

“Jungkook? why are you awake? do you need something? it’s still early” you asked him sleepily while rubbing your eyes.

“um, i woke up and i-uh” he couldn’t look you in the eye, the nervousness evident in his voice. “you can’t sleep?” you yawn, yearning to go back to your comfy bed but you just wanna talk to him more. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “i just wanna say thank you for earlier and uh-sorry for waking you up” he grins apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.

“oh Kook, that’s nothing compared to what you’ve done more for me” you smile at him, truly grateful for his existence in your life. Hold, you’re sleep deprived to be having these thoughts right now but Jungkook just looks so endearing in your eyes despite how sleepy you still are. 

Damn, you really should sleep more.

He’s oddly looking at you fondly so you mimic him, both of you waiting who will back down first. Jungkook looks like he wants to say something more, tongue poking around his lip ring with that doe eyes of his. You smile at him, urging him to continue. He’s back to being shy around you these days for some reason but you don’t wanna pry, just want him to be comfortable as much as possible. 

“i’m still sleepy so i’m going back to my room” you can see him retracting so you approach him, a knowing smile already plastered on your face. “do you wanna cuddle? i think we’ll fit in my bed” his nervous eyes were replaced with excitement, following you to your room.

You didn’t even get to lie down on your bed properly when he tackles you, spurring a hearty giggle out of you with him matching you. “what?” he hugs you right away, mumbling something against your skin as he snuggles his head on the crook of your neck. Your hands automatically card through his luscious hair until you hear his breathing slow down, and his cute snores occurring once again. 

Guess you’ll never know what all these are for until he wakes.

e/n: i'm testing many things from this so hope it's wholesome enough lmao (i tried). have a lovely week everyone!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Take Shelter 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, stalking, possessiveness and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You keep to yourself, until you can’t anymore. (another short reader because why not)

Character: Thor Odinson

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all the way to Asgard. Take care. 💖

You wake in your bed.

It’s the singular reality you can perceive. The morning beams outside your window as the dampness of the evening due invades the space. You shiver as you turn your head side to side, taking in the room. Everything is just as it should be. It is only the window that’s open when it should be closed.

You shudder as the last memories of consciousness flood your mind. The crashing storm, the swirling winds, the darkness that consumed you and the room. Then it was all gone and you woke up as you are now.

What day is it? That’s harder to bring to mind. It’s like your brain is foggy. The world around you feels like a facsimile. You push yourself up with effort and the blanket falls away from your shoulders.

You nearly scream as you find yourself wearing the dress. The white fabric flutters around your shoulders and fits your figure perfectly. It’s soft and comfy but you don’t belong in it. It isn’t truly yours.

You scramble across the bed but as you stand, your vision turns patchy and you stumble. You land on your knees, cradling your head as you gulp in air. You stood too fast. Just a bit of head rush.

You catch your breath and rein in your tilting vision. You put one foot down then the other and rise again. You strain to unzip the dress and shimmy it off, uncertain what to do with it other than drap it over the foot of the bed.

You leave it there and go into the bathroom. You crank on the sink and bend to rinse your face, the cobwebs clinging in your mind. You peek at your reflection and nearly cry out.

You blink at the sight of your chest. The ripples of lightening emblazoned just below your collar bones in contrast to your skin tone. You gape at the inexplicable marking and grip the edge of the sink.

Are you still dreaming?

No, there's that heaviness that assures you that you are firmly implanted on reality.

You shakily raise your hand to touch the marking. It doesn't hurt. If anything, it's numb.

What happened to you? You push yourself away from the counter and groan, rubbing your temples as you try to understand. Nothing makes sense.

You drop your hands and warily return to the bedroom. You go to close the window and stop. The coin, that cursed piece of gold, sits on the sill. You shut the window, refusing to touch the mysterious artifact.

You hesitate before you emerge from the bedroom. You creep forward on the side of your feet, trying to muffle the noise of your advance. Empty. Nothing. Not a single trace of an intruder.

Are you going crazy? What is going on? Are you blacking out and dressing up and stealing the little trinkets that keep appearing?

You retrieve your phone from the living room and find a notification waiting for you. You assume it's Eli reminding you of a schedule change but instead find an unidentified number. You tap the notification, ready to delete another scammer.

Oh. It's Peter. You texted him just before you left work to make sure he had your number too.

‘Hey, just checking in. No pressure. Our first session is this weekend. Can email character sheets ahead if it's easier.’

You don't answer and black out the phone. You have to work. You need to focus on that. Anything to distract you from the strange things all around you.

Maybe then it might be good to escape into fantasy…

You check the time and fall into your usual routine. You clean yourself up and pull on your jeans and the branded store polo. As you try to forget the night you can't even remember, every second is wrought in its echoes.

⚡️

Work is dull. Just as ever. Eli calls to let you know he's sick. You're disappointed but ask him if he's okay. He says it's just a cough that came on with the rain.

You're the only defense. You greet each customer as they come in and do your best to help them. You stand behind the counter as if it's a shield. Your very own fortress.

There isn't any rush to deal with, just the ebb and flow or mostly curious shoppers, just browsing. You keep your vigil at the counter, elbows planted as you stare at Peter's message. You feel bad leaving him on read.

You need to make up your mind. You suppose you only have to commit to one session. If there's already a character created, he could easily replace you. Heck, you could get Eli to step in as a sub. He'd be perfect.

‘Hi Peter. Thank you for the invite. I'll do it. Srry for late response.’

You blow out a breath nervously. Commitment always feels suffocating. You're not very social and you find the dramatics of some players can be overwhelming. You appreciate their enthusiasm but it can be a bit much.

You peer around lazily, a few passerbys glancing in but nothing else. Your phone buzzes softly and Peter responds.

'Great. You're a life saver. I can send the links to the character sheet here or if you have an email I'll add you to the cloud.'

'Link is fine', you reply.

Right, this is going to be... you don't know. You're not quite sure why you said yes. Maybe it's that latent feeling that everything is just passing you by. Or maybe you're scared and it's easier to be around other people. You never thought you would think that.

A sudden zing flows through your chest and you drop your phone. You touch the top of your shirt and hiss. As you look down, you remember the stranger mark on your body. Wait... maybe you were struck by lightning? But why would there be no marks in your room or on the furniture? You don't think the window would still be intact if you that were the case.

Before you can sink too far into dread, a customer struts through the door. You blink as you recognise him. He was just there yesterday. Theo... no, Thor. You keep forgetting.

"Ah, lady, it is only you," he booms as he enters, quaking you with his timbre.

You nod with a sheepish smile. You search around him for Peter. He's alone. So are you. You gulp.

"I was only in the area and... well, I went to the coffee vendor and they made me the wrong drink," he holds up the cup in his hand, "are you interested in lavendar latte? Unfortunately, I've had some bad experiences with the plant."

"Oh," you eye the tall cup. "That's... I can't--"

"Are you allergic? I've heard you midgardians suffer those afflictions. I saw a man nearly die from eating a nut."

You furrow your brow as another sear ripples over your chest. The marks hadn't hurt at all before but now they are on fire. You clutch your hands together and swallow the tension.

"No, I'm not, but that's... too nice."

"Well, not really," he tilts his head as he comes closer, "you see, I can't enjoy it myself. It's hardly a gallant gesture, is it?"

"I suppose," you squeeze your hands tighter. Your vision clouds at the edges and you get the rolling sensation in your skull as if you might pass out. You haven't eaten, it's your own fault. You poke your tongue behind your lip and look him in the face. You don't want to be rude. "Thanks, I guess... I'll take it. Thank you."

"Not at all," he smiles wider and puts the cup before you. "So, lady, have you decided yet? Are you to join us for our quest?"

"Erm, uh," you look down at your phone, "yeah, actually, I just confirmed with Peter."

"That is wonderful!" He claps his hands and you flinch as the noise is like thunder.

"Yeah," you eke out, wobbling as you keep your folded hands against the counter.

"I hear it is a very fun game," he continues on as your head pulses. "Lady, will you not try the drink?"

"Oh?" You're jarred by his redirect and shake your head with a flutter of lashes, "sure."

You reach for the cup and drag it closer. You lean heavily on the counter as you move with frailty. You pop off the lid and find steamed foam marked with purple petals. You inhale the sent as you lift the cup weakly and take a slurp. It's sweet and fragrant.

"Mmm, it's good," you put the cup down a bit heavier than you intend and wipe the bow of your lip.

"Lady are you unwell?" Thor asks.

Your ears rings and your vision narrows on him. He doesn't look like he did before. He doesn't wear the faded denim jacket or grey tee shirt. He is adorn in scarlet and gold and his hair is loose and flowing around thick braid. You blink and he is as he was before. You don't think you're okay.

"I think..." your words slur and you feel yourself tipping backwards as your eyes roll back.

The world is black before you can feel the impact of the floor. You plunge into bleary depths, no sound, no sight. Nothing.

You come too with a start, eyes snapping open as you gasp. Your lashes stick together as you blink and look up at the strands of Thor's golden beard. He sits on the floor as he pillow you in his lap, both of you cramped in the space behind the counter.

"What..." you croak as you bend your arm awkwardly to brush your cheek.

"You are alright, little one," Thor assures you as he pets your head, "only a little affect, I think."

You grumble and try to sit up. He helps you with a hand on your back. You're entirely disoriented by the shift and nearly fall back against him.

"Please lady, you must be cautious," he turns you to lean against the wall. He raises himself on one knee and pulls off his denim jacket, draping it over you and tugging it down between your back and the wall. "Here," he reaches for the drink still on the counter, "drink this. You'll feel better."

"I... I'm sorry, I'm okay, you don't have to--"

"It is what a king does," he insists and rubs your shoulder.

"Excuse me," a nasally voice calls from the other side of the counter, "is there anyone here?"

Thor springs up to his feat easily, agile for a man his size. He spins to face the customer. "Ah, yes, hello, and what are we shopping for today, good sir?"

"I need Warhammer Ultramarines," the unseen man demands. You can assume what he looks like, you're certain you've seen him before.

"Hm, ah, yes, I'm not..."

"Hold up," the customer says, "are you-- are you-- the God of Thunder?"

"Some call me that," Thor chuckles.

"This is so awesome! Can I get a picture?"

"Yes, you may," Thor accepts and leans over the counter.

You sit dumbly on the floor. The very thought of standing makes your head pulse. You look down at the latte and cradle it close, taking a gentle sip. It warms you but only worsens the emptiness in your stomach. You can't help but shiver at the thought of what could have happened if Thor wasn't here…

[bupia]

Would very much like to see 2 and 31 of the smut prompts with Cardinal Copia - I would love to know what direction you take with it!

EROTIC PHOTOS

“I’ve never done this before…” - “Well, neither have I.” “I’m worried I won’t be good enough.”

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

(AFAB!reader: dirty talk; masturbation; mentions of masturbation)

It wasn't my intention to make a whole story, but I hope you all enjoy it.

Available on AO3

Day 10 | Day 12

You found yourself in a state of profound boredom. Wednesday was in full swing, but everyone around you was engrossed in their own duties, leaving you with nothing to occupy your time. It wasn't that you couldn't find something to do, but rather that you were consumed by a deep longing for him, Cardinal Copia.

The absence of Cardinal Copia at the ministry was disconcerting. It was a challenge not to see him wandering about or hear him call your name. Ever since he took the helm of Ghost, he had become increasingly hard to spend time with. There were moments when you'd call or text him, and you'd spend a few precious hours together until he drifted off to sleep. Poor Cardinal worked tirelessly, but there was little you could do to change that.

Today, however, your yearning for him was particularly strong. You craved him - his scent, his touch, his voice. Your situation with Cardinal Copia was unique. You'd decided to date, but before you could really embark on that relationship, a tour had emerged and created a chasm between you. So, in a way, you had him, yet you didn't. You could have had him, but the demands of the tour had created distance.

You longed to reach out to him, to send a message, to express how deeply you missed him, or just to say a simple "hi" perhaps, or send a silly joke that would make him laugh. But that wasn't what you desired from him today. As mentioned before, you wanted him, all of him.

You picked up your phone to check the time and, after a bit of mental math, you figured out what time it was where he was. It was likely getting close to his stage performance, but waiting until the show ended seemed unbearable. It might not have been the most tactful move, but you felt compelled to do it. You were already planning to take a shower and needed to get undressed, so it wasn't too much of a stretch.

So, you went ahead and did it. You took a few pictures, maybe two or three, and sent them to him. Perhaps he'd see them and understand how much you yearned for him, or maybe he'd be a bit annoyed at your attempt to tempt him before the show. Either way, it felt like a win-win situation.

You left your phone on the bedroom and headed into the bathroom for a relaxing, warm shower, hoping it would help quell your desires. However, your mind remained preoccupied with the thought of how he would react to the pictures you had sent. The bath, which was intended to be a way to unwind, became one of the quickest showers you'd ever taken. You were eager to see if he had replied and to find out what he thought.

After finishing your shower, you wrapped a towel around your body and returned to the bedroom, your anticipation growing by the second. You reached for your phone, only to be met with disappointment. There was no reply, no message, nothing. The initial shock of receiving no response was quickly replaced by embarrassment and regret. You shouldn't have sent those photos, especially considering the timing. Of course, he probably didn't have a moment to open them amidst his busy schedule.

As you contemplated deleting the pictures before he had a chance to see them, you noticed three dots appearing in the corner of the screen, indicating that he was typing a message. You watched them, and then they disappeared. A sigh of relief escaped your lips, but the anticipation returned when the dots reappeared. The ebb and flow of those three dots had you on edge.

And then, a message finally popped up.

"Amore, what are those?"

You read his message and felt a surge of nervousness. The uncertainty of his response had you second-guessing yourself. Did he not like the pictures? Had you made a mistake? These thoughts raced through your mind as you read his message. Summoning your courage, you decided to respond to his message. You knew you needed to say something, perhaps even offer an apology. So, you typed out your response.

"Sorry."

"What?" "Why are you apologizing?"

"I shouldn't have send the pictures..."

"What do you mean you shouldn't have sent them?"

"It was irresponsible."

"I agree."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you read his response, and you couldn't help but feel like you had indeed ruined everything. It was a moment of self-critique and regret.

"It was very irresponsible to make me hard before the ritual."

You read his message and your eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, thanks Satan" you thought. You read his message again just to be sure you weren't imagining things, and it was real. He had indeed said it, and you were relieved that you hadn't ruined everything as you had feared.

"Amore? Are you still there?"

The sudden vibration of your phone nearly made you drop it. It was clear you needed to respond, so you quickly typed out a message, not wanting to leave him hanging.

"Yes!!!" "I'm here!!!"

"Ok" "Good" "I thought I made you uncomfortable with my last message."

"What???? Not at all" "Actually, tell me more..."

A mischievous grin crept across your face as you lay down on the bed, pressing your legs together. The sensation of the cold from your still-wet body was soon to be replaced with warmth.

"More?" "What do you want to know?"

"Maybe you can tell me how hard your 🍆 is."

"My eggplant?"

"You don't know what it means?"

"I don't, amore" "I'm sorry."

"Eggplant means dick!!"

You saw the three dots reappearing, teasing you with their presence. As you rolled on the bed and settled on your stomach, a giggle escaped your lips. The anticipation and playfulness in the conversation were starting to lighten the mood.

"Maybe we can try use only words?" "I'm sorry, amore, I'm not used to this modern language."

Your laughter filled the room as you found his adorableness and occasional dorkiness endearing. It was difficult not to be amused and charmed by his quirks.

"Of course we can."

"Thank you"

"So..." "How hard your dick is, Cardinal?"

You were well aware of how much he enjoyed being addressed as "Cardinal." You imagined he might be feeling a delightful shiver down his spine at that moment, although you were equally sure he was probably cursing you in Italian, albeit playfully.

"You left my dick pretty hard."

"Yeah?" "Do I deserve to see it?"

"You do." "But, how do I do it?" "I'm worried I won't be good enough" "I've never done it before."

"Well, neither do I..." "But you got some pics of me" "You just need to take a pic and send it to me, ok?"

"Ok."

"So let me see how hard you are right now."

"I wish I could show you in reality."

"I know you are going to show it to me soon..." "Right?"

You settled comfortably on the bed, resting your head on the pillow as you awaited his response. Minutes ticked by with no sign of a reply. Just as you began to wonder if he was occupied with something else, the familiar three dots appeared on the screen, signaling that he was typing. The anticipation built once more.

"Amore?"

"Yes?"

"Can I send it?"

"Please."

You received his message, which included two identical, blurry pictures. The images were impossible to make out, but you could discern the red color of his cassock. Despite the lack of clarity, you couldn't help but laugh at the adorableness of the situation.

"Did it work?"

"No!!!" "I can't see a thing!!!"

"Is it that bad? Sorry, amore, I heard a noise and took it fast." "Wait."

As you continued to laugh and shake your head, you turned onto your side, gazing at the blurry pictures he had sent. Then, when you least expected it, a clear image popped up. This time, it wasn't blurry at all. It was a crisp picture of him holding his member in his hand. Your eyes widened in surprise at how big and thick it was. You could feel a heat building between your legs, you definitely needed him.

"Did you get it, amore?"

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the image. His member looked absolutely perfect. You rolled over once more, settling on your back as you continued to gaze at the image.

"Fuck" "I need you"

"Do you?"

"Yes" "Now"

"Amore..." "I wish I could be there now..." "I would be worshiping all your body." "Just like you deserve to be worshiped" "You naked body is perfect." "I need to touch you."

"I need you to touch me."

"I want to touch you."

"Yeah?" "Where do you want to touch me?"

"This is not fair." "You know I will be going on stage soon."

"We can stop if you want..."

"I don't."

Your hand reached for your towel, leaving it open on your body. You slowly spread your legs, going with your hand to between them. Your fingers began to rub your flesh, spreading them apart. You moaned softly as you felt your moisture begin to flow out of you, coating your hand.

"So tell me"

"I want to touch your body" "While I kiss it" "Every inch of it" "I want to make you feel loved" "Wanted" "Desired"

"Yeah?" "What more?"

"I will kiss your lips" "Your neck" "Your chest" "Your belly..." "Please, amore, let me see you again."

Of course, he could see you again. You tapped the camera icon, prepared to take another photo for him. But then it occurred to you that you could do better and decided to record a video of yourself instead. So you did. You removed your hand from between your legs and started to record it. You went with your hand slowly from your belly to your inner thighs, caressing it until you reach your mound. You went down with your hand going with it to between your legs. You gasped as you felt how wet you were and how easily your fingers slid between your folds.

You halted the recording and sent it to him, your heart racing as you patiently awaited his reply. Seeing the "received" status, you couldn't help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. After a few seconds, the familiar three dots appeared once more, and you couldn't help but smile in excitement, eager to see his response.

"Amore."

"Yes?"

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Maybe..."

"So do it" "Because I am" "I really need to fuck you right now"

As you read his message, a shiver ran down your spine, and an involuntary, soft gasp escaped your lips. The anticipation and desire were palpable.

"Say it again" "Please"

"I need to fuck you right now" "I need to feel you on my cock"

"I need you inside me, Copia" "I need you to fuck me" "Until I can't take it anymore" "But in reality" "I will never get enough"

"Fuck, amore" "What a sinful mouth you have" "It would look so beautiful here"

Another message popped up in the chat, this time containing a video of him. For someone who didn't know what to do some minutes ago, he was learning very fast.

You played the video and you could hear his low moans. He was lazily stroking his length on his gloved hand, and you could see a glistening on the leather. You continued rubbing yourself, feeling the softness of your folds. You looked down at your hand, seeing how wet it was. You brought your finger up to your mouth and sucked on it, imagining that he would do the same with you.

"Not fair!!"

"You didn't like it?"

"I loved it" "But is not fair to make me want you even more"

"I really want to be on your bed right now" "So I could taste you" "And fuck you until I make you scream my title."

"I'm very wet right now..." "Copia" "I need you so much" "I need to feel you inside of me."

"Do you, amore?" "Fuck" "You are driving me insane here" "I feel like I could cum only by reading your messages."

"Do you?"

"Yes" "Very much."

"So do it" "Cum for me"

"Will you cum for me too, amore?"

"Always."

You were in state of euphoria now, your whole being focused on your fingers. You moved one to your clit, rubbing it gently. The sensation made your hips buck slightly, and you let out another soft moan.

"Tell me what you are doing, amore."

"I'm just rubbing it."

"Fuck" "I wish I was the one doing it."

"You'll do it as you got back to the ministry."

"Yes" "And so much more..."

You could feel yourself getting more and more turned on. You could feel the heat building inside of you.

"Yeah? Tell me" "Please."

"I'm going to fuck you so good, amore" "Yes, so fucking good." "Fuck" "I need to feel your pussy on my 🍆"

Seeing the emoji, you couldn't help but burst into laughter. He was indeed an adorable dork, and he was all yours.

"Did I use it right, amore?"

"Perfectly."

"Good." "Because that's what I want now" "I want you to fuck yourself" "And think about my cock" "Inside you" "Fucking you" "So very good"

As you read his message, you started to rub faster, harder. You could hear your breathing getting heavier. You closed your eyes and pictured him, his hands on your body, his length buried within you. You opened your eyes, throwing your head back, moaning loudly. You turned your eyes to your phone, seeing new messages of him.

"Please, amore" "Let me fuck you" "Let me fuck you until you scream my name" "I need to fuck you so much" "Fuck this show" "I wish I could go to your bedroom right now" "And fuck you the whole night"

You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the moment. Your fingers covered in your juice. You lowered your hand to your entrance, sliding one finger into you. You moaned again, this time louder. You hips bucked slightly as you slit it in. You pulled out, then back in. You repeated this several times, each time going a little deeper.

"Yes" "Cardinal" "I'm doing it"

"Very good." "Don't stop" "Only when you cum for me"

You started to move faster, pushing your fingers in and out of your entrance. Your breathing became ragged as you let the sensations wash over you. Your hips were moving up and down, matching your thrusts. Feeling your orgasm starting to build, you quickened your pace. You took your phone, opening the camera and started to record it. Your walls were tightening around your fingers, pushing them deeper, feeling your walls squeezing them.

"Ah! Cardinal!" you moaned in pleasure. "Fuck me, just like that, please don't stop, make me cum on your cock!" you screamed out, feeling waves of pleasure roll through you. "Yes, just like that, just like tha-Ah!" you kept moving your fingers in and out of you, trying to prolong the feeling. "I'm going to cum, Copia, I'm going to... I... I..." your hips bucked wildly as you came, your body shuddering as you did.

You stopped the record, sending him the video. You kept your fingers buried inside you as your orgasm subsided, then pulled them out. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Then you felt your phone vibrating on your hand and you looked at it, seeing Copia's message.

"Fuck amore" "I need to hear you moaning my name when I get back to the ministry" "I want to make you cum on my cock just like that" "And even more" "So much more" "Fuck"

"Did you cum, Copia?"

"Not yet, amore."

"So cum for me, Copia" "Please" "Feel my pussy tightening around your big cock" "And cum inside of me" "Fill me with your seed" "Make me yours"

After sending your last message, you reached for your towel to clean your hands, realizing that you might need another bath before going to sleep. A few minutes passed, and Cardinal Copia had yet to send a reply. You settled on the bed, sitting up with your back against the headboard, your gaze fixed on your cellphone. Then, another photo arrived. This time, him holding his length on his hand full of his seed on his glove and on the tip of his member.

"Look what you did to me." "A mess, amore." "You did a mess."

"I'd gladly clean that mess for you."

"Amore, no more tempting." "I'll be on stage in ten."

"Wish you could come to the ministry in 10"

"I wish I could go to you too." "But don't worry." "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes" "How about you?"

"So much, amore." "But I need you more than I needed before." "Maybe I'll use your video at the hotel after the show."

"Why don't you call me? So we can play together."

"Are you sure? It will be late for you."

"So wake me up telling me how much you want me."

"I want you every hour of my day." "I think about you all the time."

"So call me just as you got to the hotel, maybe I can teach you how to do video calls."

"That sounds interesting." "Ok, amore" "I need to clean up and go." "Please wait for me." "I love you, Ti amo."

"Do your best there." "I love you, Copia."

[greg-montgomery]

Your love is in trouble

pic by: @masterwords

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: You agreed to go on a date for the first time after breaking up with your boyfriend, Aaron - it’s not going well.

based on this post <3

Warnings: angst ❤️‍🔥 lmfaoo

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hitting the shuffle button after picking a playlist to keep you company while getting ready turned out to be a huge mistake. You can never know if your and your ex’s song might randomly play, making you cry - just an hour before your first date with another man.

First date: first in every sense of the word. Your first date with this Ryan guy, your first date after him. Him, Aaron Hotchner, your Aaron, the man you had been trying for months now to get over.

You felt embarrassed, using a q-tip to fix your mascara, as the tears started to fill the corners of your eyes. This was a first date, you should have been smiling and dancing to happy songs and giggling while texting your friends about Ryan. Not crying over your ex-boyfriend, again.

The song was still playing and you knew you should have just turn it off, but you hadn’t let yourself listen to it in so long, and deep down you wanted to let yourself drown in your memories of him. No matter how much it hurt.

You stared at Aaron as he put the pizza in the oven. Two years and you still couldn’t get enough of his broad shoulders. As soon as he turned around, you walked straight into his arms and pulled him into a tight hug, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

The romantic song that was playing in the background fit the moment perfectly. You started whispering the lyrics against his skin, meaning every single word.

“This song reminds me of you,” you said. “Of us.”

He didn’t answer immediately, you guessed he was paying attention to the lyrics.

A few moments later he finally spoke. “We should dance to it then.”

Aaron took your hand and gave you a little spin, before pulling you against his body, swinging both of you slowly to the rhythm of the song.

“I love you,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you too, honey.”

“It’s really growing on me,” he said, referring to the song. “We should dance to it on our wedding.”

“Aaron!” you whined, and let your head drop on his chest.

He chuckled and pulled you closer, always loving seeing you flustered.

You would never forgive the two of you for ruining the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to you. You let work schedules and stupid fights get between two people in love.

The sound of a notification from your phone disturbed your thoughts. It was your best friend.

Ready for tonight? :)

You sighed, and dropped the phone on your bed. She was the reason you had agreed to go on that damn date. “You can’t cry over him forever,” “It’s time to move on, my love,” “If you don’t give him a chance, how will you know?”

The fact that you felt pathetic and lonely had also contributed to you saying yes. Maybe Ryan wouldn’t be that bad, after all.

Except he was. Well, maybe not bad. But he wasn’t Aaron and you made the mistake of comparing Ryan to him in every one of his moves.

He didn’t pull out your chair like Aaron always did, he got offended by your sarcastic comments instead of replying with the same energy, he didn’t fight you when you offered to split the bill, and he didn’t insist on driving you home himself. You figured he got mad because you declined his offer to join him for a drink to his place and that was why he didn’t even wait for you to call a taxi.

For some reason, though, you hadn’t called a taxi yet. Instead you were standing outside the restaurant, staring at a contact you hadn’t dared to call in a very long time.

“Honey 🧡”

Okay, maybe it was toxic that you hadn’t changed the name of his contact yet – or that you hadn’t deleted it at all – but you had never claimed to be perfect.

You took a deep breath and called his number, fast, so you wouldn’t have time to think this rationally and change your mind.

Aaron answered your call even faster.

“Hello?”

Your eyes closed at the sound of his deep voice. You had missed him.

“Aaron?”

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

There were a lot of things you could have said, but talking with him broke your heart all over again, and you started crying; your sobs making it hard for you to speak clearly. “Can you uhm…can you come pick me up, Aaron?”

“Tell me where you are.”

It was impossible for you to stop crying, so there were still tears in your eyes when Aaron arrived and parked his car right in front of you. You got in quickly, doing your best to avoid eye contact.

The car smelled like his cologne; a comforting scent to you, helping you to calm down.

He started the car, without saying a word. You didn’t dare to speak either, but you could tell by the direction of the car, he was driving you home.

“I was on a date,” you finally said.

His knuckles turned white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Did he do anything to you?” he asked, coldly.

“No.”

A deep sigh escaped him, and it was clear that it was a sigh of relief.

“Why did you call me, Y/N?”

“I miss you,” you admitted. “I was crying about you before my date. I am crying now that it’s over. I’m tired.”

Aaron was silent and you felt panic taking over your body. “I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. Or if there’s someone in your life-”

“There’s no one else,” he cut you off.

You wished you were a profiler like him; to be able to read him and his reactions. Was he angry? Was he annoyed? Was he over you? Closed off Aaron was your least favourite Aaron. You wanted to know him, to understand him.

“Aaron, talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, frustrated.

“How you feel!” you said.

“I’m upset you called.”

“Okay,” you said, softly. “I understand.”

His silence was driving you crazy, so you spoke again. “Thank you for coming even though I upset you.”

“I’ll always come when you call,” he answered. How could he say such sweet words with such a cold tone? You missed the days where he’d call you his love with a voice sweet like honey.

When you finally arrived at your place, Aaron got out of the car first and before you even had the chance to unbuckle your seat belt, he was opening the door for you.

Standing in front of him, you finally looked into his eyes. Yours were shinning with tears still, and you swore Aaron almost said something about it.

“Well…thank you again. And, I’m really sorry for upsetting you. It was immature of me to call you like that. It’s just been hard, you know?”

Aaron simply nodded.

“Okay…goodnight then,” you said, defeated, and turned around.

But as you did, you felt Aaron wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling you back and into his arms.

You let yourself break down completely, your face buried in his chest. His arms tightened around you, and you thought you could stay like that with him forever. It was safe and warm in his embrace, so you cried and sobbed while he rubbed your back in soothing circles.

“Shh…” he said. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I’m here.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you begged him.

“I won’t. I promise, my love,” he promised, and pulled back just enough to finally kiss your lips the way you’d been dying to.

“Let’s go inside, okay?”

“Okay.”

[reverie-starlight]

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. mention of long-term rough mental health patches and not doing great in school because of it. feelings of guilt for not being able to do something "normally". university students kuroo and reader. literally wrote this on a whim because I'm spiraling into oblivion and need someone like him to ground me. midterm season makes me overthink to the highest degree and he's very sure of himself, I feel like. reassurance from him would fix me <3

this is like. so hyperspecific and I only wrote it bc I needed some comfort but now I feel like I'm spiraling even more. might delete who knows.

you've been sitting at the kitchen table all morning.

kuroo watches as you sit there chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, laptop open in front of you. he knows something is weighing on your mind, but it's midterm season so he's been writing it off as stress from studying.

now, though, you seem just a bit more distressed than what he considers normal studying nerves. he decides to take a break from his textbook and bring you back to reality before you lose it. he's silently promised you and himself to keep a closer eye on you during the weeks that assignments and tests were at their peak because he knows you've been battling with your own mind again, lately and it's been affecting your grades.

"hey, you okay, sweetheart?"

you jump a little and look over at him. he's sitting on the couch, notes, textbook and his own laptop scattered on the coffee table. "huh?"

he stands up and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin on your head. "are you okay?" he repeats.

you pout a little. were you that obvious? you hadn't wanted to bother him with your dilemma, mostly out of insecurity that your decision would be frowned upon by your boyfriend, but also because you're not quite sure you want to go through with it.

kuroo is one of the most confident people you know. he's not super showy about it, but the quality definitely makes itself known in everything he does. that's not to say he never needs reassurance or experiences doubt, but compared to you, the gap feels much wider.

you know you need to learn to trust yourself more, and you're working on it-you swear! especially when it comes to academics as of late. that's part of the reason why you're kicking yourself right now.

reaching up to rest your palms on his forearms, you sigh. might as well come clean.

you're not proud of yourself for making a decision like this, but you know it can only help you in the long run. with how you've been progressing with your degree as of late due to a decline in your mental health, you'll take any opportunity you can to improve your chances of success. taking a deep breath, you tilt your head back to meet his eyes.

"I think I need to fake sick and schedule a make-up test for my exam tomorrow. I don't feel prepared for this midterm at all, and you know how well I need to do this semester. and with all the scheduling conflicts I've had with my accessibility counsellor and not being able to change my accommodations on time-"

"okay. do it," he interrupts, like what you're saying is clearly not the big deal you're making it out to be.

...what? that's... not the response you were expecting.

it's not like you were expecting him to be unsupportive, either, but you were at least assuming that he'd try to encourage you and persuade you to do your best with the time you have left.

"huh?"

he smiles softly at you and moves to crouch beside your chair, holding your hand comfortingly. "baby, you don't have to explain it to me. I understand why you want to do this and I agree with you. you're giving yourself a fighting chance any way you can. I'm not going to discourage you from that."

your eyes well with tears. you had already convinced yourself to go through with it, but hearing his validation really helps ease the guilt. "really?"

he nods and presses kisses along your arm. "I know this one's been eating away at you all week. and I think the fact that you're not going into this midterm with the 'I'll be okay' mindset is a big improvement for you. you care about your performance again, do you know how happy I am to hear that?"

you nod and sniff a little. "that's what I was thinking, too."

he stands up and looks at your screen again. "see? once my midterm is done tomorrow, I can help you study for this one until your makeup test. I took a class pretty similar to yours last year."

"and you... don't think less of me for doing this? for not being prepared enough despite having all this time to study properly? you're not gonna blame me for dealing with the consequences of my lack of action?"

he shakes his head. "absolutely not. you're still working through a lot, but you are getting there, baby. I know it's difficult for you."

"and you don't think I'm just looking for excuses just because I'm desperate and panicking?"

the look he gives you shuts down that train of thought immediately and you take his word for it.

you release your remaining tension with one exhale and offer him a small smile. "thank you, tetsu. you have no idea how much you mean to me."

the way you say it makes him think you're not just thanking him for offering his help, but his support during your darkest times as well.

he kisses your temple and rubs the back of your head. "of course, baby. you're the love of my life, I'm always going to be here for you. okay?"

"okay."

"good," he grins and kisses you on the lips before heading back over to the couch. "later we can think up what sickness you came down with. how do you feel about food poisoning?"

you snicker and throw a crumpled piece of paper at him. "well if you're cooking tonight, I might not have to fake it after all."

he laughs sarcastically and watches with fondness in his eyes as you go back to your material and continue studying, this time far less stressed.

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

idk if I want to post this. I feel weird about how directly it applies to where I'm at right now lol

and I feel like I'm just making excuses for myself atp, even though I know that's not true :((

[maxmoffs]

( hi!! ) if I could voice memo to all of you on the dash rn, you’d hear my squeals, that its something I want to update & back for realsies now haha ( but to pls not be too expectant as im still naturally slow ) sounds sad, but I already know ppl are gonna unfollow me after this post bc it’s yap but that’s okay, my focus is now fully on my writing and mutuals + mains. I’ve cut down and soft blocked so many people the past two days. and I spent the whole day, after coming from work today now that im on back, updating, and full sweep clean of ugly ooc posts on ALL of my blogs dating from from Dec 19. so you’ll notice a lot of deleted posts and my slow threads just bc that’s when i noticed i dropped and overwhelmingly yapped on the dash, but know my worth and time/deserve to be here too, and it was bc I really have no control of my own time, nevertheless we don’t apologise for that anymore because life is life. and so I’ve made some changes, mostly for myself, before I finally indulge myself into writing, these are just little tings I’ve updated that make my mind avoid weird and unnecessary “left out” feeling and able to enjoy my time here unapologetically and allowed to excite about my muses, because i see some new faces and would love to keep those who want to interact with me

the update:

here is a blog update :)

psa about my interactions

all of this applies to all of my blogs

the best way to interact with me + start something with any of my muses is ic memes.

my mains obviously stay as they are, but not closed to. these people are my friends + those that are a constant with wanda AND my whole multi and always by heavens grateful to have them otherwise wanda wouldn’t be here still:

I will not repeat nor apologise for it anymore, but i am slow! and can be an expectation with some, that’s okay if u leave bc of this but its just naturally me, im a hard mutual+friend to keep up with in general oops, and have quite a messy life schedule, and bc I sometimes get overstimulated + overwhelmed in discord and dms. despite my excitement. ( my muse ≠ my time )

whilst i know post a lot of ooc, pls note that, much like other social media, it is my way of sharing + being inclusive, it is time separated to me being “active active”. this could simply be bc im lurking or just have that sliver of time, im someone that likes to be present when im in conversation and plotting. so my replies can vary from being slow but ill always try my best 🫧

das all folks, writing will commence and return tomorrow ♥️✨

[chaoskirin]

Today, While I was in the middle of typing an email, Microsoft Outlook 365 popped up a window demanding feedback. And boy did I have shit to say.

I had to keep the swearing out, because apparently any report I make is duplicated and sent to the IT department. But the text I ended up sending follows:

---

God, I have so much to tell you. Thank you for giving me the opportunity. First: Stop messing with everything. Outlook works fine, but you keep changing things that don't need changing. Moving buttons around. Turning on features that I have explicitly turned off for not working before. Just today, you turned on the auto-suggestions again, which would be great if it actually worked. Instead, when it suggests anything you don't accept, it just mashes words together. Do you know how it feels to be typing a professional email and you miss one of those failures and send your email anyway? I mean, to be fair, I caught ten, so I still got a 90% on the ol' Microsoft-sanctioned-typo-factory. But the person I emailed doesn't see it that way, do they? They see that I mashed three words together like there was a wasp on the space bar.

Plus, my signature keeps getting deleted. Not just switched to nothing, but completely deleted. Which means I have to re-make that every time your developers get bored and decide to re-haul a program that absolutely never needs re-hauling. I remember once a couple months ago the attachment button just disappeared, and there was no way for me to attach a final bill. I had to actually use my personal gmail address to send an email to a customer because for about 16 hours, it was impossible to attach anything.

But, you say, I should have sent error reports. And I did. But the question in my mind always comes back to "why are you messing with something that does not need changing?" The only thing that ever happens is that you change aesthetics. Colors. This time the boxes are gone. Do you think you're at risk of losing customers? Do you think you have to keep things new and fresh? No. People are shackled to you. You have a quasi-monopoly and a stranglehold on a whole lot of workflows. People cannot leave you. In the world of word processing and spreadsheets, you are Alcatraz. You don't have to change things to keep people here.

Instead, long-time bugs continue to plague everything I do within this hell-suite of software. Sometimes when I try to start typing in the body of the email, outlook decides that, no, I don't want to type an email! I want to send the other emails in my inbox to the archive, where, if I don't notice this, they will sit and fester forever. There's also the bug where I create an email and it duplicates it and puts it in my drafts. Or the bug where it just creates a blank email and puts it in my drafts. Do you want to know how many blank emails I've deleted from my drafts folder? There are not enough numbers in existence to count this.

If you REALLY want to know how to improve Outlook and this message isn't just going into the wilderness like all those notebooks from the hit-TV-show-where-nobody-liked-the-ending, LOST, then please. Listen. From the bottom of my heart and from the top of my lungs: Stop changing everything. Nothing needs changing. Just run a good service. Get your programmers onto fixing longstanding bugs instead of trying to make an email and scheduling program look like a fashion show in Paris.

And if I seem a little ticked off in this message, it's because your request for feedback popped up in the middle of me compiling an email, which was just about halfway done. Outlook, in all its wisdom, decided that I didn't actually need that email and went ahead and deleted all the text in it. All of it. So after I finish giving you an earful, I'm going to have to retype it.

Hope this helps. Have a wonderful day.

[fountainpenguin]

hiii new reader here! I'm loving your neighborhood watch au :) I have a question though, what's up with all the hidden fics if you don't mind answering?

Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying it! I'm hoping to post more for that AU during 2025; working on the buffer this winter :) Next up should be "Goodchild Oscar," which I started a long time ago and have been itching to share. I love NW AU so much...

And good question! My hidden fics are in an unrevealed collection called Riddle WIPs:

Hidden works are my drafts, but in a way that prevents them from being auto-deleted by AO3 after 30 days (i.e. the way AO3's actual draft feature does).

Keeping my works in this unrevealed collection lets me see everything, organize everything, link them to other works, prep my tags in advance, and do my color-coding HTML in advance (for works that use the green/yellow/red name system for life colors). Multi-chapter works also get their spoiler dropdown boxes in advance too.

This is a lifesaver when working with series. I have my works in multiple series, and every time you add one of those (or an inspired work), you have to save/post to refresh the page before you can add another. People who subscribe to a series (as opposed to the story or author) get the notification after a work is posted. I like to make sure my work has all the series attached to it upfront, not just one. It's nice to feel like I have plenty of time to do everything I want for prep purposes without stressing about a 30-day timer.

In short, it's a LOT easier to stick to a weekly upload schedule if all the work on the AO3 side is done in advance and all I need to do is slap the chapter in and post. Here's a draft I prepped last night, for instance:

/slaps his little head - This work can fit SO much body text when I'm done.

On posting night, all I have to do is add the text, change the update date to the day I post, remove it from the unrevealed collection, and presto! People subscribed to any of those series (or to me as an author) get the notifications :) Huge time-saver that lets me keep my regular update schedule.

If you check that publish date, you can see I actually made this draft in April. I just did the tags and cover art for it last night, as I'd like to get this work posted very soon. It takes me a while to get around to each individual project, but at least I always know where to find them and I can do the parts I have energy for when I have free time.

I just made a spreadsheet this week that links all my docs and AO3 works, so I am living large...

Another reason I do this is because I often have limited Internet access, but I do have offline access to my writing docs. I have a lot of back-and-forth time on the road, and sometimes I finish my writing when I'm away from home. It's so nice to prep the AO3 side in advance while I have a stable Internet connection and mouse instead of doing all that on the trackpad.

[cnt'd - Long post]

Back when I started doing this with hidden works, it was mostly because AO3 had a bug where every time you rearranged a series, you had to manually edit every single work that came after it if you wanted the Previous and Next links to work properly.

And I did. Every time I posted. Because that's how I am. I write a series titled 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash, which used to be arranged chronologically before I went through and changed them to recommended reading order, and there are 130 one-shots in it. I have tasted so much pain...

In other words, the series feature was great for people posting new works that come "next" in the series, but it wasn't working well for people who like to rearrange the order when they post something new. Ex: I have both the Pixels Imperfect and Neighborhood Watch series in chronological order. Using the unrevealed works, I took the time to arrange all the hidden works in advance so that the timeline was properly arranged regardless of what order I submitted fics in. This way, I only had to dedicate a couple days to getting all my current WIPs prepped and arranged, with the hope being that my links would work properly for a long time before I wrote a new work and had to find a place for it. I have never written a series chronologically in my life and I think it would kill my motivation if I forced myself to do that, honestly.

I'm pretty sure this rearrangement bug was there since I joined AO3 in 2018. Guess what they fixed while I was in the middle of adding all my drafts and arranging them all :'D

This is the best bug fix ever; my crops are watered daily and my skin is clean. I live in constant fear this bug will return and I will once again be relegated to spending hours of an evening painstakingly updating every work that comes later in a series... instead of the 2 seconds it takes to place a work now.

Bonus reason why I like the hidden work feature: I have thousands of documents after my 13+ years of posting fanfics and writing original works, many of which are no longer as up-to-date as posted versions that received minor revisions over the years (like spelling fixes).

It's super nice to have a place on AO3 to keep backups where I can easily find them and not mix them up with my outdated files (which I should clean out, but hesitate to do so because it would take me days).

I do have downloaded backups of all my works as well (Bless FicLab). Went through and did a sweep last month! I will not lose over a decade of my life... I bought a flash drive necklace to slap them on, so they will literally have to pry this stuff from my cold, dead hands.

FFN went down for a week earlier this year and I had a few works that were exclusively on FFN, not yet on AO3, so I was very quick to slap those into my WIPs collection as soon as I could, haha... One of those is 30k words. Yep. Not losing that.

I really wish AO3 would let people use Previous and Next to navigate through a hidden work because it's very obnoxious for me and others who want to click through the series and then we slam into a hidden work, but c'est la vie.

I fear the bug's return with my life, and for this, everyone must click extra times to navigate around the wall.

Fun bonus screenshots of what I see on my end even though these works are hidden for you guys:

Pixels Imperfect #2, baby! ... The first wall you hit if you're trying to read the series by clicking "Next," haha... Oh no.

And some Neighborhood Watch:

The story beats are there! I'm just not yet... but it's a much bigger decision to drop a WIP if you're already "halfway there" because you've got the prep work done. Some people may not want to put that "pressure" on themselves, but I don't mind it. I like seeing the works yet to come so they remind me of how excited I am to get there. They just seem so close...

I'm easing into a hiatus from posting fanfics this winter so I can build my 'fic buffers and post a few one-shots I've had sitting around. Fingers crossed that 2025 will have a lot of NW content. I'm very excited for it and I'm glad you're looking forward to it too!

-> I am so glad NW is only the first 5 Life seasons in the same timeline, because if I had to work Wild Life's mechanics into the worldbuilding, that would be a rough one...

My late-2025 is set up to be extremely busy IRL and the next couple years are sure to be as well, so I'm putting my all into prepping buffers right now. This'll be a lifesaver for me down the road.

[geebeewrites]

★ Hello, I’m Gee and I’m currently looking for new roleplay partners. I’m 28 years old, I reside in Australia, and I’ve been roleplaying in various forms for over a decade now. I’m searching for new partners and plots at the moment so if you are interested in plotting, please feel free to either like this post or send me a direct message. Before reaching out, please read the below to make sure that we’re compatible: 

♥ 21 + please! Even if we aren’t writing smut, most plots will involve mature themes so please, no minors.

♥ I write exclusively on Discord these days, however use Tumblr for initially finding a partner and making sure we’re compatible before moving things across to Discord. 

♥ I’m currently only doing original character roleplaying as opposed to writing within any specific fandoms. I’m flexible in terms of pairings (mxm, mxf, nonbinary pairings), although mxm ships will always have a special place in my heart! I am happy to play any gender but that said, I don’t enjoy being used just to play male characters in mxf ships so please keep that in mind before reaching out.  

♥ I’m currently only looking for partners for the wanted plots on my page, however I’m super flexible in terms of plotting out the specific details and making sure that it’s something we’re both passionate about as this definitely isn’t a dictatorship. I particularly love slice of life, angst, and celebrity plots. I enjoy writing smut and mature themes but I love to make sure that each roleplay is also quite plot heavy and that we’re all getting the opportunity to develop our characters! 

♥ I have some predeveloped muses and a face claim directory on my blog so if there’s a particular character or face claim that really jumps out at you, please let me know! I’m also flexible in terms of changing the characteristics of my original characters to better suit a particular plot.

♥ Communication is key! I know that real life can get hectic sometimes. I personally work full-time and study part-time, however do consider myself a relatively active partner (at a minimum, I aim to reply several times per week but I can often manage daily replies around my schedule). Whilst I’m not expecting you to do daily replies, I am definitely looking for partners that can manage a few replies per week. If you aren’t feeling a particular plot anymore or if things are happening in your real life that will delay replies, please just flick me a message -- I promise that I’m not going to be upset! I’m the kind of partner that likes to talk ooc so that we can plot, share headcanons and muse posts, and build an ooc friendship as well. If I haven’t received any in character or ooc contact for extended periods of time, that does really impact my muse and it can come across as a lack of commitment/interest on the other person’s part. I reserve the right to leave and/or delete servers if that is the case. 

♥ Here are some links on my page that you might find helpful! Top 10 Most Wanted Plots | Other Wanted Plots | FC Directory 

If you’ve read through all of this and you think that we’re compatible, please like this post or send me a message so that we can get the ball rolling! 

[fulloflambing]

just yap about my most recent work (how i made it, the alternate plots or endings), and my future posts :D

writing that story took soooo much brain juice from me i feel like my brain has become a wringed sponge. im honestly rlly proud i managed to finish it😭

ive had writing experience before here on tumblr but i never rlly put alot of effort into it and it often made me feel bad about how i finished my stories. i always just thought about a vague plot, typed away, and posted it. some people enjoyed it n i was grateful for that but whenever id reread my own stories it would make me criticize myself and make me unmotivated to write, which eventually made me delete my old writeblr.

but ever since i've come back, and especially with 'heaven can wait', i rlly took my time to rewrite things i didnt find fitting. ive stopped writing just to post, but writing to actually enjoy and better my skills. im honestly proud of myself for taking the time to do that because i am, truthfully, a very impatient person n i hate redoing things. actually, i rewrote the story by like the 3.5k word mark TWICE and made sure i was truly happy with it. the plot was actually supposed to go two ways!:

kinich would find reader in their home, and they could comfort eachother real quick in the house before kinich escorted them to the survival shelter. kinich would then make a promise to reader to come back alive and boom boom fighting wham he comes back to them and boom emotional reunion!

^ i changed my mind halfway while writing this because i wanted the story to have more depth and to make it more about reader and kinich both experiencing grief and negative emotions more. this plotline was just too lovey dovey and chill for my liking.

2. kinich reunites with the reader in the end by finding her dead asleep in the tribe's infirmary.

^ i didnt like this ending because i felt like it would've been a boring climax to the heavy emotions of reader as she was separated from kinich thinking he was dead. does that make sense? like it felt like a boring way to end off y/n's part after building up all these negative thoughts swirling in their mind just for her not to even see kinich come back from war to have those negative thoughts be swooped away from her in a romantic light. it was cute tho, kinich would've been whispering 'im home' as he admired reader as they recovered but i didnt want a calm ending for the story. i wanted a passionate, emotional reunion type :) like very 'light after the storm'-esque type of ending!

some parts of the story i dont like but i feel like is the part i could do for the story was how mavuika defeated the abyss? i CANT WRITE ACTION FOR SHYT!!!! so it took so much deleting and rewriting and paraphrasing it actually got me a headache just to write that small section 😭😭

on a more exciting note, the next thingy ill write is probably for kinich's birthday! im very torn about what ill write and when ill write it because i have exams right after kinichs bday so i dont think ill have time to write for it.

but after i figure out and post a birthday special for kinich, i'll be writing a more angsty, heartbroken-y story kind of related to 'heaven can wait' but if things went wrong. its really not an alternate ending, more of like "if it ended this way, this would've happened." its been a plot thats been marinating in my head for awhile and i think you guys will rlly like it! its gonna be angst with comfort but still sad ending hihi sorry.

i have alot of canon fanfic ideas that i wna write as soon as possible but i feel like i should switch it up and write some modern!au fics. and maybe with other characters (my other favs! capitano, xiao, thoma, etc.). i also feel like i have to prepare a 100 follower special soon but i have nooo idea what to do for it huhu THANK U BTW GUYS FOR 81 FOLLOWERS AAA IM SO TOUCHED

in short, i have a lot and i mean srsly alot of kinich ideas rn but my schedule is gonna be cramped this week. but after ill be free again! my problem is i just dont know what to write first 😔💔

anyway, maybe ill do a poll or something :) ILL SEE WHAT I CAN DO!!

if you've read this far, thank u sm and i appreciate it >< ill do my best to write as much as i can.

[ramblings-of-lola]

I've been thinking about how I want to change my reading. Most of these goals are ones I try to have in the back of my mind anyway but I'm awful at sticking to them. I'm hoping by posting this, it'll be a way to mentally keep me accountable about following them.

I might post a follow up on my wrap ups about how I'm meeting the goals (or how I'm not) if I feel like it or people are curious.

Reading goals:

Read more books I own. I have a tendency to buy or receive books and not read them for years.

Regularly go through Goodreads list to remove books. My Goodreads list often fills up with books that I lose interest in so I want to stay on top of it.

Keep up with reviews for wrap ups. For my monthly wrap ups, I'll sometimes wait until the end of the month before writing my thoughts and can't remember much about the book or why I rated it a certain way.

Finish series, but also take breaks as needed. There's quite a few series I've picked up the first book, took a break, and never picked up the next book again. It's been years for some of these and I want to complete them.

Don't be afraid to DNF. I do okay at this, but I definitely could be better at quitting books I'm not enjoying.

Read more science fiction. This is a genre I think is interesting but I've only read a few books from and I want to get more into it (recommendations would be appreciated).

Read more non-fiction. I don't really read any and I want to because there's so many interesting historical periods, people, and places that I'd love to learn more about.

Less scrolling, more reading. This goal I'm starting to take more seriously lately. I logged out of social media and deleted apps on my phone to help. I'm trying to have scheduled time in my day to read.

Read more children's fiction. This is another way to broaden my reading taste. I love middle-grade and definitely don't read enough of it.

Try poetry. I've never given poetry a shot because I didn't understand it. I've read a few books told in verse and liked them so I want to actually try a book of poems (recommendations for this would also be appreciated).

Try reading random books. Since I discovered the bookish side of the internet, I've basically let it dictate what I read. I almost never read a book anymore unless it's a recommendation from someone online. There's nothing wrong about that, but I'd like to read more obscure books. And there's a certain joy that comes from finding and reading a book you've never heard of.

Try to read more classics. A lot of my favorite movies are based on classics I haven't tried reading. Also, some of my favorite books, like Lord of the Rings and Dune, are classics so I want to try to read more.

Read more historical fiction. I used to read of lot of this genre and now I hardly read it. I still like the genre and I want to try to get back into it.