#then four pages and 1k words later here i was

[devilfic]

Idk if you have seen daredevil but in the case you have can I request a head cannon of you making a playlist for him and him talking about songs that remind you of him?

Like I was listening to The Marias and I felt that their songs give this feeling of how it would be to date him.

❝making a playlist for matt murdock❞

pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader. cw: established relationship, brief mention of sex. words: 1k.

a/n: I actually have seen daredevil and I love him a lot, this will be fun. shoutout to this post that confirmed the "matt murdock loves jazz" vibe he gives off

I wanna start off by saying that as soon as I saw "daredevil" and "songs" in the same sentence, I got a VIVID image of matt in a jazz bar

I can't recall off the top of my head if matt mentions any specific artists or genres he listens to in the show, but I personally think matt likes jazz, funk, maybe some soul/neo-soul, or anything you'd hear in a nice understated bar downtown

the thing is I think that matt really likes instrumental-heavy music because he appreciates being able to pick apart the melodies

I also imagine he's a stickler for his favorite genres and won't really relent unless you introduce something new to him by force

so, a playlist

you push an mp3 player into his hand as you walk past him and he thumbs over the buttons, twists a finger through the cords of the earbuds, and smiles, "what's this?"

he hears you land on the couch and makes his way over to sit beside you as you take one of the earbuds to put in your ear, stretching your legs over his lap, "I made a playlist for you!"

"yeah?"

"yeah. I know you like your vinyls but this is smaller, more compact. easy to put in your pocket and hopefully not break when you're running around the city at night. I'm serious. don't break that."

"I'm honored," matt tilts his head in your direction, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, listening for the parting of your lips as they break into a smile, "nothing too shocking, I hope?"

"I tried to stick to things I thought you'd like, and I did include some of the songs you've recommended to me over the years since you can't lug your vinyls everywhere. it won't sound as nice but... it's something. it's pretty romantic, right?"

it is romantic

matt imagines you hunched over his computer, tediously searching up mp3s of his favorite songs and putting together a playlist for him, trying your best to ease him into unfamiliar territory

he can also hear the nervous thumping of your heart as you wait for his reply, so he splays a hand over your ankle and squeezes, "yeah, you're pretty damn romantic. any particular order I should play it in?

"just hit play, handsome."

when the first song starts playing, he's transported back to hearing it for the first time in the bar where he met you, sharing drinks at a table as you humored him on your theories of who the devil of hell's kitchen really was

you were a few drinks past tipsy and had come to chat him up at the behest of your friends who—and you learned this several days later—he'd heard call him sexy at least four times

but it was you whose voice had caught his attention, who had sworn that a "man like him" had to be waiting for a date, that there was no way he'd be here all alone

and had promptly eaten your words when he chimed in to let you know that he did not, in fact, have a date

he was fuzzy on the details as to how you'd gotten on the topic of his alter ego, but it tickled him nonetheless how you presented your theories more confidently than you flirted

he countered each one but in good faith, playing devil's advocate if only so that he could hear how your mind whirred with ideas

after a few pretty well-articulated counterarguments, you'd snorted and asked, "what are you, a lawyer?"

and when you learned that he was a lawyer? the matt murdock of nelson, murdock, & page? oh, he was sure you lit up like a christmas tree

even after walking you to your place, matt was humming the tune of the song he'd discovered you to, a feeling in his bones that more than just it would be sticking around

matt takes you to a jazz bar for your first date, feeding you details about the musicians over drinks as you ask him about his favorites

he likes a lot of the classics: things his dad enjoyed, stuff he's heard at the jazz bars he's roped foggy into visiting with him during law school

he tells you he likes some of the new stuff but nothing beats the classics, all of which he has vinyls of at home

and you ask him about the newer artists he likes and he tells you he'll put some on for you at his place if the night is still young

that night, he brings you back to his and plays this while you make love

most of the songs matt thinks of when he thinks of you are wordless, often more abstract representations of how you make him feel

the few songs with words are quite literal. whatever the lyrics say is how he feels about you

you've learned—if you're not already a fan of the same genres—to appreciate his taste

and you've also learned to love the way he lights up as you describe what the music sounds like to him, the way he slips in a word here and there when you come up short and it always just fits

it's kind of like his love language

you've got some of these songs on the playlist too

you see him get a little stiff when a song comes on that he doesn't know, and so you watch all the minute expressions in his face as it plays, wondering anxiously if he likes it or not

you know he does when he replays it

he'll tap out the rhythm on your ankle like he's picking apart every detail of the song piece by piece, placing them layer over layer in his mind until it becomes whole and he turns to tell you he really likes it

while he usually likes to keep his ears open for anything in the city while he's out and about, he'll pop in an earbud and start your playlist and think about you

now, if only you'd add a recording of you singing to yourself every morning, it'd be complete. that's gotta be his favorite

taglists: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes

[shurisleftearring]

Green Eyes Pt 2

a/n: Thank you so much for the love on the first part! I am so shocked by the love its gotten so far! I have many more parts to come! Enjoy! (Also bear with me it get juicier each part I promise) (Also I know that I’m late but better late then never 😚).

But I don't love you anymore, i'm so insecure, never knew that love did this...

Pairing: Shuri x Black!fem!reader

Word Count: 1k+

Summary : Five years. It’s been five years since the blip. And even longer since you’ve been in a relationship. Maybe it’s for the best. The last time you were in a relationship, it just ended in disarray. But, when your ex comes back into your life, can you start over and do it again? Or try to move on with an unexpected love?

Part one is pinned on my page!

You felt a certain sense of nervousness around Shuri now. Even though you were secure in yourself now, it just felt different. She was different. 

“Hello…y/n?” Shuri said

You snapped out of the train of thought you were in.

“Huh?”

“I said do you like my car uthando?” 

You had no idea what that meant but you were turned on by it. You loved it when she spoke her native language. 

“It’s aight”

She chuckled “Just alright? Even though you were just gawking at it a minute ago?”

You shrugged. 

Kaira felt all the of tension between the two of you.  

“Well, sorry about that Your Majesty, it’s just stunning,” Kaira said breaking the silence

“No worries, and please call me Shuri,” Shuri said to Kaira

“Ok!” You could tell that she was trying to flirt with her eyes.

All you wanted to do at the moment was leave.

“Well, it’s late, see you around.” You said

 Kair tried to wave goodbye, but you grabbed Kaira before she could do anything.

“See you around…” Shuri said.

She didn’t recognize you. Inside and out. She only recognizes you by the birthmark on your lower back that you rarely showed. Damn, after all of this time, she still remembers every little detail. She didn’t know what happened to you, but she was going to find out.   

“y/n, she is fine as fuck! Can you introduce me?”

You just rolled your eyes.  “No, let’s go”

_____________________________________

A few days later

It is your first day at Stark Industries and you already have two meetings, and four deadlines to meet. I guess they have been struggling since the infinity war. 

“You have a meeting in five minutes,” says your assistant. You promised yourself that the assistant that you had at your old job would come here. He is the best there is, it’s just a guy plus he's black. 

“Thank you, Anthony.” 

You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and then go to the meeting room. You're fortunately early so you give yourself a little pep talk. 

“You got this, this job will help you, not hurt you. You will become CEO soon, and won't have to deal with this bullshit.”

“You have a long way to go, my love.”

Shit. It’s Shuri. 

“Stop calling me that, we're in a public place.”

“Oh, so you don’t mind in public?” She said smugly.

You hated her newfound cockyness. It was getting annoying.

“No, not anywhere. Shuri, let’s make something clear. We are not together, stop calling me these pet names.”

“...No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No uthando, no” -love

You knew she called You forgot how petty she was. You were having a staring contest with her and you were losing. She was just too fine.

“Hey ladies, I can see y’all are gay as fuck but please, let’s not be in  the office.”

“Peter shut the hell up.” You say.

“How long has this been going on? Shuri only calls her girlfriends ‘love’”

“Nothing is going on I can assure you that”

Shuri is looking at you so smugly. “I mean..”

 You looked at her “What the hell you mean ‘I mean’?” 

“...We could've been at least engaged by now if it wasn’t for you ripping my heart out to shreds.”

“Excuse me?! It was your MOTHER who broke us apart. She told me never to contact you and to break up with you. That-”

“Don’t. Don’t you start y/n”

“OR WHAT? SHE RUINED MY LIFE. OUR RELATIONSHIP, MADE  MY LIFE A LIVING HELL UNTIL I LEFT. FACE IT SHURI YOUR MOTHER IS A HOMOPHOBIC BITCH. SHE HATED ME AND MANIPULATED YOU AT EVERY TURN” you screamed. 

“Y/N WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH”

Peter was just watching in awe and confusion. 

You and Shuri are now close. Your face is so close, your noses are touching.

Shuri was mad at you, but she knew that she was right. Her mother told her before she died about what she did. Then something clicked in Peter’s mind.

“...wait…y/n you don’t know?”

“I don’t know what Peter?” You said irritated.

“That Queen Rom-”

“SHUT UP PETER”

“What? She what?”

“Nothing” Shuri gritted through her teeth.

A massive silence fell until other people started coming in. You just sat down and looked away mad. Shuri just stormed out of the room.  You just sat there in anger and confusion. What was Shuri hiding from you? What happened to her mom?

_____________________________________

After the meeting, you just felt drained, especially after that fight you had with Shuri. You just got into your apartment when your phone buzzed. What now?  you thought. You kicked off your heels and put your coat on the rack. You looked at your phone to see that an unknown number texted you. Be downstairs in five, it’s important. You had a feeling it was Shuri. You were just drained and wanted to deal with it later. You set up your I’m drained the fuck out set up on the couch and was about to put on Living Single when your doorbell rang. You sighed and went to open the door. When you opened it, it was Shuri. “I told you to be ready in five. It’s been thirty minutes.” 

“That should have been the green light to go. home. I don’t wanna deal with anything right now so please leave me alone.”

“No, we need to talk. NOW”

Her aggression took you aback. 

“I said no Shuri” Shuri just sighed.

“Love, please, this is important” You gave her a look. 

“...It’s about the project,” She said

You sighed and just looked at her. 

“Fine, just let me try to look decent”

“Not you getting dolled up for me”

You just rolled you eyes and went into your bathroom to clean yourself up from the day. _____________________________________

Shuri felt bad for going off on you. I mean, you didn’t know that her mother was murdered. But, You still crossed a line and you needed to know that. Now that Shuri is going to be your boss, she can’t have you mad. It'll ruin your performance, plus, she wants to say pet names to you and not have to worry about another screeching match. You came out of your bedroom and holy shit. Every time she saw you, you fell in love with your curves, hips, and even how your ass jiggled when you walked. She missed that. She missed your hug and your smile. She just missed you. 

“I’m ready,” you said 

She could tell you were tired, but she couldn’t let you go to sleep mad at her.

“We won’t be out long, I promise” 

“Yeah, yeah. Can we just go?”

_____________________________________

Y’all just came from the car and saw the restaurant. It was beautiful. The neon signs were your favorite. 

“Wow, Shuri, this place is amazing.”

“I know, when I saw it I thought of you. Also, is gumbo still your favorite?”

Omg…you haven’t had gumbo in so long. Since you've been on that keto diet, you have forgotten what gumbo tastes like.

“They have gumbo here?” Your face lights up.

She whispered into your ear, “Yes, uthando”

You eventually get seated and then order a big pack of those dinner rolls. All of the hard work you put in is now gone once you eat the first roll. Your eyes start rolling back and Shuri can’t help but laugh. 

“What have you been eating? Grass?” 

You can’t even hear her. All you can think about is having another roll. 

“Oh my, love slow down”

“These are so fucking good, oh my god!”

Shuri was having a field day, taking pictures, and laughing her ass off, she didn’t notice you had about 5-6 rolls. 

“Well shit y/n”

You looked at the plate so embarrassed. It just hit how much of that you're gonna have to cut back to even make on how many pounds you ate. 

“y/n it’s ok, you just got hungry. That’s all” 

“No, I lost control”

“Look, I know that you have problems with your eating, but please just enjoy it. Please? For me, love?” 

You just sighed “Ok, I will”

Shuri smiled “Good, now I already ordered ahead”

You looked at her confused “huh”

“What did you order…”

“You’ll just have to see love,” she said as she winked at you

Now you were intrigued. Shuri was not the person you once knew and it was scary. The “baby lesbian who doesn’t know shit” is gone. You didn’t know how to feel. A part of you loved it, and a part of you was sad that those simpler times were over. 

“Ooo, your song is on!” she said, swaying to the music in her chair.

Oh shit. It was Rain by SWV. You laughed. You forgot that she loved this song as much as you do.

She stood up and offered her hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You were a little hesitant but then obliged.

She pulled you into her and started dancing. With her soothing hands on your waist and her warm scent, you let loose. And started doing something that you thought would never happen again: dance. 

“Look at youuu, dancin’, and shit”

You rolled your eyes and started singing some of the lyrics. 

“Raiiiinnn downnnn on meee, let your lovee just fall on meeeee”

At this point, both of you guys were singing and dancing. Everyone was looking at you. There was a karaoke place, but y'all didn’t use it. 

The song was at a close end. 

“Sometimes it's soft as a mistyy raiiinnnnnn” both you and Shuri sing.

You both busted out laughing, walking to go back to your seats. Sitting down, you couldn’t contain the new excitement you just found. When you looked down at the table you saw gumbo, jambalaya, curry chicken, coco bread, and much more. 

“Holy shit,” You said.

“Shuri…how tf am I gonna eat all of this food?”

“You won't, I invited some extra people last minute. I underestimated the quantity of the food so I called some people. They should be here any minute now.” 

“Oh”

You were a little disappointed that it wasn’t going to be just you and her. Wait no you didn’t, you just got your life together. You can’t ruin that.

Shuri peeped at the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me alone”

So did I  you thought. 

“I-I’m not disappointed” 

“Ndicela ungandixokisi sthandwa”- do not lie to me, my love

Her kimoyo beads translated for you. 

“I am not lying, I promise”

She chuckled at your failed attempt at trying to act tough. It was trash, but funny. Instead of grilling you about it, she just changed the subject.

“So, I need to talk to you about a few things”

“I figured that”

Shuri put down her drink. “What you said about my mother was unacceptable. You will respect her. Understand?”

Your lower regions were getting wetter by second. You didn’t know where all of this dominance came from but your vagina was wetter than NIagra Falls. 

“Yes. I realize that now, even though I am right, I could've said it better. I don’t even like to say that word, I was just angry”

“I understand. And I apologize for ‘poking the bear’ as you Americans say. I shouldn’t have done that”

You put down your drink trying not to smile. You loved this new her. She grew so much over the years. 

“Also,I thought you would know more about Xhosa by now” Shuri said, changing the subject again. 

“I stopped learning after I got my first promotion, I just didn’t have any time”

“Shame, because you’ll need to learn it”

You looked at her blankly.

“..why?”

She puts down her drink. 

“Because your first task is to help me in Wakanda”

[millie-mar]

the stranger things i hate about you

chapter four: the hideout pt1

| 1k words | 10 things i hate about you!steddie |

Throughout the eighteen years that he’s been alive, Steve met many people. He made friends, dated a bit, hooked up a lot, but in the end it was all pointless. He realised that he brings people pain, so he isolated himself, but now, he has to go back to that extroverted Steve Harrington and go out with Eddie Munson. He’s mostly concerned with the fact that Eddie seems to not buy his bullshit and definitely suspects something.

Steve’s thoughts linger on that as he leaves the school building a bit later than others. He couldn’t stop thinking about his earlier exchange with Eddie, so much that he lost track of time and didn’t realise everyone from his class already left long ago. So now he’s alone on the school’s parking lot. He stops in his tracks and looks up at the sky, then closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in and out.

‘Finally. I thought I’d have to wait here for the rest of the day!’ Robin’s voice interrupts Steve’s thought process and causes him to jump slightly.

‘Dammit, you couldn’t give me a warning?’

‘Isn’t me speaking up enough of a warning?’ Robin approaches Steve, patting his back. ‘So… How did it go?’

‘How did what go?’ Steve knows what the girl means, but he was confused as to how she knew about his conversation with Eddie.

‘Don’t play dumb. I pay you to do something for me, so of course I’m going to track your progress.’ Robin says, her chin up and an uncomfortable smirk on her face, she’s definitely not used to saying something like that.

‘We’re meeting tonight.’ he sighs.

‘Tonight? Grea-‘ she stops, thinking for a second ‘Wait. Tonight?!’ she exclaims ‘But he’s meeting Jonathan and Nancy tonight!’ At the mention of the latter name, Steve halts and looks slowly at Robin.

‘Nancy? With Eddie?’ He cannot believe that. He’s never even seen the two together, and since the girl broke up with him after the ‘incident’, he has kept his distance, but he has never stopped caring about her, and liked to check in on her now and then. ‘How do you even know that?’

Robin’s expression changes completely, her mouth slightly open, eyes wide, but it’s temporary and she regains composure. ‘I have my ways.’

Steve decides not to question it for now, he’s not really in a position to do so, so he changes the topic. ‘What am I supposed to do then? Eddie said he’ll pick me up at seven, and we’re going to a bar.’

‘What bar?’ Robin immediately jumps in, determination on her face.

‘I’m not sure, the name kind of slipped in to the conversation.’ he replies, deep in thought. ‘Steakout? Hangar-‘

‘Hideout?’ she interjects.

‘Yes! That’s the one.’

‘Hideout is an inclusive bar. It’s on the edge of town, kind of in the middle of nowhere.’ Robin takes her phone out to check the exact address.

‘An inclusive bar?’ Steve questions, confused.

‘Yeah. A gay bar.’ Steve’s eyes look like they’re going to fall out his sockets. He’s never been to a gay bar, maybe because he’s not gay. But does this mean that Eddie is? ‘Well, technically an LGBTQ bar, but saying gay bar makes it easier for people who are not part of the community to understand.’

Robin types something on her iPhone, scrolls couple times and gives her phone to Steve. ‘Here. You need to find out what the guy likes if you want to befriend him.’ The way she said ‘befriend’ stuck to Steve. What exactly does Robin expect him to do?

Steve took the phone and looked at the page opened on the screen. It was Eddie’s instagram profile, full of posts. Most of them don’t even show Eddie’s face, but one; a picture of Eddie, smiling brightly with his arms around a guy who’s covered his face and… Nancy. Steve opened the post, the caption saying ‘night out w my ppl🤘🏻’ . He never thought Nancy would be friends with someone like Eddie, she’s always been a preppy girl. While Eddie, he’s a punk, he smokes, does drugs, drinks, he’s in a band, hangs out with other weirdos from younger years.

Steve’s jealousy clouds his judgement. He’s seen how close everyone at Eddie’s table is in canteen; they laugh, chant and even hug each-other. While his table would chuck things at other people and laugh at someone else’s despair. He wants that connection with someone, which is why he fell in love with Nancy. She gave him that feeling. But now she’s got that connection with Eddie. A pang of pain hits Steve in the chest. The thought of her and Eddie doing the things they did fills him with annoyance and a bit of anger.

He will befriend Eddie, and whether it’s to make a change or be a prick and destroy what he has with Nancy, he’ll decide later.

After scrolling the posts on Eddie’s profile for the past ten minutes, Steve gathered the basic things that Eddie likes; metal music, his guitar, his band, D&D, his friends and a dog that he apparently has. Most of these things Steve already knew. He gave Robin her phone back, the girl already at the edge of losing her mind from the wait.

‘I’ll need your help.’ Steve says, an idea forming in his head.

‘With what?’ Robin couldn’t be more confused, seeing a little smirk on Steve’s face.

‘I need to get his attention somehow, and make it believable I wanna be friends, right? Be at mine for six. Bring your makeup, and any punk jewellery you can find.’

With that, Steve leaves Robin on the parking lot, dumbfounded, still not able to comprehend what is happening. Slowly, she smiles to herself, ‘Welcome back Harrington.’ She mumbles and leaves the place not long after, hand in her pockets and the smile not leaving her face.

<- last | next ->

[wholoveseggs]

Moonlight - Chapter Five

A woman’s life is turned completely upside-down when she encounters some demons in the woods.

I will be putting specific warnings for each chapter as they come out, there is smut and violence in some but I'll tag those chapters accordingly.

If you rather read this on Ao3- Link is here

1k Words - Warnings: None.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

Lilacs

Emma was sitting against a tree overlooking the plain, one of Elijah's books in her lap. She found it in the clearing that morning, with a note from him telling her he would visit later. She studied the note, tracing her fingers over his perfect cursive, then tucked it away in her dress pocket.

She began rubbing a salve over her bruised shoulder, hoping it would dull the pain a bit. She swore under her breath when some of it dropped on a page, wiping it off hastily.

She heard the familiar sound of twigs snapping as he made his way down the path. He sat down next to her silently, pulling at the fabric of her dress to look at her bruises.

"Don't," she said quietly, brushing his hand off of her and avoiding his gaze.

Elijah sighed, his expression clouding with concern. "I can make him stop," he said.

"No, I can handle it," she replied, her eyes fixed on her lap.

"By slowly poisoning him?" he questioned, a sardonic chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned back against the tree.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she met his gaze. "Do demons know all my darkest secrets?" she inquired.

He laughed, the handsome creases around his dark eyes deepening. "No, dear Emma, I can smell the poison in his blood." He gave her a reassuring pat on her leg. "I advise that you increase the dosage," he said.

She let out a small sigh as shame washed over her, putting her head down in her hands. "Is that why I am so drawn to you? Because of the darkness in my heart?" She asked.

"No, it's not darkness, but a yearning for freedom. I can grant you that, if it's what you desire," he assured her.

She sat up, turning to meet his gaze. "At what cost?" she inquired.

"Everything," he replied, a warm smile gracing his lips.

He wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. She couldn't help but study his striking features, her fingertips delicately tracing the contours of his jaw. Such a beautiful monster, she thought, her head resting on his shoulder. A profound silence settled between them as they both gazed toward the horizon, where a formation of clouds drifted in the distance.

He turned his head slightly, his lips grazing the top of her head. "It's my turn to show you something," he murmured into her hair. With a graceful movement, he stood and reached out his hand to help her up.

"Where?" She asked, taking his hand. He gave her a teasing smile and motioned his head towards the woods.

He held her hand as he guided her along an unfamiliar path until they reached the far end of the old hall grounds. She stopped walking, hesitating at the treeline. "Is Niklaus there?" She asked.

Elijah looked to the old hall and back at Emma, giving her a gentle look. "Don't worry; he will not harm you."

They stepped out and crossed the grounds, entering the old hall through a side door. The place smelled of decaying wood and lilacs. She could see a vase full of the fresh flowers on a table. "Did you pick those?" She asked, pointing at them.

He nodded, "They remind me of you."

A faint blush adorned her cheeks as she followed him down a long hallway. He stopped outside a pair of old double doors and moved behind her. "Close your eyes," he whispered in her ear. She nodded, and he gently covered her eyes with his hands.

Feeling her way, she carefully pushed the doors open. He removed his hands, and she opened her eyes. Before her lay a magnificent library, illuminated by soft candlelight. Hundreds of titles were neatly placed on ancient wooden bookshelves, their spines bearing the weight of centuries of knowledge. Overwhelmed with joy, she went to one of the shelves and picked up a book, her eyes lighting up as she looked at Elijah with a huge smile on her face.

"This is wonderful," she said, her voice filled with genuine excitement, as she read the back of a book, then placed it down to pick up another. Elijah came up behind her, his arms encircling her waist. He was warm and firm, his presence comforting like the scent of pine trees on a crisp morning. She could feel his warm breath on her neck, and she instinctively leaned into him. So safe she felt, in the arms of a demon.

She could see the sun setting from the window, its golden hues casting a warm glow across the room, and she let out a sigh. "I must go home," she whispered, her voice barely audible, not wanting to leave his embrace.

"I know," he said quietly, lowering his head and brushing his lips along the bruises on her shoulder. She closed her eyes, as the sensation elicited goosebumps across her skin and ignited a growing warmth between her legs. The temptation to turn around and give in to desire was overwhelming, a magnetic pull between them that neither could deny.

"I see you two have grown close; how very scandalous," Klaus interrupted, leaning casually in the doorway, an amused expression playing on his face as he glanced between Elijah and Emma.

"The coven is gathering tonight. I think we should crash their party if you're not busy," he said to Elijah.

Elijah nodded and reluctantly released his hold on Emma. She turned to him with a concerned look etched on her face. "It's alright; I'll walk you home," he reassured her, his gaze softening with tenderness as he took her hand and led her out of the library.

{Masterlist} - {Chapter list} Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six

[priafey]

Hiii. I wanted to share this excerpt from the latest chapter of Among the Many Lost Souls (which should be ready for publishing sometime between today and tomorrow). This is Sylvette's (or Sylvie's) backstory in a nutshell. It's <1k words. Trigger warning for allusions to sexual abuse (specifically, CSA), domestic abuse, and general violence. SYLVIE LORE, HERE WE COME

Sylvie remembered, very clearly, the first time a stranger touched her.

She couldn't have been older than three. One of the servants put her out in the hallway that day. They were angry with her over something she'd done; she'd long since forgotten what. There was rain bearing down on the tiny windowpanes a world above her. She couldn't see it, but she could hear it. Something sad swelled in her. Sylvie scraped at the wall with the talisman the servant had given to keep her busy as she began to sniffle. Someone tall knelt next to her before she could arrive at tears, however, and she neglected her makeshift toy to look. Her wet, little eyes were like two wilted, orange poppies reaching up to meet the stranger's smile.

"Do you want up?" he asked, and Sylvie's face lit up like a Fire Festival mage's fingertips. His own fingertips slipped under her legs, and he raised her up above his head. Sylvie could still see the rain running like a great, distorted curtain down that hand-wrought glass if she closed her eyes. She could still see the shapes she traced with her tiny finger, on the breathprints that appeared in front of her nose. The wispy cobwebs, the splintered wood, the cracked paint. All of it. The only image she conserved more clearly from that moment was the one she put together as the man lowered her into his arms.

His eyes. Hazy with sadness, like hers not a minute ago. And yet teeming with love.

He breathed in deep then, and pressed her head to his breast. His chest jerked as he fell into inconsolable sobbing. Sylvie was confused. She vaguely wondered if he was sad he couldn't see the rain up close, like she had. She wished she was tall and strong, like him, so she could lift him up to look. Meanwhile, she buried her nose in the soft wrinkles of his robes. He smelled nice. Deep, musky, sweet, she'd think, years later. Like a leather-bound book filled with more flowers than pages.

One of the servant's voices in the adjacent room made him start. Quickly, but gently, the stranger set Sylvie down. He must've glanced back at her three or four times before disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

Moments later, she heard someone else coming up the stairs. Those were footsteps Sylvie knew well. She began to strike the floor with the talisman as quietly and harshly as she could, leaving dreadful etches in the woodwork. His voice broke out like a roar. He gained ground. She trembled uncontrollably as he grabbed her arm and yanked her off the floor, chastising her for always ruining all the nice things he bought for her. Sylvie didn't often struggle against her father once they made it to her room.

But on that day, she did.

There came a point in time she thought it all so normal. Her father's visits became like the rain–sporadic, unknowable, uncontrollable occurrences she regarded with complete indifference, except when they occurred with an unusually intense violence. Similarly did all the servants, not to mention her mother, Lousine, concern themselves with what was unfolding under their roof. At least in her mother's case, Sylvie supposed, she couldn't be blamed for failing to protect her. She had her own screams to let out on the marriage bed.

For eighteen years was unthinking cruelty the routine within the jarl's longhouse, and for eighteen years did Lousine sit on the secret that would increase it tenfold, from the moment it got out.

She went to go talk to her during the evening, on her birthday. Sylvie cried a lot. Lousine, however, cried very little, even as her daughter begged her not to go tell her husband what they now both knew–even as Sylvie fell to her knees, pulled at her dress, and did everything to plead as fervently as she could without drawing the jarl's attention. But still Lousine left her.

The sepulchral silence of the hours that followed scared Sylvie worse than any of her father's doings ever had. Her mother was dead. She had to be. Sylvie spent the night curled up in bed, praying, though she'd never been very devout, that the Divines spare her the jarl's wrath. That she'd wake in the morning, and he'd be dead or gone, and she and her real father could leave it all behind to go live in High Rock together.

Instead, at first light, the jarl issued a decree.

Sylvie did not get the chance to speak to Florence as he was arrested in the merchant's square, nor as she felt, in the soles of her boots, the force with which he was beaten against the cobbles of the road leading to his house, nor as she heard the jarl declare this former thane of his a traitor of the highest degree, undeserving of any of the titles and properties he had so graciously been granted. These, he said, were now forfeit. Having seized all of his belongings, the guards bound, gagged, and threw Florence on the steps of his ruined home. In a final act of humiliation, the jarl handed his wife the torch. Sylvie heard every word he whispered into Lousine's ear then.

"Time to make your whore go up in smoke."

[moccabunie]

things I've learned after a year writing fanfiction

This is a post from a non-writer who, apparently, now writes (❓) And this is a little crazy to me, considering that a year ago writing less than 1k decent words took a lot of effort. But this year I have completed a +100k project. (It's still difficult, though.)

I found out that the more I wrote, the easier it was to get into the story. So I think that being captivated by my own story has made a lot. I am an eager fanfiction reader, but I had yet to really try to write something on my own.

That was until I got hyper-fixated on three characters and wrote a small story about them sharing a room, and it was one of the funniest and most rewarding things I've done. So I was like "oh, maybe I can try to imagine stories I would like to read?"

(1) story one - a bird told me to wait

The first thing I considered was to make it completely self-indulging. The second was to make it as evocative as possible, not only telling what was happening. I like sensations and emotions, so I really wanted to write things I would like to feel as a reader. I wrote this story, and after that, I added a second longer part because I was enjoying it a lot. I used to doodle about the characters and make small annotations about their dynamics, but there wasn't really a lot of planning here.

(2) story two - beneath the moonlight

My second attempt was a three-chapter story (not so distant from the previous one that can be read as three parts too). But for this one, I wanted to challenge myself because I wanted to explore new themes and tropes, so I made a brief list of the things that should appear here. (but honestly, I just wanted to write a soft mating bite scene lmao, because I was super into a/b/o at that time.) I used keep notes app this time.

I barely showed explicit themes here but I got to enjoy the story anyway. This one wasn't difficult to write because I felt familiar with the characters. It's a light story but these 20k words gave me the courage to take a step further. I said to myself

"stop being a coward. you have enjoyed this. keep writing."

(3) story three - lucid dreams

This one was planned for four or five chapters, quite in the same line as beneath the moonlight. But, and the keyword is planned, it became a full 13 chapters as I developed the story and the characters. If I wanted it to be coherent then I needed to explain the things, build the context, and introduce the world. But it was also an experimental work. I took my notebook and listed the new things I wanted to try, such as - write in past tense - write first and edit later

my process was something like this • imagine random scenarios with pretty imagery as I listened to music • doodling the characters doing things so I didn't forget • open the notes app to write random sentences and dialogues in the middle of the night, I'll find a place for them later • dream about the story and daydream about the story

as for the physical notebook, I have scribbled A LOT there during the writing process.

(a little bit chaotic but functional enough)

One thing I wanted to keep in mind was the evolution of the characters, or in other words, how they were gonna be at the start and the end of the story. And this made things a lot simpler because it gave me an insight that was helpful whenever I had to decide what kind of decisions the characters would make along the story.

Parallelly, I was aware of my narrative flaws, as well as there was a lot of vocabulary and grammar that would escape me in a different language. So I used the notebook to do writing research. Some of my pages were like "how to write action scenes," or "tips for flat scenes." Whenever I felt blocked I read again these pages.

I'm going to copy down here some tips that were useful during the writing block days.

• read another book or fic you like, since sometimes, getting yourself caught by another writer's style can help you to flow through your own. • scroll on pinterest and try to find pictures that capture the vibe of your story, maybe try to describe them or setting a scene in a similar environment that you can see? • changing the setting (for example, day to night, or sun to rain) can add more variants and ambiental tools to play with. • or, changing the character's pov. maybe a scene feels flat because it's narrated by the wrong character. • use objects, not just the characters.

(4) finishing a story

To have an insight into the plot, I wrote the main scenes in really short sentences. That was useful for the first chapters, but suddenly I had 70K words of the story and a lot of details to track. Frequently I had to split chapters into two parts because the "short sentence" became a very long scene. See this comparison: the scenes' guide in the last chapters usually are fragmented into shorter scenes. That's how I avoided losing my mind as I wrote (?)

These are a few tips that were useful to me during this last part.

• write the important plot points as they are mentioned so you can come back to them later and don't forget about them. • keep a scrip to annotate significant things about the characters to make the story consistent. • notion pages is a great place to make inspo boards (usually I added 4 pictures for each scene). During the last chapter, I used the to-do list tool to keep track of the closed story points and the things that were yet to happen • list some of your favourite past scenes, those that have been nice to write, so you can pursue the same vibe again.

The last two months writing the fic I joined the nanowrimo to keep myself motivated but also to have an impulse. My only goal was getting the habit of writing everyday, not minding how many words (usually it was around 400-600 daily). I ended that month with 16k added on my wordcount (to me, that was a lot!). Since I enjoyed that little challenge, I did the same on the next month, resulting in finishing the fic :)

The most important thing during this time was remembering myself from time to time why I am doing this. Let me say I am an utter perfectionist, so I would easily get trapped in making-the-story-perfect, which would end in a writing block. So each time this happened I repeated to myself that I didn't want to write a good story. I just wanted to enjoy and have fun while writing a story, so I should write only things I enjoy. And this simple thing was incredibly helpful whenever I wasn't able to continue a scene.

I think that this is what most writers say, but now I have come to understand that it's true: just have fun. Write what you wanna read.

(5) the next story - requiem of the sleepless

This would be the third part of my first fic. I miss these unhinged boys and I have a little draft of (unholy) things I want to happen to them! Now I want to unlearn everything I know. I want this story to be zero planned, I just want to ~feel~ the characters and make a lot of random things happen. This is about not forgetting why I started, so here I am again.

Being a non-writer writing.

thank you for reading ♡ 

[fatefulfaerie]

Huge congrats on 1k! Well deserved.

For the prompt: I'm gonna be vague and say Navi + BOTW. Interpret how you will!

Sorry this took so long! I hope you like it!

“You’ve never seen a fairy?” Link asked in his awkward mid-pubescent voice. Humility, honor, and politeness were things of the future, the question asked almost criticizing.

His friend shrugged, a fellow page who was two years his junior at eleven years old.

“I’ve heard of them,” the youth countered as he munched on his sandwich, a mash of Hylian Bass in between two slices of bread.

As haughty as Link was about his experience, his ability to boast a leg up on his fellow pages and squires as if he were a seasoned knight, he was nowhere near as bad as Althar.

Althar was only a year older than Link, but his status as a fourteen year old made him a squire, and gave him an annoying conceit. Link took pride in things he could boast about, but Althar would go out of his way to make sure any conversation was one he butted into, and came out the hero of.

“Finding fairies is nothing,” Althar said, casually leaning against one of the wooden scaffoldings of the training grounds, “the pink ones anyway.”

“Here we go,” Link mumbled under his breath, scooping seafood paella into his mouth. His slight look at his younger friend didn’t stop the youth from turning around with intrigue.

“There are other colors?” he asked with enthusiasm.

“Oh, tons,” Althar replied. “A whole rainbow of colors, yellow, green, purple.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Link forewarned, almost sing-songingly.

“But,” Althar continued. “They only appear to true heroes, you know.” He slapped and gripped his own biceps. “Strong ones, not little uh…well…toothpicks.”

Link didn’t need to look up to know Althar was referring to him.

“How many non-pink fairies have you seen?” Link asked with a smile as the rice filled his belly.

“It’s not about numbers,” Althar said. “Not about numbers at all. You know that’s the first thing they teach you when you become a squire. Humility. I’m not one to brag, that’s for sure.”

Link shook his head as he looked up at his friend. 

“Humility,” Link said, “that’ll be the day.”

Their lunch hour ended with a holler from their commanding officer, which ensued a scramble of various boys and girls aged 7 to 16 to line up in order of height. All of their right arms were bent in salute, except for two of the younger ones who were newer and thus had their left arm up. Sometimes Link pitied them. They had a fifty percent chance of guessing the correct arm and it just wasn’t their day.

They struggled with the obstacle course too, and Link would have thought they were far too young to begin training if it weren’t for the fact that he too was seven years old when he started.

His father, an otherwise inconsequential knight stationed in Necluda, saved the King’s life one day. The King granted him a favor in appreciation of his heroism.

“Anything,” the crowned gentleman had said, the single word having such a power to it that Link’s father knew he better not waste it. Three years later, his wife died in childbirth, and the baby’s seven year-old brother was unruly and difficult to manage. Link was from then on trained alongside the sons and daughters of the very best knights, though he was besting knights in his father’s quadrant ever since he was four.

“At ease,” the commander said. 

He began to give instructions for their afternoon of training, but Link didn’t hear a word of it, his brow bending as a fairy landed on the man’s shoulder.

And it was a glowing blue.

Of all the people to break protocol and brag about this sighting, Althar surely would, but Link looked over and the squire was as bored as can be. Link’s eyes danced in confusion.

Surely, he was going crazy.

Link watched with enchanted eyes as the fairy floated off and away towards Korok Forest, disappearing into the mist that surrounded it.

“Link?” He heard the commander ask. Link didn’t even realize he had taken a step away. “Where are you going? I’m not finished.”

Link stammered an apology and shook his head to rid himself of whatever craze had overcome him. His father had told him that soldiers sometimes hallucinated. Was that what this was?

For the first hour of training after, there was a faint blue light beckoning him, ebbing like a heartbeat, some living force that urged wordlessly. Link waited until someone else was being reprimanded - it was always a scene - to sneak away into the forbidden fog.

He figured he was going crazy, compelled to break the rules in such a way. His father would slap him upside the head if he saw him now, a thirteen-year-old inching into a forest that only knights with a lifetime of service braved. He had heard tales of fog, that with a child’s laugh ushered you into the realms of Hylia, or worse, the mere unknown. People lost to the forest are said to never come back. Link suspected it was just a tale for children and this proved it. There wasn’t the slightest lick of fog. The forest was clear and shining with green-filtered sunlight, and the blue fairy led him further and further in.

The brush underneath his feet only whispered with the disturbance Link brought into the forest, as if his presence wasn’t a disturbance at all. His father once taught him that the wild world around them was not one to play with or to harm, that it breathed just like the people who lived in it. And, for some reason, that breath was guiding him to golden clearing, winds still and calm, with an adult-sized sword beckoning him closer. 

Link;s finger’s slowly swirl to clasp the blue hilt of a sword that, perhaps by some trick of the sunlight, gleamed otherworldly. The thirteen year-old pulled upwards with an ageless curiosity, not knowing of the era of calamity it would usher this age Hyrule into.

[jasonsscar]

The Ingenuine-ness of The Trials of Apollo - an Essay

As someone who has been following every Percy Jackson release since 2012 when Mark of Athena was released, I almost cannot believe it has come to an end. After fifteen books with five books across three series, it has come to an end with Rick Riordan closing the world as we know it (while leaving room for a possible stand alone novel or two in the future). Although I have had my qualms with the Heroes of Olympus story, I was willing to give the Trials of Apollo a chance to redeem itself and allow myself to continue this journey one last time. Upon reading the Tower of Nero, I felt as if the journey did not fully come to a close, due to many factors but the main factor being how Rick Riordan has chosen to not write a story he was passionate about but because he would have rather wrote a story he was hoping to make money off of.

Frankly putting it, Trials of Apollo felt like a rip-off of what Riordan wanted to be Percy Jackson and the Olympians 2.0, but reminding the audience that it was 2.0 constantly. The cameos just so happened to be the only thing that his audience seemed to ever be looking forward to every book and Riordan knew this. Plenty of interviews that he did as each book got released, Rick Riordan has always had a point of bringing up who was going to be making an appearance in each book. The Hidden Oracle was Percy Jackson and the rest of Camp Half-Blood. The Dark Prophecy had the appearance of Leo Valdez and Calypso. The Burning Maze had the addition of Grover Underwood (who the audience hasn’t seen since The Last Olympian), Jason Grace and Piper McLean. The Tyrant’s Tomb had Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arrelano, the Hunters of Artemis and the rest of Camp Jupiter. The Tower of Nero had the appearance of all of the characters in one way or another. Overall, there were very few characters who were new to the series. Even Apollo, who is considered a “fan-favorite” god among the fans is not an original character to this series, having been introduced in Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Titan’s Curse. Nothing felt new and fresh and it is clear that Riordan is clinging onto these old faces that have enraptured his audience in the past to keep them holding onto this new series.

Although the characters were not the only problems that lead to the Trials of Apollo being as unpassionate as it feels. The plot overall was rather predictable from the beginning, hinting to the audience where it was going to lead to by the time the audience arrived at the Tower of Nero, the final book. Though, a fair argument could be set up that a larger scheme was at play within this series. The Hidden Oracle, the first book within the series, sets up that a company by the name of Triumvirate Holdings is trying to take control of all the oracles. Though, upon learning this information, the audience also learns about some information that is linked to the Percy Jackson and the Olympians books from none other than Rachel Elizabeth Dare herself: “... during the Titan War, Luke Castellan mentioned he had backers in the mortal world? They had enough money to buy a cruise ship, helicopters, weapons. They even hired mortal mercenaries… That cruise ship, the Princess Andromeda, was property of Triumvirate Holdings” (The Hidden Oracle 197-198). Just reading this scene alone could get long time readers to believe that something more was coming. The ending to the series was really coming, this could almost be the ending to wars in general, no more battles or even the ideas of quests because they could no longer be funded by this company. Sadly, that was not what happened, rather the plot becomes dry. It follows a direct sequence of events not getting as complicated as it had been in the Heroes of Olympus series (although, Riordan has since learned the Heroes of Olympus was definitely out of his comfort level as an author). 

This of course leads to how the Trials of Apollo as a whole ended. In the Tower of Nero the antagonists, Emperor Nero and Python, have been defeated. After conquering the many trials and the major quests he has been sent cross country to do, Apollo has finally returned to his rightful throne on Olympus, though, feeling out of place after what he had endured in the last six months. With the series having ended and Apollo having learned some valuable lessons during his time as a mortal, a lot feels unanswered. After the ending of the Last Olympian where Percy Jackson asked the gods to listen to their children and maybe take responsibility for some of their actions, they did not change. In the Heroes of Olympus, the gods were asked again to do this, take some responsibility, praise their children yet nothing happened. In the Trials of Apollo, Apollo himself comments on this when he says: “I suppose I could have raged at him and called him bad names… But it would not have changed him. It would not have made anything different between us. You cannot change a tyrant by trying to out-ugly him” (The Tower of Nero 377). This pegs the question, why only change one god’s perspective of mortal lives? The gods still have their issues, everything could have been resolved but was not. The book ends with the possibility of a stand-alone novel with Nico di Angelo and Will Solace after receiving news about a new prophecy for the two of them. Riordan will not close this series and the problems that could be fixed because he knows that it closes off all possibilities for him to continue and make more profit off of it.

Overall, while the Percy Jackson Chronicles as a whole is a rather fun read, I cannot help to be disappointed with the outcome of where the series stands as a whole. It has ended but it never really feels as if Riordan wants it to end. Some can argue that it is because some worlds never end. There is so much to discover but if that is the case, where is the close off then? Where is the satisfaction to the readers who have dedicated so much time and energy for this series? At some point, fans will grow tired and not be as passionate as they once were, because they will no longer feel that same passion in the words written. Instead they will begin to sense how the author is simply writing this all as a gamble for himself and to raise the already large sum amount of money he makes for the books he has written and sold.

Works Cited

Riordan, Rick. The Hidden Oracle. Disney-Hyperion, 2017.

Riordan, Rick. The Tower of Nero. Disney-Hyperion, 2020.

[beneathashadytree]

hello love, I hope you’re doing well! I just want to let you know I am absolutely in love with your writing style. it’s always such a pleasure to read and I truly enjoy everything I read off your page. thank you for blessing us with your talents! your page is one of my favorites.

that being said, I have a request for a jotaro kujo x female reader. the storyline would be set during the events of part four, during morioh shenanigans.

jotaro has an old friend who had joined the crew during stardust crusaders (a rocker chick with an idgaf attitude). who absolutely hated jotaro (the way he disrespected women, the way he treated others, etc, etc) and joined the crusaders for the sole purpose of proving she was more of an asset than jotaro. during which they bickered nonstop, (literally the nastiest arguments, name calling, etc). only when it came to fighting dio they worked together to get it done and ended up putting their differences aside to become friends. clearly there’s romantic tension there, but despite a few friendly moments nothing comes of the feelings and they set off. ( they’re basically rivals turned friends, but she still likes to piss him off for fun).

years later she gets a call from jotaro asking for her help in morioh, which she very sarcastically accepts. upon her arrival their relationship is more of a sarcastic banter. (her sarcastic witty comments solely to annoy jotaro and him huffing and gruffing). but their feelings quickly return and there’s so much tension. like, awkward tension that neither of them can deny and the entire morioh gang can point it out. finally, they have a heart to heart - and very awkwardly open up to one another over a bottle of booze. they seal it with a kiss, and shenanigans ensue.

TEN YEARS - JOTARO KUJO X READER

Warnings : lots of curse words, misogyny from 17 year-old Jotaro, implications of death, I changed a couple of minor details in canon to fit this, this is not proofread at all, reader uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : fluff with some angst I think

Word count : 4.5K words (oops!)

Additional notes : Aaaaa thank you so so much for your sweet words! I’m so happy to hear that you enjoy my writing. I feel so flattered by your kindness! In all honesty, this request goes against my requesting rules🫣 The length required for such a heavily detailed, canon-non-compliant request means writing no less than 4K words (that’s after skimming over some points too😭), which is the typical length of a ficlet, not a oneshot (which ranges from 1K to 2.5K words). I’m sorry to say this but I have stopped taking requests for ficlets over a year ago🫠 I did feel terrible, however, not taking this request, since you’d been so sweet and nice about it. But please be sure to check out my rules and guidelines before requesting! I like to stick to them to prevent a burnout, and to make sure that I don’t end up taking too long writing one piece only. Nevertheless, I thank you very much for the unique idea. I really hope you like this! 💗💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp.

Masterlist

“So you called me up, just to bring me to your hotel room?” She raised her eyebrow, before tossing her bag onto one of the two chairs by the window. “See, that wasn’t the sort of ‘help’ I had in mind when I’d accepted your invitation.”

Dr. Kujo—or as she knew him to be, Jotaro—could do nothing but roll his eyes. She’d always liked to make a flashy entrance, with more than a few choice words ready on the tip of her tongue.

“I don’t want to know what you’ve pictured.” He sighed, moving from where he stood by the mahogany desk. “Have you heard from Polnareff recently?”

“A little.” She shrugged, a little stiffly, as though the idea of thinking of their troupe back in Egypt wasn’t something she liked to entertain. Crossing her legs, she watched as he pulled something from his jacket. “Last I heard, he was looking for Dio’s arrows, but that’s about it.”

He handed her what looked like a photograph. Squinting her eyes a little, she tried to make out just what she was seeing. “Now, I’m sure seeing me all cross-eyed has you shaking in your boots with excitement, but—“

Jotaro only huffed, a small impatient noise that she’d barely heard. At that, she quirked her eyebrow. That was rather odd. She’d come to get used to his snarky, biting remarks that left no one unscathed—least of all a woman.

“Gone soft, have you? I’d thought you’d have my ass the very second I opened my mouth,” she grinned wickedly, as Jotaro glanced away for a second.

Good. She’d always liked it when he was too flustered to say anything.

Her happiness didn’t last long though. Clearing his throat, his gaze didn’t meet hers and instead focused on the photograph in her hand. “‘s not like you were short in comebacks for everything.”

To her admittance, she felt a spark of irritation. “Well, don’t expect me to sit back and take it. If you had a stick lodged up your ass, that wasn’t any of my business.”

“I’m not here to fight over stuff that happened ten years ago,” he firmly said, before his shoulders relaxed and his voice grew a little quieter, though he remained expressionless. “I was under the impression that we’d… gotten along decently near the end.”

“If you’re trying to say we were friends by the time we faced off Dio, then alright, I’d say we might have been, by a very loose definition of the word.”

A very, very loose definition, given how they’d started out and how they’d ended up.

***

Her family had always been a quaint one, especially by the modern Japanese standards. Rock music had come in a wave that hit her father, and his passion for the genre had infected her, to the extent that it manifested in her stand, Flick of the Wrist, which was her special Rickenbacker bass that could deal serious damage to her opponents eardrums by strumming at too low a frequency.

She’d often gotten stared at by others her age, especially during high school, when she’d hit the arcades on the weekend in her clothes that always garnered attention. Perhaps they’d feared anything that was different—though that fear mixed with respect whenever they stared at Jotaro, who was just as odd by their standards.

Loathe she was to admit just how petty she had been, she truly did despise Jotaro from the very first moment she’d met him during orientation day. She’d never gone out of her way to speak to someone who constantly looked like they had a ten foot pole lodged up their ass, but she’d observed the way he’d interacted with the other students—or rather, the way he hadn’t interacted with them.

His brisk and cold demeanor wasn’t just off-putting, but it also at times turned extremely disrespectful. Overhearing him yelling insults at the girls who fawned over him every morning was what solidified that image of him in her head, and she wasn’t too keen on changing her mind: Jotaro Kujo was a misogynistic asshole, who’d die alone. It was entirely his fault that when he’d injured both her and that new kid Kakyoin, she’d retaliated and flipped him off, before threatening to leave his ears bleeding and useless. Definitely not her personal dislike for him at play.

Though she’d been an intruder in his home at the time, the dire situation she’d found him in had only garnered him a bit of sympathy from her—and not for himself, but for his poor mother who’d had nothing to do with the whole affair with that Dio person.

When she’d suggested to his grandfather, Joseph that she join in on their travels as an additional stand user to their arsenal, Jotaro’s glower had been murderous. “A bitch like her would get us all killed the moment we step out of Japan,” he’d said, with no more than a glance at her as he turned away. But before he could leave amidst Avdol’s horrified protests, she’d called him a “miserable, pathetic bitch-boy”; something he hadn’t taken kindly to, if him rolling up his sleeves was anything to go by.

Kakyoin had interrupted them before things could escalate into a fist fight they were both more than willing to participate in, but as they’d went on their journey, it seemed more than apparent that both she and Jotaro could never be civil towards each other. Jotaro, with all his pretense of maturity and cool-headedness, often opposed her ideas for no good reason, just wanting to prove how much of an idiot she was to their companions. With the way she wanted to show the others just how superior she was as a fighter, and how she was no sniveling kid that needed rescuing, she always butted heads with him the moment he opened his mouth to speak.

Neither of them seemed to care about holding themselves back from cussing each other out, the vilest insults being spat back and forth. She’d never been one to sit back and take disrespect, but to the others, seeing Jotaro so riled up was something rather surprising. Avdol, ever the pacifist, had a hard time choosing between scolding them both and just sighing in defeat as he watched from the sidelines.

In a surprising turn of events, it was Joseph who’d given them a wake up call. “This pettiness will only end up as a weakness that Dio will definitely exploit.” He’d sounded uncharacteristically stern, his usual grin replaced by a deep-set scowl. “Neither of you will be getting anything done at this rate. If you can’t even pretend to like each other, at the very least put in some effort to work together.”

And so, biting the insides of their cheeks and not-so-subtly exchanging looks of disdain, they’d begun the irksome process of biting back their tongues in the presence of each other. With their respective stands, she could momentarily cause enough panic and auditory pain to distract the enemy while Jotaro beat them to a bloody pulp. The key to doing that was fast reflexes, which both of them thankfully had in abandon. With their brains, it didn’t take very long for them to figure out this strategy.

As much as she thought of him a brute, there was little she could complain about concerning him when it came to fighting. Jotaro had proven time and time again that his brash fighting styles weren’t entirely irrational, and the delicate accuracy of her Flick of the Wrist meshed well with Star Platinum’s sheer power. Perhaps it was the satisfaction of seeing their efforts come to fruition with stand users at their feet, or maybe it was the fact that they were both more inclined to listen to each other’s advice when they were putting their lives on the line, but soon enough they weren’t constantly bickering like cats and dogs did.

Instead, there came a mutual understanding; a sense of peace whenever they could glance at each other and nod, before setting off according to plan. She had found herself offering to switch patrol with him when he looked a little worse for wear, and retrieved his beloved hat whenever it got blasted off mid-fight, watching as he’d used it to hide his flush. Though still a little tactless with his words, Jotaro had draped his jacket over her shivering form many a time at night, and had silently bandaged her ripped wounds when she could no longer hide her hisses of pain.

By the time they’d turned up at Dio’s mansion, she’d known that she could no longer say she hated him. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything worse than brief annoyance towards him, and instead she’d found herself wishing she could just take a break from it all and sit with him in peace. They could talk about whatever they think of without any restraints, or they could relish in the silence that envelopes them, just comforted by each other’s existence in the same bubble.

It had sparked something akin to fondness; something she couldn’t dare think of deciphering; something that had warmth pooling in her belly every time she looked at him as he bravely stood his ground, unrelenting (and then she would be hit, once again, with the reminder that they were both just 17 year-olds at the end of the day, and tossed in a world they don’t quite belong in).

In front of the intimidating mansion that would spell out their future, she’d known that things would change forever, regardless of what would happen as soon as they’d stepped across the threshold. And so she’d turned, facing those piercing sea-green eyes that were lit with something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“You know what, Jotaro?” she’d breathed in, clenching her hands into fists as a small smirk made its way onto her face, “I think I’m starting to find you pretty tolerable.”

He’d raised his eyebrow at that, his lips quirking upwards in a small, barely perceptible smile. “That’s news to me.” His tone was light, but she knew that he knew that she was underplaying how she truly felt. He just went along with it, his arm brushing hers. “Well, I don’t think I find you that annoying.”

“Ah, fuck, guess I’m losing my touch.”

“Good grief…”

And then they’d taken the steps forward that could never be undone. No matter how much they’d wish it, no matter how many nightmares it would bring, and no matter how often they tortured themselves with thoughts of the ones they’d left behind, souls drifting in between, they could never turn back time.

From then on, they’d barely spared each other a second glance on the way back. The wounds were too fresh, and the scars unhealing. Perhaps that was the disadvantage of having understood each other that well; they’d known it was unlikely that either of them would be able to face the other without feeling overexposed. So that was how they’d separated in Japan, hearts aching but faces never betraying how they’d felt at the moment. The radio silence that came afterwards was equal parts unnerving and a blessing.

***

So then why did sitting there in the Grand Morioh Hotel room feel like a death sentence?

She could see with her own two eyes how much Jotaro had changed, inside out. The beautiful eyes she’d remembered as being challenging were wisened and even somewhat exhausted, and his figure was a lot slimmer than she recalled it being. His outfits might’ve been brighter, but he seemed all the more duller in them. It was a bit of a reality check; ten years truly had passed.

Perhaps the bitterness she’d felt seconds ago was due to how they’d left things. She felt as though there was much unsaid, and wasn’t sure if it was only on her end.

Still, it wasn’t fair on him. How she felt, at the very least, was her own responsibility and not his. It wasn’t his fault she’d been too cowardly to speak up at the time. But still, would she call them friends?

It didn’t matter at the moment. She cleared her throat. “Anyways, what’s the deal with Dio’s arrows?”

“A couple of them went awry on the town’s residents. Many have had stand awakenings, and not all with the best intentions.” Jotaro paused, before pointing at the blurry photograph in her hand. “It’s not very clear, but this man is one we’re hunting down at the moment. He’s a stand user, and we’ve had our suspicions that he’s actually a serial killer underneath all that shitty fancy fabric.”

“You’re one to talk about fancy fabric, Mr. I-wear-10K-yen-pants-in-the-desert,” she mumbled under her breath, before leaning in and trying to take a better look. The picture was taken from the back and mid-action, so she could barely make out what he looked like with his head turned to the side. His most distinguishing feature was the striking salt and pepper hair that wasn’t exactly common in the way it looked so obviously dyed. “Okay, he seems pretty conspicuous, so why haven’t you been able to catch him?”

“Lack of evidence.” He took the photograph back, before briefly removing his hat and ruffling back his curls, a troubled look flashing in his eyes as he set the hat down again. “That, and the fact that the situation is pretty… complicated.”

Somehow, she understood the hidden meaning lingering beneath his words. “Too many lives at stake?”

Jotaro hummed in confirmation, picking up a white bag from the vanity beside her and shouldering it. “Come, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Though she briefly hesitated, she nodded and went along with him.

***

She didn’t know what she’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t a teenage boy with features nearly identical to Jotaro’s—uncannily so. She’d have called them father and son, if he hadn’t looked a little too old for that.

“That’s my, uh, uncle I guess, Josuke.”

A confused look made its way on her face as she looked back and forth between Jotaro and the boy. “Huh? Don’t you mean the other way around?”

He looked exhausted as he shook his head, “Apparently, Joseph’s his father, so that makes him my uncle despite being 16.”

She blinked, a hand on her hips as she leaned back. “I don’t know what family dynamic this is, and I’m not sure I want to find out.”

“I didn’t know you knew pretty babes, Jotaro. Were you keeping her a secret from us?” the boy interrupted, a cheeky grin on his face, clearly trying to appear charming (which was a little hard to achieve, given that his pompadour haircut was more than a couple of decades out of style).

Smirking, she spared the exasperated-looking marine biologist a glance, before looking back at Josuke. “Just one babe, not plural. I’m probably the only chick Jotaro’s ever interacted with.”

Josuke looked confused. “What? I’m pretty sure he was married at some point.”

She looked momentarily horrified, eyes wide as saucers. “Married?!”

The teenager awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, and he’s got a 7 year-old daughter. Her name’s Jolyne—“

“Daughter?!” She whipped her head to Jotaro, disbelief written all over her face, “Are you fucking with me? Were you not planning on mentioning any of this?”

“Good grief,” Jotaro sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhaled through it, “I was married. Past tense. We got divorced a few years after having Jolyne. She’s currently with her mother in Florida.”

“Florida…” she weakly repeated, struck with the realization that she truly knew nothing about the Jotaro in front of her. Though now, things made a little more sense than they did before. The reason why he’d mellowed out must’ve owed to the fact that he’d fallen in love and had a daughter over the years. Both had softened his sharp edges, it seemed, but it certainly caused a pang in her chest as she wondered if he’d ever even felt the same about her back then; after all, it seemed odd that he’d get over her that fast, if she’d done the math correctly and calculated the timeline right.

All she could do was nod, before turning back to Josuke. “Seeing as you’re the old man’s son, you’re probably a stand user, right?”

He looked a little surprised. “You know about them? Do you have one too?”

With a quick swish of her arm, she pulled out Flick of the Wrist that had been slung around her back. “If I strum this bad boy, you’ll be bleeding out from your ears before you can say “damn bitch”—which I assure you, your dearest nephew has called me multiple times.”

“That was then…” Jotaro gruffly said, before shaking his head, as if to say that he wasn’t even going to bother explaining himself. “Anyways, about our suspect…”

***

It quickly became an almost-daily thing; she and Jotaro would leave the hotel (where he’d actually booked her a room, a fact that had both surprised her and made her a little happier than she’d care to admit), meet up with Josuke and a couple of his friends that often tagged along, and discuss their strategy. They’d need to rely on Rohan, something Josuke was more than a little miffed by.

Okuyasu and Koichi were nice enough kids, but they didn’t seem to worry their heads too much. They trusted in the combined stand power of the three of them, which was equal parts heartwarming and naïve.

And Jotaro was… well, Jotaro. He was always that odd mix of enigmatic and straightforward; of unnerving and comforting; of frustrating and amusing. She’d catch him watching the Morioh teens with a half-smile that, a decade ago, he would’ve normally never let show on his face, and she’d grin back at him. “Getting all mushy on me, Dr. Kujo?” she’d say every time, only for him to tell her to shut up without a single ounce of malice.

She’d be lying if she said that she didn’t fear for him. Jotaro’s Star Platinum’s power was almost absolute, especially once The World was activated, but she still feared that it would catch up to him someday. Karmic retribution was very much real, but did it work on people who did seemingly-horrible stuff for the greater good?

“What’s wrong?”

Speak (or in this case, think) of the devil and he appears. Facing him as they stood in Josuke’s front lawn, she allowed herself to express her weariness. “Just thinking a little. Any news from the pissy mangaka?”

“Rohan’s gonna confront the kid. Something’s wrong with that family, but we don’t know what.” Jotaro looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him, and that was saying something. With bags under his eyes and his curls ruffled beneath his hat, he looked like he was carrying the burdens of the whole world.

She gave him a pointed look. “Really? You’re talking about odd families?”

He glared at her, but she saw no actual anger behind it. His gaze returned to Okuyasu, who was currently being held in a headlock after getting caught cheating on Josuke in a particularly enthusiastic game of cards. “Anyways, we don’t want to potentially endanger someone innocent. His family’s probably unaware, but the kid probably knows something.”

“I hate hearing about kids who’ve been burdened with the knowledge of something bigger than them,” she mumbled under her breath, a little darkness underlying in her expression. When Jotaro turned back to her, he stared at her for a couple of seconds, trying to figure something out.

“You mean like us back then.” He wasn’t asking, he simply stated it. Meeting his eyes was a lot more difficult this time, but she did all the same. Something heavy lingered in them, and she felt herself compelled to lean in closer. Jotaro simply let her, his own eyes darkening. There was something she had to see, but she didn’t know what—all she knew was that getting a closer look at him was something she desperately needed.

“You’d always been braver than you should’ve been,” she murmured, her eyes flickering to his full lips for a moment. Jotaro himself had dipped his head a little closer to hers, before—

“Hey lovebirds, quit it with the PDA! We need you here as refs!” Josuke’s yell came from behind them, causing them to snap backwards and hurriedly shift back to their places. Whatever that was—and she was sure that she hadn’t imagined it this time—could wait.

***

Rohan had set the date. Tomorrow they’d be putting the plan in motion, because waiting any longer only meant that they’d be risking the lives of every resident of Morioh for another day. As a form of celebration, as soon as they’d gotten back to the hotel, she’d suggested they lounge in Jotaro’s room with a couple of beers. He hadn’t protested, but he hadn’t seemed particularly enthusiastic. Maybe he still remembered how she was when she was drunk; shitfaced after guzzling just one beer can.

When she made it inside, she was a little surprised to find that the lights had been dimmed, casting warm shadows across the walls. Instead of the hotel beer cans that she’d expected to find, she found a bottle of wine and two glasses set on the small table by the window.

“Splurging all that scientist money, I see.” She raised her eyebrow, taking a seat and exhaling in relaxation as she did.

Jotaro poured the wine into their glasses, but certainly not without correcting her. “Marine biologist.”

“Doesn’t matter as long as you’re loaded,” she chuckled, only waiting for him to sit in front of her before taking a sip. “This is good. Looks a little odd though.”

“Zinfandel rose wine. There’s a hint of strawberry in that.” He took a sip, a satisfied hum escaping the back of his throat as he did, and she struggled to look away from his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy our last night.”

“Already putting me to the grave? You’ll have to work harder to get rid of me.” A flustered sound so uncharacteristic to him left his lips, and it seemed that it took him a couple of seconds to realize that she was only teasing him. “Don’t worry, I know you meant our last night in Morioh. Hopefully.”

They lapsed into silence, contemplative looks on each of their faces. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the other was thinking of.

“They do remind me of us.” Jotaro’s voice was a lot gruffer when he said that. Perhaps it was just him trying to put up a tough front as he always had.

“Yeah, with significantly less clinically insane vampires, though,” she snorted, swirling the remains of the pink alcohol in her glass.

“Glad we both got rid of the last of those.” Jotaro sounded amused as he reached out to refill their glasses. “Not really sure if it was worth teaming up with you for a whole damn month.”

“Ha!” she chortled, downing half the glass in one gulp before setting it down with a challenging look in her eyes. “You definitely liked me back then.”

He went quiet for a moment, before softly speaking up again. “I did.”

Freezing in place, she gaped at him. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I had feelings for you back then,” he slowly said, brilliant bright eyes meeting hers and pinning her in place.

Her shoulders drooped and her fingers fell from the wine glass. “Well then why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Jotaro almost looked incredulous as he asked, “Was there ever a time for that?” She looked away as he set down his glass too. “We were on a bit of fucking tight schedule.”

“Fine, that’s understandable, but what about after we got to Japan?”

Now it was his turn to look sheepish. “I thought you’d never want to talk to me again. Partially because you hadn’t forgiven me for how I used to be at the start, and partially because you wanted to forget all about the trip.”

“But not about you,” she swallowed thickly, the emotions she’d repressed all these years swelling inside her and threatening to burst, “Because I liked you too, you fucking Neanderthal,” she choked out a laugh, as Jotaro looked nothing short of stunned. “I was too busy wondering why the fuck I wanted to kiss you senseless back then when we were finally getting along well.”

“How was I supposed to know that…” he mumbled weakly, before emptying the glass in one shot. He somehow looked tired and yet also more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, and the fact caused the same swell of affection to bubble in her chest, the warmth spreading to her limbs.

“I thought I was being a little obvious.”

Jotaro shook his head. “If you were, I wouldn’t have thought I had to marry my college friend to get over you, would I?”

So that explained the sudden marriage. It made far more sense (and honestly hurt way less) than believing she’d meant nothing more to him than an ally; someone he’d forgotten overnight. Because only the heavens knew just how impossible he’d made it to forget him—every snarky remark, every witty comeback, every gentle touch, and every ounce of faith in her had made her think of him every night she’d spent on her own, willing the clock to turn back its hands. Eventually, her wistfulness had morphed into a bitter feeling sinking in her chest, and she could no longer afford thinking of him so fondly; not when she still wasn’t over him while he’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

But now? Now Jotaro’s wine-stained lips were inviting in the warm dim lighting of the room. Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed him taking off his hat and setting it down, ebony curls falling forward and painting him as the picture of enticement. Maybe back when they’d first met she’d disliked him too much to pay it any mind, but Jotaro really had the looks that made her breath catch in her throat. And now that she knew just how tender his sea-green eyes could get when looking at someone, she found him particularly enchanting.

Before she’d even noticed it, she was leaning in across the small table. “If I kissed you now, would I be making my feelings obvious enough?”

If the small smile on his face wasn’t a clear enough invitation, then his hand pushing his drained wine glass out of the way was more than enough of a confirmation.

Resting her weight against the small table, she leaned in so close she could clearly see his thick eyelashes, and he closed the remaining distance between them as her eyes fluttered shut. The first thought in her mind was, ‘Holy fuck, does he taste sweet.’ She didn’t know if it was the wine on his lips, or if he was just a naturally brilliant kisser, but she knew she’d be damned if she ever forgot how kissing him felt. Teasingly, she nipped at his full lower lip, reveling in the deep sound of pleasure that escaped him, and in the way his hand snuck to the back of her neck to pull her in for a deeper kiss.

Much to their mutual disappointment, they soon had to part for air. Breathing heavily, they must’ve both looked positively hypnotized, if she went by the way they were both staring at each other.

“Think you might want to do that again,” he mumbled against her warm skin, thumbing her lips in a daring move she’d never have expected from him.

“What?” she breathily asked, more dazed by the mindblowing kiss than she’d like to admit.

“To make your feelings obvious. Kiss me again.”

And with her trembling hands and eager mouth, she was more than happy to oblige. After all, there was 10 years-worth of waiting to put into motion.

Taglist: @mrsgiovanna @blondeboyfriend @boorishbrambling

[jiminschanelearring]

Rating: T

Genre: smut(none in this Drabble), non idol au, angst if you squint

Warning: none

Word Count: 1k

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Note: It’s finally done and unedited. Sorry!

“I don’t see why we have to be up at 3 am, Y/n” Jimin groaned while sipping his steaming coffee. “We know you’re going to do well during your speech.” You paced feverishly, your stomach doing somersaults as you ignored Jimin’s pleas. “Please, can you just listen to me one more time?” You sigh, collecting your notes once more. Jimin sluggishly nods.

This was your first presentation at your company’s annual work summit and you were a bundle of nerves with each passing minute but Jimin didn’t understand that. In his eyes, it would be the same as presented in your typical workplace but it was wrong. Because now, Jungkook will see you in action. He would see you in front of a podium by your lonesome- spewing whatever information you retained to give an exceptional presentation that you, your colleagues, and your boss would thoroughly be impressed by.

You and Jimin spent a few more hours reciting your notes while Jimin asked questions. Things were going great until he accidentally bumped into the table, wasting coffee on your notes. Everything happened instantly: the table slamming against the wall, the pot of coffee soaking into your notes, and the internal dread that fills your body when you salvage the delicate papers. Jimin’s rushed apologies were sounded out by blood rushing to your ears. 12 hours’ worth of material down the drain and you couldn’t be mad at anyone but yourself. Maybe you did overdo it?

“Min, it’s okay. I know it was only an accident. I’ll clean this up.” you reassured.

“But ___-“ Jimin’s eyes held this worrisome appeal-it almost made you want to pack up everything and sleep for his sake but inevitably you say.

“Please, I got this.”

You most definitely did not have it. You KNEW that you did not have the mental capacity to perform well during this presentation. After convincing Jimin back into his room, you were left with unpleasant aftermath: your ruined notes-smeared black ink reflects your internal conflict to just muster up any idea and bloviate it, but you quickly dismiss it and finish cleaning up the mess. Huffing a short breath of air, y/n packs up her laptop. Maybe retyping your work in the hotel’s business room would equip you with the motivation to bustle through 20 pages of notes. Sadly, it did not and by your third cup of brew, you became restless.

“____?” A muffled voice inquired. “Are you okay?’

Tethering between reality, you didn’t realize that someone found you half-asleep by your partially completed notes. It was all a blurred, kaleidoscopic vision as the figure adjusts your seating into a more comforting position.

“Sleep well,___” you finally hear before sleep consumes you once more.

_____

Four Hours Later

You groan with the sounds of birds chirping. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you glance at the alarm-eyes widen at it. It was noon, also two hours after your presentation. YOU MISSED YOUR PRESENTATION! Climbing out of bed, you frantically slip on your shoes and blazer, almost missing Jungkook sipping on his beverage across from you.

“The meeting is over ___.” He stated, halting your rushed movements.

“Why am I here?” You panic now realizing that you were in Jungkook’s room. “ I saw you asleep in the board room and felt you must’ve been uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I imposed it.” He apologized.

“No, you’re fine. I was exhausted anyway.” You brushed off, in which he nodded.

“Well, would you like to have lunch? I ordered way too much.” Jungkook scratches his neck. It was a buffet-like feast with different dishes that made your mouth water. “ I guess I could stay. No need to turn down free food.”

You had no idea where this newfound bravery came from but you relished this impromptu lunch date with Jungkook. It made you forget about missing your presentation. The endless hours, high function anxiety, and a minor caffeinated overload all vanished. Because you were here, next to Jungkook sipping on sparkling water.

You check the time and see that it is currently 3:00. Being with Jungkook made the time fly by literally. Your ringtone interrupts your conversation about your favorite home-cooked meals.

Jimin: Are you dead? Where are you?

Jimin: You and Jungkook missed the presentation.

Jimin: Did you finally fuck him?

Jimin: I’m telling Joon you’re ignoring me again.

A long chain of messages from Jimin decorated your Home Screen, each becoming more chaotic.

“I should probably get going. Jimin is wondering where I’m at and he might issue a missing person alert if I don’t respond.” You tell him. “Also, you missed the meeting too?”___asked.

Jungkook scratched his neck

“I didn’t want you to wake up without knowing where you were, so I sent an email to Tae saying that we were caught up on this breach case,” he confessed. The breach case? You almost forgot about it. “That was smart. I need to review it again.” Spending restless nights took its toll, a breach case is crucial and demands optimal focus, something you’ve been neglecting for a few days. “I could always help if you need it?” he inquired, sipping on his guava juice.

You gulp. Chatting over steamed veggies is one thing but having a legal discourse with Jungkook is another. He still makes your palm sweaty and your heartbeat race at the speed of light especially when he was in his lawyer persona. Stoic and suave. Persuading each individual with convection, a smooth crusader of a linguist. He has been around a lot lately since you flaked on the lunch date and informed him that you didn’t need his help, but this presentation took its toll.

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t want to give you any unnecessary work.”

“It wouldn’t be a problem! Anything to help.” He rushed out. “Plus, it’ll be a great way for us to finally collaborate. It’s quite peculiar that two of the best attorneys in the firm have yet to do a case together.”

You hesitated. It would be nice to have Jungkook around more often,and plus he was the best attorney at the firm, but he was also a major distraction. You could never focus on anything with him around.

“Y/n, what do you think?”

[mydarlingwitcher]

Jaskier bribes Geralt into coming to one of his classes to show some point about how life on the road blah blah blahblah and Geralt just sits in Jaskier's chair glaring at all the giggling students, one of them even calls him Mr. Pankratz on their way out

First of all, I need you to know that when I read this in bed last night I snorted so loudly at Mr. Pankratz! You genius, you.

I wanted to write a short drabble about it, because the idea is just so good (and we’re all in love with the professor!Jaskier art, right?), then it somehow snowballed into a 1k ficlet. Because I have no control over my brain. So now let’s slap a very dignified title on this thing and call it a day lmao

Professor Pankratz brings his himbo husband to class

Geralt surprises Jaskier by travelling back from Kaer Morhen a fortnight earlier than planned.

Of course, when asked, he simply states that they’ve had a mild winter and there was no sense in loitering inside the castle walls when he could have picked up a few contracts along the way.

“Naturally.” Jaskier agrees with a knowing smile. For once, he refrains from calling the witcher out on his bullshit. That’s one of his many ways to show Geralt that he missed him, being mindful of the man’s appreciation for quiet after a taxing journey.

Just like Geralt is always more prone to soft touches and casual gestures of affection, after he’s been away from his lover for so long. It’s the sweetest thing, really. Like the first bite of a warm pastry filled with jam.

And not even Jaskier, for all his lyrical prose and dewy-eyed emotions, could have imagined a future like that for the both of them. But against all odds, it works. Summers circle back to misty autumns, icy winters give way to springs and their bond grows fonder, steadier and all the more fiery for it.

The bard doesn’t say much that night, but he does draw a hot bath for Geralt and he scrubs his back, unknotting the tension in those broad shoulders with a nimble touch born of intimacy.

“Hmm, I needed that” Geralt murmurs once he’s drying his hair with a towel that smells like lavender. It means thank you, but also come here.

They tumble into bed together not one minute later. It’s been four months and they’re eager, so thrilled to stroke and lick and bite, to plunge and sink deeper.

They’ve dreamt of this so many times.

After, when the window is cracked open and the smell of sex blends with their languid breaths, Jaskier rolls over and slings an arm across Geralt’s flank to draw him closer.

“Come teach my class with me tomorrow.” He whispers in the witcher’s ear. He’s sporting a neatly trimmed beard these days, and it tickles Geralt’s neck in the most tempting way.

Geralt chuckles dryly, but the lack of an immediate quip tells him that Jaskier is serious. It’s a little scary how often they can read their minds by now.

“Don’t think so. You’re the teacher, Jask. I’ve got nothing to tell them.”

“But you’re the reason I’m still alive and teaching in the first place. Besides, you can just sit there, look pretty and answer some questions. My students have heard a lot about you, they’ll adore you.”

“Jaskier, no, you know I don’t-”

“If you say yes now, I won’t ask you for another three years.”

Geralt considers it as Jaskier nips at the nape of his neck. “Deal.”

How awkward can it be anyway, the witcher asks himself as they walk inside a small classroom on the following morning.

Pretty fucking awkward, as it turns out.

“Good morning, professor!” A couple of students pipe up, before a dozen pairs of young and excitable eyes zero in on the massive, leather-clad man standing next to their teacher. Even without his swords, there’s no mistaking who he is.

“Melitele, is that-”

“It’s Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier’s muse!” Someone hisses with unabashed glee.

Geralt glares at them, wide-eyed and scowling, and they stare back. Trust a bunch of green singers and poets in training to call him, a witcher of Kaer Morhen, a blasted muse to his face.

“Yes, we have an acclaimed guest with us today, and I’m expecting you all to be on your best behaviour.” Jaskier announces with a flourish of his hand and a smile that’s equal parts dazzling and menacing.

And fuck it if that doesn’t turn Geralt on a little.

But this is decidedly not the time for it, so he dumps all of Jaskier’s books and scrolls on the desk and he just sit there, feeling very much like he’s trapped in a Kikimore’s nest.

Meanwhile, Jaskier prompty busies himself with returning the lastest assignments, taking the time to bestow a comment or two on each student. It’s clear that his pupils hold him in high regard, but they’re not afraid to interact with him.

Geralt remembers a couple of tales about Jaskier’s education, and how literacy was beaten into him with a stick, to quote the bard. It’s a thought that sits uneasy in his stomach, even now. Which is why he feels a surge of admiration witnessing his lover in his element.

He’s not playing the lute yet, but he’s composing a symphony nevertheless, carefully guiding and encouraging every young man and woman.

Then he launches into a full analysis of an epic poem and the merits of adapting a story to the metrics of a contemporary ballad, talking fast but never rambling, and no one is staring at the witcher anymore.

Geralt crosses his arms and listens, his cool exterior still in place, though Jaskier can definitely tell he’s amused. He flashes him a smug smile.

The class soon nears its end and Jaskier goes to stand behind Geralt, placing a hand on his shoulder. A couple of students most definitely mask an aww with the turn of a page or a cough.

“Now, as you’ve been such lively listeners, let’s see if our guest would like to, um” He tilts his head and meets Geralt’s wary gaze, “Answer a few questions, absolutely not related to his personal life?”

Four hands shoot up immediately. Geralt groans.

The questions are actually nothing like he expects.

“Did you ever meet Filavandrel again? Would you say your advice had some influence on his decision to change the rules of succession?”

“Was your life any different during the plague?”

“How does it feel to have inspired many tales that will live on as popular folklore?”

Geralt does his damnedest to give passable answers using as few words as possible. He’s sure no one is very impressed, but if they’re disappointed, they don’t show it. Smart brats.

As soon as Jaskier declares that their time is up, he stands up in one fluid motion and he heads towards the door with a brief “Hm. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Pankratz!” A girl answers politely. That stops him dead in his tracks.

Mr. Pankratz?

“What the fuck, Jaskier.” He mutters as he turns around and fixes his lover with a stunned glare. The man throws his head back and chortles, and the whole classroom bursts into laughter after that.

Geralt doesn’t remember ever blushing for such a trivial thing. For a second, he’s legitimately hoping some monster will emerge from a dark corner and swallow him whole.

Jaskier teases him about it later, but not that much. And he more than makes up for it when he drags Geralt to his chambers.

All in all, Geralt doesn’t regret visiting him in Oxenfurt. Quite the opposite.

[illfoandillfie]

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: The Proposal

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: Your's and Ben's agents approach you about pretending to date in order to boost interest in your new movie.

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter other than some swearing maybe? Things may get a little spicy in later chapters though.

Words: 5843

AN: This fic was written for El @laedymoon​ for her 1K celebration! I took the trope 'fake dating' and this was the result! Honestly fake dating is one my my fave tropes and I've been wanting to try my hand at it for a while so this was so much fun to write! Originally it was meant to be a one shot but when have I ever been good at sticking to plans lmao? Instead it'll probably end up as a three or four part series, maybe with an epilogue as well, who knows.

I’d also like to point out I started writing this months before we got those photos of Ben and Olivia so this was in no way inspired by anyone’s theories about whether or not their relationship is a PR stunt and I’m not particularly interested in that kind of talk.

Taglist: @laedymoon​​  @dtfrogertaylor​​   @ezmina98​​  @vee-ndetta​​ @atomic-watermelon​​ @kellypenac​​ @labessieisallama​​ @deakyclicks​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @drowseoftaylor​​  @hannafuckingsucks​​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​​ @queenmylovely​​ @supersonicfreddie​

You’d known fake celebrity relationships were a thing that happened, you just never expected to be approached about one. But, here you were, sat next to Ben in an office usually reserved for producers meetings, a slight frown on his face as he listened to your agents explain how beneficial it would be if the public believed you were a couple.  “It’ll be good for the movie,” your agent, Mary, said matter-of-factly, “Studies show that if people – particularly women ages 15 – 45, the exact demographic we’re targeting – believe a real romance sprouted during the course of filming a movie, they are 78% more likely to see the movie. Plus, your names in the tabloids mean more exposure for both of you which means more offers in future, no matter how well this movie does in the box office. It’s all about being seen, people knowing your names.”  “Are you serious?” Ben asked slowly, glancing to you, as if trying to determine your reaction.  “Look, Ben, obviously we can’t force you or Y/N to do this,” his agent, Peter, introduced to you moments before, said, “the movie has already started filming and everyone appreciates your opinions, so saying no isn’t going to affect your jobs. But,” he paused, making sure the words were getting through to you both, “we strongly recommend you consider it. There are enough pros to make it worthwhile and it would only have to last until a week or two after the premiere. We can give you the rest of the day to think it over and make your decisions, but we will require an answer by tomorrow morning. If you agree, we can discuss terms and get everything in order to run the first story early next week.” 

You and Ben left, tempted to laugh at the strangeness of your morning.   “Think I need a coffee after that. You wanna come over to my trailer for a cup?”  “Yeah, okay, sounds good,” you followed him quietly for a moment, thinking over the conversation you’d just been part of, “What do you think?”  “About what? Coffee? You know I love it,”  “Not coffee, the whole pretending to date thing,”  “Oh that,” you could almost hear his eyes roll.   “You don’t think it’s worth it?”  He paused.  “Saying no won’t hurt my feelings,” you nudged his shoulder, hoping to ease his obvious discomfort, “it is a weird situation.”  “Weird is an understatement. And weren’t you with that Luke guy, what would he say about it?”  “He’ll say nothing since we’re not seeing each other anymore,”  “Wait, what?”  “Yeah that lasted like three dates and went nowhere, I haven’t seen him in weeks.”  “Oh, sorry.”  You shrugged, “What’s there to be sorry for, he was boring. Anyway, we were talking about you and me.”  “Right, that.” Ben opened the door to his trailer and waved you inside, following you over the threshold, “What do you think about it?”  “I’m not opposed to it. We already spend a lot of our time pretending to date anyway.”  Ben chuckled as he flicked the small kettle on, grabbing your two mugs and the instant coffee.  “Plus it would be good to get our names out there a bit more. And we're friends, right?” After the weeks of pre-production costume fittings and script read-throughs you certainly thought you were friends and hoped Ben did too.  “Of course we’re friends doofus,”  “Thanks dweeb. But that means it'll be fun getting to hang out and stuff.”   “So, wait, you think it’s a good idea?”  “Well it can’t hurt, can it?”  Ben frowned, forehead creased, “Don’t you think it’s all a bit, well, daft? As if us dating, real or not, would really have an impact on the movie, I think that’s bullshit. Plus, y’know, the work we’d have to put in to making it seem real or whatever. That’s just inviting extra stress into our lives and extra work which it doesn’t sound like we’d be getting paid for. Acting’s fun but I don’t want to spend every waking moment doing it.”  “Well it wouldn’t be every waking moment would it? Just the ones when they had photographers around. They’ll get a few photos of us leaving set holding hands or out having dinner together and spin it into a big romantic story and all we’d have to do is hold hands and have dinner. And you can’t call bullshit when they had actual statistics to back them up.”  “It sounds like you’re trying to convince me.”  “No, if you don’t want to I don’t mind, but I also don’t see anything wrong with it. And I think you should actually think about it instead of writing it off instantly.”  “So if I said I was into it, you’d want to?”  You shrugged, “Yeah. I want this movie to do well, I want this job to go somewhere. And if I have to date you to make that happen I will. That sounded better in my head. I just mean that I’m happy to pretend to date you, even if I wouldn’t in real life, no offence.”  “I’m a little offended,” he chuckled, “but really can’t argue with that can I?”  “If you’re not comfortable with it, say so and we’ll tell them no,”  Ben paused, staring at you as he considered what you’d said, quiet for so long you were sure he was going to say he wasn’t interested. You were about to put him out of his misery and tell him you didn’t want to anymore when he spoke up.   “They did say it would be good for the movie and out careers,”  “Someone’s coming around,” you sing-songed, taking the mug he offered you.  “Alright, I admit, maybe not as awful an idea as I first thought. There are…some pros anyway. And I guess we can hear the terms and then make up our minds properly.”  “Aww, looks like I got myself a boyfriend,” 

The next morning you found out what you were in for if you did agree to it. Once again both of your agents were waiting in the office but this time a third person was with them when you arrived.  “Y/N, Ben, take a seat. This is Barry, he’s a representative from Paramount Pictures.”  Barry, with his salt and pepper hair and well cut suit, leaned forward in his seat to shake Ben’s hand and then yours with a pleasant greeting.  “Well,” Mary spoke up, “have you made a decision?”  Ben looked to you before he spoke, “It’s a tentative yes from both of us. We’d like to hear a bit more about it before we fully agree but, so far, it sounds okay.”  “Glad to have you on board,” Barry said, reaching into his bag and pulling out a manila folder full of paper.  “In that case, the terms,” Peter said, glancing around to make sure everyone was ready, “If you do agree, we’ll need you to sign some paperwork stating you understand your obligations and all that, so take a copy of these,” he took two small stapled documents from Barry, handing you each one, before passing another to Mary, “just so everyone has all the info at hand.”  “Are these the terms?”  “Yes. Don’t worry, we’ll explain, but it’s all laid out in there if you need clarification.”  “There’s more pages than I was expecting,” Ben said, already sounding like it was becoming too much work to worry about.  “You don’t have to worry about the last few pages, it’s mostly just legalese. Essentially, you’ll be required to act like a couple in public. That’s really all there is to it, though contractually it’s a little more complex.”  “What does that mean?”  “We just need you both to agree to perform specific relationship type moments that we can sell. For instance, Y/N, we will need you to be spotted by paparazzi leaving Ben’s apartment a couple of times. Or vice versa. It is the 21st century afterall.”  “You mean like a walk of shame?” you asked, glancing at the paper in your hand.  “That’s not the official term on the contract but it’s more or less correct. You’ll need to change clothes, make it look like you stayed the night even if you didn’t really.”  “Wouldn’t it be more traditional to wear the previous day’s gear?”  “Perhaps but if you’re in the same clothes as the day before the paparazzi can’t sell the photos as easily because they can’t prove they were taken on different days. We want to make these photos easy to sell and easy to circulate. To that end, some paparazzi and gossip blogs will be tipped off by the studio and hopefully word will spread as the buzz around you gets stronger.”  “There will also be required dates, of course. At least one of them needs to take place at the French restaurant Boucher because they have a partnership with the studio. There is also a clause about an argument, provided people become interested in your relationship and we keep it going all the way to the premiere.”  “Wait, an argument?” Ben flipped through his papers, trying to find the right section.  “You just have to be caught arguing, or at least looking like you’re angry and about to fight, just so we can sell the whole trouble in paradise storyline.”  “People like conflict,” Mary shrugged, “Otherwise all we need is the two of you to act like a couple in public, maybe a few social media posts, from now until a week after the theatre release. After that you’re free to ‘break up’, though you will also need to sign a non-disclosure agreement which will stop you from talking about it for a few years. We’ll organise a few magazines and gossip sites to run stories about the split and, depending on how the public react to your story, may later run some Ben and Y/N, back together question mark type pieces, entirely fabricated of course.”  “You will attend the premiere together and, obviously, do press together. We will tell reporters not to ask about your personal lives, so no one suspects the relationship to be fake, though a few questions may slip through. Though we don’t expect this movie to earn any award nominations since it’s not being marketing for any there may be some later down the track. In that case we may ask you to extend your relationship long enough to attend the ceremonies together, provided you aren’t working on other projects at the time.”  “The only other requirements are that, a few times a week you allow yourselves to be seen in public. Hand holding, kissing, really sell the whole fallen in love thing. That’s it really.”  “And we can’t even tell our families?”  “One leak is all it would take to have this revealed. You tell your mum who accidentally lets slip to the neighbour who sells it to a magazine. And if it’s revealed it could be harmful when it comes to box office numbers, which is the exact opposite of what we want. But enough of these have been done so that we know how to manage them, and all you have to do is keep quiet about it and act like you’re in love. Easy. Are you both on board?”  Barry, who’d been quiet throughout the meeting, leaned forward expectantly.  You already knew what to say, "I’m in if Ben is,”  Ben chewed his lip as he skimmed over the paper in his hands again. He sighed and raised his eyes to where Barry sat, waiting.  “I don’t know I-”  You’d seen it coming, his answer. Really it wasn’t much of a surprise. Ben didn’t strike you as the sort of person to go in for schemes like this and he’d been hesitant from the second it was suggested. You heard him sigh again as his gaze landed on you and you wondered if he thought less of you for wanting to be part of it.  “Okay. I’m in.”  You were a little stunned by his change of heart but you were the only one. Everyone else in the room seemed relieved and a little frantic, Barry reaching back into his bag, Mary and Peter talking over each other to assure you both that you’d made the right choice.  “Glad to hear that, Ben,” Barry was saying as he pulled out another folder of documents, “Now, we’ll need you to both to sign here.” 

After shooting was done for the day you accompanied Ben to a small pub for a drink. Mary and Peter had left the meeting on their phones making hurried calls to get photos of the two of you leaving the set together. You’d jumped a little as Ben grabbed your hand before realising why his fingers were linked through your own. It was warm and he didn’t let you go until you reached the pub, the snap of cameras audible as you walked down the street. You found a booth while Ben headed to the bar, returning a little later with a drink in each hand.   “One G and T for my girlfriend,” he laughed as he put the drink in front of you and slid into the seat opposite.  “Y’know if you told me last week that I’d have had a boyfriend before we finished filming and that it was you, I would have laughed.”  “God me too. Our jobs are so bizarre. Literally what other profession would encourage you to pretend to date?”  You laughed and pulled out the papers you’d been given that morning, “And who’d have thought there’d be so many contractual requirements.”  “We should add our own set of rules. Like just so we’re clear about what we’d be uncomfortable doing or whatever.”  “Safewords?”  “Get your mind out of the gutter. Christ, you fake ask a girl out and suddenly all she can think about is sex.”  “My mind was in the gutter long before we were set up.”  He let out a huff of laughter and shook his head, reaching for his glass.  “I know what you mean though. We should definitely define some things,” you grabbed your bag and began digging through it for a pen. When you found it, you turned the papers over giving you a blank canvas to work on, “Firstly sex.”  “Should have known,”  “May as well start with the big one. Rule 1: No Sex. Completely off the table.” you took a sip of your drink as you began jotting it down.  “Your wank game strong?”  The conversation was interrupted as you choked on your drink, finally recovering enough to splutter, “excuse me?”  “Well it sounds like we might be together for a while. Can’t go on any tinder dates or anything since that would look like cheating. You sure you can last that long?  “100 per cent.”  “Alright, if you’re sure. Rule one, no sex.”  You finished writing it down, rolling your eyes, “What about PDAs? We have to do some but is there anything you’d be uncomfortable with?”  “I’m not really one for like public make out sessions,”  “Thank god, me neither.”  “Okay, good. What about cuddling and that kind of thing. Man this is weird to talk about,”  “Yeah, is a bit. I can do some cuddling in public but y'know, nothing too much. Hugs are fine, an arm around my shoulders is fine. Holding hands is obviously okay.”  “What about an arm around the waist?”  “Hmmm….maybe. Yeah, I think I’d be okay with that. But your hand never goes below my lower back. I will have no arse grabs or pinches or hands in my back pocket.”  “Wasn’t planning on that but good to know. Does cuddling include lap sitting?”  “Absolutely not.”  “Okay, strong boundaries, I respect that. You going to write all that down?”  “Rule 2: PDAs kept respectable and to a minimum. And rule 3: hands above the belt at all times. What about our families and friends?” you asked as you made notes on acceptable PDAs, “chances are we’re going to have to deal with them at some point since they’re going to think it’s real.”  “Okay, um, how about…no meeting anyone unless there’s a reason like a family gathering you’d be expected to bring a partner to. And if that does come up we can work out a game plan then.”  “Make sense. Rule 4: No families unless no escape.” 

By the time you left the pub, your list of rules tucked into your bag, it was quite late.   “Hey, you wanna crash at mine tonight?” Ben asked, “we can text Peter and Mary, let them know so they can organise paparazzi for the morning.”  “Tonight? I don’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes or anything.”  “We’ll pop into a shop and buy you a new toothbrush, should probably get you one for my place anyway since apparently you’ll be staying over more than once. And I’m sure I’ve got something you can sleep in.”  “And tomorrow? Can’t wear this again in case we get photographed.”  “I’ll give you something and then I’ll drop you home in the morning,” he shrugged.   “I guess that would work,”  “C’mon, it’ll be like a sleepover. Stay up late and talk about boys, have things devolve into a sexy pillow fight, sleepover stuff.”  “And you say my mind lives in the gutter.”  “That’s not a no,”  “Alright, I’ll crash at yours. Closer to here than mine is anyway.”  “Awesome,” he grinned at you, “c’mon, this way….babe?”  “Didn’t sound so convincing there, Ben,” you snorted.  “You should have used a pet name then, instead of my actual one. And I was just testing the waters, what’d you think?”  “Babe’s okay. As long as we don’t get into weirdly cutesie things like turtle dove or snookums.”  “You don’t want me to call you snookums? How about cuddle bunny? Pumpkin pie?”  “Oh fuck off,”  “Think you mean fuck off honey bear.”  “Rule 5: Standard pet names only!” 

As much as he clearly enjoyed teasing you, Ben made sure you had a good time with him. He took your hand again but it was only so he could pull you into the warmth of a small Chinese restaurant. It was one he seemed to regularly visit judging by the way the man at the counter knew Ben’s order straight away. He seemed a little surprised when Ben asked to add extra dishes, eyes darting to your entwined hands, and then back to Ben’s face, but he said nothing, just cheerily gave Ben the new price.  “What was that about?” you asked as you walked the last block to Ben’s door, each of you carrying a bag, his full of food and yours supplies from the grocery store, “the look he gave you when he saw me?”  “Oh, that’s nothing. I used to go to that place a lot with my ex and then we broke up and I kept going on my own cause it’s close and it’s fucking good food. But, um, they know me pretty well and I guess it’s been a while since I took a girl there.”  “Well I’m flattered that you chose me to be part of this touching moment,” you laughed and followed Ben to his front door, taking the second bag from him so he could pull his keys from his pocket and let you in. You’d never been inside Ben’s place before so you let him lead you down the hallway towards the kitchen, taking charge of pulling everything from the bags as Ben got out plates and cutlery.  “Oh shit, hang on gotta text Mary and Peter,”  You took over dividing up the food as Ben dug his phone out of his pocket. A few seconds after he’d sent the message and put his phone down a ding made him snatch it back up again.  “Peter says there’ll be someone here to snap us while we leave. They want us to kiss if possible. Guess it’s really started then,”  “Guess so. Can I ask one thing?”  “Sure,” he said it slowly, almost nervously.  “Why’d you change your mind about this? I thought for sure you’d say no.”  “Oh, that. I don’t know, I guess I figured it wouldn’t hurt, especially if it was going to benefit the movie. C’mon, don’t want this to go cold,”  You weren't sure you believed him but you let him shrug off the question as you picked up your plate and followed him into the living room. The next couple of hours were spent eating and watching trashy reality tv shows, making jokes at their expense. You and Ben kept talking long after the show ended, until he realised how late it was getting.  “Better turn in otherwise I won’t get up in the morning,” he laughed.  “Yeah, probably a good plan,” you stretched out on the couch, placing a cushion under your head.  “C’mon, I’ll show you to your room.”  “You mean I’m not sleeping on the couch?”  “Oh my god you’re a dork,” he threw another cushion at you, “I have a spare room you can use.”  “Well I didn’t know that,” you laughed as you pushed yourself to your feet, following him back down the hallway towards a closed door you hadn’t noticed before.  “Nah, you’re all good. It’s honestly mostly used by my friend Joe when he’s travelling over this way. There’re clean sheets in the linen press in the bathroom which is the next door on the right, and extra blankets in the cupboard just there. Also watch the blinds if you try to close them, they can be a little stiff. If there’s anything else you need let me know, my bedroom is at the end of the hall, near the living room.”  “Some PJs would be good, if it’s no trouble.”  “Oh right, yeah of course, give me a second.”  You dropped your bag in a corner of the room and then popped into the bathroom to grab some sheets. Ben came back with an old t-shirt and some flannel pants.  “These are mine so they’ll probably be a bit big but they’ll be fine for the night. And they’ll look good for the camera in the morning.”  “Thanks,”  “That everything?”  “Think so, night Ben,”  “Night, snookums.”  “Rule five mister,”   Ben just laughed, pulling your door shut behind him.  

Waking up in Ben’s spare room was mildly confusing. The bed faced a different direction than yours did, the blinds blocked out too much of the morning light, and the sheets felt different. But the previous night came back to you and then the reason you were staying at Ben’s did too. It made you too nervous to go back to sleep, too restless to stay there, so you got up and stumbled to the door, opening it just in time to see Ben leaving the bathroom.  “Morning,” he groaned with half shut eyes and sleep mussed hair, “you want a coffee?”  “Please. Thanks.”  He yawned, acknowledging your answer with a nod and left the bathroom to you. When you were done you found him in the kitchen with a steaming mug of coffee in his hands and a second on the bench in front of him. You took it gratefully, letting the warm caffeine wake you up.”  “Breakfast? I can offer you toast or cereal unless you wanna wait for pancakes to cook.”  You shook your head, “Don’t normally eat breakfast,”  Ben looked aghast, “You know breakfast’s important, right?”  “Shhh, lemme wake up before you start lecturing me,”  Ben smiled into his own mug, falling silent until you’d downed half your drink, “You good now? Alert?”  “Close enough. Please don’t tell me about breakfast though.”  “I wasn’t going to. There was another text from Peter this morning.”  “What’d it say?”  “Well, a photographer will be here around nine-ish ready for us, but they said he’ll stay for as long as we take.”  “Okay.”  “And, um, he was very careful in how he worded it, but they want us to look like we fucked. Also I told them I’d take you home so there may be someone waiting for us there too, he never got back to me on it.”  “Shit, okay. Umm, guess I’ll just wear this then?” you indicated the pyjamas you’d borrowed, “might lose the pants though, help sell it a bit more.”  “Yeah, guess so,” Ben cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee, his eyes firmly fixed over your shoulder.  “What time is is?”  “Uhhhh,” he glanced at the oven, “Twenty past eight.”  “God I haven’t been up this early on a weekend in months.”  “Not one for farmers markets or anything then?”  “Not really. Much prefer lying in bed doing nothing.”  “Me too,”  “We’re meant for each other,” you laughed, “did you want to have a shower or anything?”  “Nah, you can if you want though,”  “Might as well wait until I get home. But I am gonna clean my teeth, especially if we have to kiss.”  “Maybe mess up your hair too, make it look like you didn’t sleep much.”  “Well how could I when you’re such a good lover,”  “I know you’re joking but if anyone asks, I’m incredible. You came like three times.”  “Did I now?”  “Of course.”  “Good thing no one’s gonna ask then, don’t think I’m great at lying.”  “You’re an actress, Y/N. Besides, it’s not really a lie, I am that good. You just haven’t experienced it personally.”  You poked your tongue out at Ben as you stood and headed towards the bathroom again but you did as he’d suggested and messed your hair up as much as you could. 

“How do I look?” you ask Ben when you were done.  “Gorgeous,” he said, eyes raking over every inch of your appearance from the ruffled hair to the hint of panda eyes you’d manufactured with your eyeshadow to the slightly unbuttoned flannel shirt and missing pants.  “But do I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked?”  “Oh, right, umm, yes I think so,”  “You do? I feel like theres something missing.” You darted back into the bathroom to look in the mirror again, “Oh! I know. Might be taking it a bit far though.”  “What is it?” Ben asked, following you and watching you in the mirror.  “What if you gave me a hickey?”  “Y/N, I-”  “Yeah, I know, that’s a weird thing to ask. Don’t worry, I think we’ll be fine without it.”  Ben’s cheeks puffed up with air that he slowly let escape his lips, “no, you’re right, if I’d really slept with you last night I would have marked you up a bit. A hickey will definitely make it look more authentic.”  “It’s not totally inappropriate for me to ask?”  “No, no, we have to make it look legit, it’s a good suggestion. Here, I’ll uhh,” he stepped in close, one hand tentatively winding around your waist to pull you back against him, the other moving to push your hair aside. His breath was hot as he leaned into your neck. You saw him glance at your reflection, eyebrows slightly furrowed, but then his lips were on your skin, sucking at you until a bruise formed. Your own breath quickened with the contact but you knew it was just because he’d found a particularly sensitive spot and it had been a while since anyone had handled you like that. It was still just Ben and it was still part of your jobs. But all the same you let your eyes slip shut and hummed at how nice it felt. You were almost disappointed when it was over. Ben stood there for a moment, head bent over your neck, long enough to take a deep breath, but then he seemed to collect himself, taking a quick step back.  “Will that do?”  “It’s great Ben, really ties the whole look together.”  Ben returned your smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Good. Good. Okay then, I’ll umm, what time is it?”  “Just after nine,” you said, glancing at your phone, “wonder if the photographer is here yet.”  “I think I will jump in for that shower actually, by the time I’m done he definitely will be.”  “Okay,”  “Make yourself comfortable though, watch some TV or something.”  “Alright. Thanks for being so cool about all this. I know you’re a little sceptical about the benefits and everything.”  “It’s fine, Y/N, no need for any of that.” He smiled again as you left the bathroom and the door shut behind you, but it still seemed off.  

You settled onto the couch to flick TV channels, pausing at a breakfast news show and then at some kids cartoon you didn’t recognise, only stopping when Ben entered the room, clean and dressed.   “Hey, I was wondering,” you said, turning towards him, “should I give you a hickey as well?”  “No,”  You were a little taken aback by how quickly he’d answered.  “I mean, I think that’d be overkill. Keep it up our sleeves for next time, yeah?”  “Okay, yeah, sure,”  “Is he there?”  “I think so.”  Ben walked towards the window and twitched the curtain aside just enough to peek out, “Yeah, looks like him. Big camera pointing at my front door.”  “Okay,” your heart began to beat a little faster, “show time then,”  “Show time.” Ben nodded as he turned back to you.  “Do we have a plan? I kinda wish I had a script right about now,”  Ben laughed a little and you thought he seemed more himself, “I think you should go out first so they can get a good clean shot and then I come out after, maybe with my hand on your back?”  “Sounds good,”  “Okay, umm, I’ll lock the door and when I turn around you kiss me and then I’ll open the passenger door for you and we’ll drive to your place.”  “Don’t bother opening my door. I’m not big into that kind of gesture, plus I think if we were actually being caught by the paparazzi, we’d be getting into the car as quick as possible. Maybe throw a look his way like you aren’t happy about being photographed just so it doesn’t seem too staged.”  “Okay, no opening doors, noted.”  You shrugged, “I just think it’s a bit old fashioned and unnecessary,”  “I’ll keep that in mind for our dates. You ready to do this?”  You nodded and stood up, leading the way to the front door. Ben collected his keys and wallet and placed a hand on the lower part of your back, your signal to open the door and step outside.   “Kinda wish I had pants on,” you said softly, “It’s a bit brisk,”  Ben chuckled as he followed you out, “We’ll put the heating on in the car for you,” he turned to lock the door. You watched him, fingers gripping the key a little tighter than he perhaps normally would, and as soon as he began to turn back around you were moving towards him, one hand thrown around his neck, the other in his hair as your pressed your lips to his. His hand found your back again, pulling you in close as he kissed you back fiercely, as if he were unwilling to let you go after such a good night together, the kiss of a man falling in love. For half a second you forgot it was an act. And then he was gone, his nose brushing yours briefly before there was space between you. You felt a little dazed with Ben looking at you so softly but you took a deep breath and reality came back to you. With another breath your turned and headed towards the car, able to hear the rapid click click click of the camera. You shot a look towards the noise and then got into the car, Ben hopping into the driver’s seat about a second later.  

“You’re a good actor,” you said before silence could settle between you, “I already knew that, of course, but the kiss was really good. Almost completely believable.”  “As long as it’s believable enough in the photos,”  “I’m sure it will be. I think we pulled it off.”  Ben nodded, “Yeah. You still chilly?”  “Little bit,”  He reached over and twisted one of the dials blindly, warm air suddenly washing over your goosebump covered legs, “better?”  “So much, thanks.”  “I think he might be following us,”  “You did tell them we were going to mine, s’pose he’ll be trying to grab a couple of shots of us there.”  “Yeah, probably.”  “Should we come up with another game plan? Maybe you walk me to my door, we stand there talking for a bit, saying goodbye. I stay and watch you leave before I go inside.”  “Perfect. Is another kiss part of the goodbye?”  “Careful Ben, you sound almost like you want to kiss me,” you laughed, “but yes, think it needs to be.” 

It went completely according to plan. By the time you were getting out of the car the photographer had pulled up outside your house, his camera sticking out the window of his car so he didn’t miss his shot. The camera clicked as Ben took your hand and you led him to your door.  “Well, guess that’s it for today. I did have fun with you last night, even if it wasn’t the kind of fun everyone else will think it was.”  “Yeah, me too. Happy to have you stay anytime you want to be photographed again. Maybe we’ll get you some PJs that can live at mine though.”  “Probably for the best. If this goes well I can see them wanting us to do it again soon.”  “Oh definitely. They’ll probably have notes for us so we can get an even better performance next time. You ready to wow them with another kiss?”  “Lay it on me, babe,”  “Anything you want, snookums,”  You groaned but before you could protest too much Ben was kissing you again, softer than before, no longer trying to convince you to stay, just trying to prolong the moment before the goodbye. It left you a little breathless as he cupped your cheek, leaving his hand there when he pulled away. As you opened your eyes you saw him bite his lip and then he leaned in to leave you with a final chaste peck before his fingers slipped from your skin and he was walking away. You let out a long exhale as you watched him go, waving as the car took off. Once you were alone inside, the door firmly shut behind you, you laughed at how ridiculous the whole arrangement was. But at least Ben was a good kisser. Not too firm, not too wet, just the right amount of tongue. Believable enough to give you butterflies.  

[alpacaparkaseok]

7 Secrets Drabbles

The one where Aera gets the hiccups

This is part of the “7 Secrets” BTS soulmate series on my page. You can check out the full story here!

*This is from Aera’s (Jimin’s soulmate) pov* THE SONG: “And I love her” by Passenger 

Genre: Soulmate au

Warnings: none as far as I know

Word count: 1k

My entire life I’ve been told that I see through rose-colored glasses. It’s something I used to take as an insult. It made me feel immature and naïve.

Oddly enough, instead of throwing away my rosy view of the world, I built my life from it.

The first time one of my designs was accepted and integrated into the world of fashion, I cried. Like, nonstop for about three days. I then proceeded to delve even farther into my work once the criticism that “beginners luck” was all I had to thank began.

It’s only been a few years since I began all of that, but I still remember the most pivotal day. I had just come from a grueling meeting about Paris fashion week, and was anxiously awaiting the news to see who would be invited.

Everyone in my department was invited except for me. And for the four-thousandth time in my life, I was told the same phrase.

“It’s time to take off your rose-colored glasses, Aera,” my supposed friend since I first entered design school told me. “This is the big leagues, and pretty ideas with no backbone won’t get you anywhere.”

It was a depressing day, but I’ll never forget what came of it. I was so angry (my soul sisters weren’t sure whether to flee the scene or console me), that I locked myself in my studio for hours and hours until I came up with a suitable design.

It was my cry into the void. My final scream before I allowed the world to silence me. To anyone else, they were just another pair of tinted glasses. But to me, it was my way of showing people that seeing the world as a beautiful mess of a journey is not as silly as they may seem.

It took a couple of years for that project to take off, but I’ll never forget the day it did. Friends and enemies were blowing up my phone with photos of the same man. A man that I was worried would never know had changed my life in so many more ways than just wearing the glasses I’d designed.

I’ll never forget the day I saw Park Jimin wear my rose-tinted glasses. It was in some concert, and he looked happy and beautiful in them. It didn’t take more than a week before I was sold out, and by then I was able to hire more people who continued on in my tinted glasses line and I got to move on to what I’ve always wanted to do: clothing.

He couldn’t have known that his soulmate designed those very glasses. There was no way on earth he could have known, but the way I can feel this bond sinking into my very soul, I think that maybe a part of him did know.

It’s been approximately five minutes since I first laid eyes on my soulmate, and I’ve had the hiccups for the past two.

“Aera,” my soulmate chuckles, “Do you need a glass of water?” We’ve just separated from our bonding, and I think me nearly hyperventilating before has come back to haunt me. Needless to say, it was a little embarrassing when I couldn’t stop hiccuping as Jimin tried to hold me steady in his arms.

“There should be water in the recovery room,” Dr. Byun interrupts. He’s the male doctor that led Jimin in here, where he shuffled over to me in a mixture of embarrassment and cuteness before wrapping his arms around me with teary eyes.

“Let’s go?” Jimin asks, extending his hand out to me. It doesn’t take me long to drop everything and take his hand.

The inside of the recovery room shows that Dr. Byun was telling the truth. A few bottles of water sit on the table alongside an assortment of different snacks. Jimin hands me a bottle which I gratefully take.

“Better?” He asks me, looking at me with a look I’d thought only reserved for couples who had lived together for over fifty years. For some reason, I think Jimin doesn’t need to be with someone for fifty years in order to look at them like they’re the most precious thing in the world.

I nod a little bashfully. “Much better. So,” I look around the room, “what now? We just wait?”

Again that sweet look before he looks away. For being a force to reckon with on stage, Park Jimin is quite bashful in person.

“I heard somewhere that slow dancing is a sure cure for the hiccups.”

My breath is too shallow still from our bonding to really even laugh, but I still manage a confused giggle. “But I don’t have the hiccups anymore…?”

Jimin shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket and fiddling with it. He turns the volume up and sets it on the table. “Just in case they come back?”

He doesn’t really look at me, shuffling forward and taking my hand in his, pulling me closer to him ever so gently. I allow him to tug me along, wrapping my one hand around the back of his neck while the other entwines with his. His hand on my waist is so light that I’m not sure he’s even holding me, but I give him a soft smile as the song he’s chosen wraps around us like the rays of the sun.

“Jimin,” I whisper. His eyes flicker up to mine, a timid expression painted along his features.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like tinted glasses?”

His eyebrows jump up, a confused grin showing up. “Y-yeah, I do. Do you?”

I’ve been told countless times that I see life through rose-tinted glasses. Right now, swaying along as though dancing among the clouds, I suppose that’s what led me to my soulmate.

The glasses became a battle cry for me in a time when I was just struggling to make my way in the world. For the first time in my life, I feel like it might be safe to ease the glasses off. With my soulmate beside me how could the world not be beautiful?

I’ll tell him about the glasses later. For now, I mentally slip them off the bridge of my nose and drink in the change of color pallete. No longer is the world rosy.

It’s pure gold.

“They’re alright, I guess.”

taglist: @mae-musicbitch @heartblackerthancoffee​ @agustneeds​ @eusticenatalie​ @taylorroe3​

[pippki-writes]

Stories List

Time to put a pin on a post with links to my various stories and such. I may change this organization later, but for now I think I’ll divide them into standalone and multipart. Maybe one day I’ll even be inspired to come back and put some descriptions and word counts on everything, but you’re asking quite a lot of me.

Ok, there. I never said they would be GOOD descriptions, nor precise word counts.

Standalones

Nessun Uomo è un’Isola // Spooky Inspo Pics

Spooky pandemic short story set in the Venetian lagoon

WC: 3.8K

This Angel and That Demon // Art

The relationship between a sentinel angel and a goetic demon

WC: 2K

An Imperfect Summoning

Very short thoughts about names

Four Letter Things—

Is a Bear // Anziel Was On Probation // Tell William // Ten Porto Flip

Four short stories I wrote in 2008, about 1K each, strange fictions with very little to do with one another that I nevertheless decided should be grouped together

Project 341271-1

An alien comes to Earth, and writes about it

WC: 1.5K

Multipart

An Ill-Fitting Name [45k words/19 posts] // Spotify Playlist 1 // Spotify Playlist 2 // Art // More Art // And More Art

A strange bunch of snippets about the life of a magical murderer

Warning: violence, sex, lapsed Catholics, abuse, just a whole mess of things really

Moot & Eirelandais [currently paused]

He may be a thief, but she’s the one who steals his heart

I swear if someone hasn’t written that line before I’ll eat a hat but I don’t know what else to say in summary. Uh surprise there’s murder here too WHY IS THIS A THEME

The Recipe of Chef Andre Poêlon, Fantasy Wrestler [a complete tasting menu of 20k words, served in 8 parts]

Andre was a successful chef at a high-end restaurant, until one fateful day, a famous wrestler demanded the most expensive cut of meat cooked so long you’d never even believe the cow had been alive. Andre refused, and one thing led to another, let to the viral video of the chef delivering a one-hit KO to the wrestler courtesy of a cast-iron frying pan. Needless to say, Andre was quickly fired. Now no restaurant will hire him, and Andre has decided, since he was so good knocking one wrestler out, why not try to make a career of knocking out some more?

Meet Cute With a Vampire [6k - probably more segments in the future] // Mo Art

An omnisexual human-male-presenting mothman (*A* mothman, not THE mothman) therapist’s meet cute with a gay trans vampire grad student

A Slow Moving Destiny: Waiting (1.8K); Returning (3.2K) [in progress, as the mood strikes me]

You had been chosen for a destiny, but some greater whim of fate snatched it from you—now what?

Poems & Snips

> Cost of Words

> Things We Say on Bad Vibe Days

> Enigmatic Space

> Webs of If Only [2 page comic]

[clevercatchphrase]

2020 Year Review~

2020. Pretty unique year, don’t you think? It’s the first year since 2002 to have only two different digits in it. After 2022, this won’t happen again until 2111. Yep. Absolutely nothing more interesting than that.

Anyway! It’s time I reflect on my 2020, look back on my yearly goals and rant about things that happened to me this year. I made a post like this last year, where I went over my 2019 goals and talked about what I accomplished and what I didn’t, and it’s only fitting I do the same again this year. Read more under the cut for a random stream of consciousness ramble!

So, first things first, let’s look at my 2019 goals;

Finish paying off that last student loan

Put more stuff on my redbubble

Illustrate my own fan fics

Sew at least one stuffed animal

Make an enamel pin

Read one new book a month

Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic

Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make

Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch

Boost my patreon

 Paying Off My Last Student Loan: Going down the list, I am proud to say that I FINALLY paid off all my student loans! (and not a moment too soon. The last payment I made was literally days before the first quarantine rolled out). It took me roughly 4 years on my part-time paycheck to pay off all my loans, and once I finished, I had no money to my name (literally; I had less than 1k as emergency money in case of car troubles or health issues). Heck, I’m STILL living at home as a save up for a place of my own. Finally paying off all my student loans DID activate my secret 2020 new year’s resolution, which was to adopt a cat! I did this too, literally a week later! She is the best thing that’s happened to me this entire year and I love her so much and she is the snuggliest cuddle bug I’ve ever met. I’m so happy she’s in my life now~

Put More Stuff On My Redbubble: ah ha ha ha… I thought I did this, but then I went and checked, and it turns out-! I did not. I made art I intended to go on my redbubble, but haven’t put there yet. They are all drawings of some OCs from a game I want to make, but because I haven’t progressed on making the game this year, I never got around to putting more stuff related to it on my redbubble. At the time of writing, there are 7 days left in December, so I guess I could go and put it up on my redbubble right now, but without context on where the characters are from, there wouldn’t be much point, now would there?

 Illustrate My Own Fan Fics: Another goal that I was so stoked to actually do… and then just didn’t. Gee, I wonder why I couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do it this year? Truly a conundrum. (Hey, you know what? If Ghost Switch counts as a fan fiction in a visual form, then I am doing GREAT on this goal. 2.5 years in, 1 of ~4 arcs done, and still going steady~)

 Sew At Least One Stuffed Animal: Okay, I have a valid excuse for not doing this one. I even knew which stuffed animal I wanted to make, and had the pattern drawn out and everything, but I had no money for materials because I had just paid off my student loans. And then, by the time I did have enough money again, quarantine was in full effect and I couldn’t go out to the fabric store. I’m still trying my best to stay out of public places even if the rules are laxer now, because I don’t want to catch the plague even if everyone in my goddamn city thinks and acts like the problem is over already. Even if they’re all wearing masks, even if they’re staying 6 feet apart, I still don’t want to risk it. I will stay inside until health experts give the all clear, and when that day comes, then I will buy some fleece and make a plush.

 Make An Enamel Pin: I ACTUALLY DID THIS ONE. TWICE! Halfway through quarantine, I was feeling anxious and depressed about my job and how they were planning to have me work with the public despite climbing infection rates and positive covid cases. I didn’t quit then, but in a desperate move to try and become self-sufficient, I went to madebycooper and made two enamel pins based on some butterfly dragons I drew last year. They’re on my etsy store now! I even went out of my way to open a P.O. box just to start a small business! I haven’t sold a single pin yet, and I’m actually really nervous to sell my first because I don’t trust the efficiency of the postal system thanks to the actions of the GOP that really screwed them over this year! (If you would like to see my enamel pins, click here!)

 Read One Book A Month: I did this! With dragon books I bought a couple years back! In fact, I read FOURTEEN dragon books, and still have more books for next year to read! The 14 books I read this year were:

 The Hive Queen

The Poison Jungle

Wings Of Fire Legends: Dragonslayer

Dealing With Dragons

Searching For Dragons

Calling on Dragons

Talking to Dragons

The Bronze Dragon Codex

The Brass Dragon Codex

The Black Dragon Codex

The Red Dragon Codex

The Silver Dragon Codex

Dragon Strike, and

Hatching Magic

 To be honest, I had read The Red Dragon Codex years ago when it first came out, but completely forgotten what it was about. I remembered liking it, and I knew the reading level was on the lower side, but the whole dragon codex series was pretty good! So far, the Silver dragon codex was my favorite, and black dragon codex was probably the worst! Hatching Magic was also really slow and bad and had plot points that went nowhere, but the book was written in the 80s, so I don’t know what I expected. The Dealing with Dragons series was very charming and great for the most part, save for one line in the last book that really rubbed me the wrong way, and all the Wings of Fire Books go above and beyond in this third arc. The second legends book could be a little tighter, though (sky and wren are the best duo and I want a book solely about them, but I honest to god do not care about leaf and ivy’s stories.)

 Write one Page of any story every day/ complete at least one fic: I… did this? Okay, I kinda cheated near the end of the year. I was keeping up the one page a day thing for the first four months, but then the world went to shit and my schedule and habits got disrupted and I fell off my good track record. I completed 7 out of roughly 12 one-shots I had planned for this year (my goal WAS supposed to be one short a month, but… you know how it happens) I kept trying to catch up on this goal all year, but the days kept piling up…. Until November hit. I managed to write over 250 pages for Nanowrimo, and I consider this goal a win. 365 pages of fiction in total, which averages out to about one a day~. SHUT UP IT COUNTS.

 Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make: Another goal I didn’t have the mental energy to commit to this year. Truly a mystery to where all our willpower went in 2020.

 Fully Finish Scripting Ghost Switch: still haven’t done this one yet! The Snowdin arc is completely planned, but I just haven’t gotten around to getting the other areas. I’m not worried, though. I know all the major plot points I gotta hit, it’s just weaving them together in a way that flows nice is the final task. I’m not too worried though. I don’t expect to finish the Snowdin arc for another year and a half, at the bare minimum.

 And my last goal of 2020, Boost My Patreon. I did this at the beginning of the year, but then very intentionally stopped about a third of the way through. It didn’t sit right with me to tell you guys to donate to me when suddenly EVERYONE was financially strained from layoffs or being furloughed. I told my patrons the same, and if you ever need to stop donating to me to take care of yourself first, then by all means, please do. I would feel much better knowing you’re using your money to see yourself fed and housed instead of given to me (where it is pretty much only used to buy gas for my car, honestly)

 Welp! That was all my goals for 2020! I achieved 4 out of 10 goals plus 1 secret goal! Pretty much the same ratio as last year, but now this time I can blame all my failures on the pandemic! I don’t feel so bad about myself anymore~

 ON TO 2021!

 I have 11 goals for the new year, again some rolled over from this list, and some from even older years. They are, in no particular order;

 Read 12 new books (roughly 1 book a month)

Finish the first draft of 2019’s Nanowrimo project and rewrite it

Script TDV

Finish Scripting Ghost Switch

Build A Comic Buffer

Sew 1 Stuffed Animal

Finish 1 Song Comic

Make another Enamel Pin

Finish 2 short original comics (this one counts as 2 goals)

Finish the 5 remaining one-shot fics

 Now to go into depth on each one, more for my own sake, really. I want to know exactly what I have planned for each goal this year, and sometimes just looking at a short list doesn’t capture all the smaller details.

 1)Read 12 new books. Same as last year! I The only difference is I might not be able to make it all dragon-related books. (I try my hardest not to buy from amazon anymore, but half-price-books doesn’t always have the obscure stuff I’m looking for)

 2)Finish 2019’s nanowrimo project. If you read my 2019 year reflection, you’ll notice I said I wanted to do some original writing. And I did! The story I wrote for nanowrimo back then was a story I’ve been toying with since 2017, but it was only last year I finally got pen to paper. Now, you may find it odd that the keyword says “finish”. You may think, “but isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for nanowrimo?” and to that I say, WRONG! I wrote 50k words for nanowrimo, but the draft was only about halfway complete. I was kinda discouraged about what I had written last year, because I didn’t like how it was coming out, but I did manage to get it half done. Now it’s time for me to bite the bullet and just finish the thing so I can finally revise it and make it into something I DO like. (It’s still gonna be hella long, tho. That’s what I get for trying to write an epic fantasy, I guess.)

 3)Script TDV. TDV is the abbreviation of the game I want to make. I… still need to do so much for this project OTL… In addition to getting the story solidified, I still need to draw art and game assets, and learn how to code for it, both of which are no small task. I keep having some sort of new year’s goal related to this on my list, and every year I just don’t hit this one. Will 2021 be different?

 4)Finish Scripting Ghost Switch. (Or at the very least, get the waterfall arc completely written out). I have a plan to break this down into simpler steps, by focusing on just one arc for a month or two. Every major arc has 2 to 3 parts, broken up by flashbacks, and if I can just finish one section a month, then I should have the entire thing scripted by the end of the year. It’s not a difficult pace, but seeing if I stick with it will be the real challenge, as it is will all my goals it seems.

 5)Build a Comic Buffer: I’m actually working on this one right now! Since I paid off my last loan and got a new job this year, my current Patreon goals are kind of out of date. They had all been centered around me paying off that last loan, and working towards full-time employment, but those are both completed now! So instead, I would love to get to a place where my patrons could read pages at least a week ahead, and to do that, I need to build a buffer. And since I’m working 5 full days a week now, I can’t afford to fall behind. But you can’t fall behind if you constantly stay ahead! I would like to have… a 10 to 12 page buffer. That’s roughly 3 months’ worth of pages to always have on hand in case I get swamped with work, or something. Right now I currently have a buffer of 3, which will cover me for half a January, which is better than not having anything at all, but still not the best. (ultimately, I would love to have a buffer so big, I could queue them up for the whole year. Wouldn’t that be something?)

 6) Sew one stuffed animal: same as last year. ASSUMING the plague gets under control in 2021, I don’t expect to get to this goal until the summer at the earliest.

 7)Finish 1 song comic: I have 7 song comics planned. One is a gift, one possibly for wandersong, one is a collab that’s currently in the works, but I’m waiting on a friend to do their part before I can continue mine, 2 are UT related, and 2 (well, technically 3, but one is the collab) are KH related. It’s one of the UT ones that will probably get finished, if I’m being honest. It’s completely story boarded, and now I just need to ink and color it. I would like to get it done for UT’s 6th birthday, since I made a song comic on the fly for the anniversary this year, and it was fun, and I’d like to do it again! So, look forward to that next september~

 8) Make another enamel pin: I have a dolphin design I’d like to make because dolphins are cute, if not little murder machines. (need to save up some expendable income first, tho. THESE THINGS AIN’T CHEAP TO MAKE.)

 9 and 10) start and finish 2 original short comics: I’ve got some comic ideas I want to do, but I need to get them written out first. I don’t think either would be too long. Each maybe a couple “episode’s” length, if envisioned on a website like webtoons or tapas. They’d both be heavy in allegory, but not overly drawn out (hopefully)

 11)And lastly, Finish the 5 remaining one-shots I had planned for this year but never got around to. I’m going to try to write one every other month. Pure self-indulgent shipping fluff. If I finish these 5, then maybe I’ll ask other people for more prompts and ideas, which I’ve never done before. We’ll see how it goes~

 Also, Like last year, I’d like to look at everything that’s happened to me this year, though to be honest, I’m not sure how much I remember/how accurate it’ll be. God, I don’t even remember what January was like. Who was I back then? Who were we all back then? I guess I’ll start my yearly retrospective in march because, heh, god we ALL know what started happening in march.

 Firstly, I paid off my last student loan! Then a week later on March 18th, I drove half an hour out of my city to adopt a cat and I love her and it was the best day of this year for me. Spring break is just beginning this weekend, but the attendance at the zoo is shockingly low this year. Apparently, a lot of people watch the news, and they’re all taking precautions about social distancing. I wasn’t too disappointed. Fewer people at the zoo, the easier my job is for me. I was looking forward to getting some free overtime on spring break, since I’m broke after paying off that loan, and I’m a cat parent now and have a furry child to feed. Monday rolls around. My manager calls me and tells me that the zoo is going into lockdown until further notice. I worry for the birds I take care of, but understand it’s for everyone’s safety.

 For two months I sleep in and watch way too much YouTube. I join a couple writing discords. I have nightmares about my birds escaping their enclosure and I dreamed one of the security guards I really like at the zoo gets covid and has to go to the ER. I woke up really upset.

 I started and finished BBS for the first time. I also replayed and finished KH2 final mix for the first time. It had been about 5 years since I last played KH2 before my PS2 died, and it was like coming home~ I also finished tearaway, and played and beat Ryme for a second time (which I can’t remember if I did that last year, but it was a fun experience regardless)

 Mid-June, and I’m allowed to start going back to work, be it on reduced hours. The zoo is still closed to the public, but I’m loving it! I get to work with full-time keepers and do full-time keeper things. It’s so much fun not having to deal with the public. August starts to creep up and there’s a rumor that the zoo will be opening to the public again, which I’m not stoked about. I don’t want to go back to standing in one exhibit all day, talking to guests who don’t listen to the rules or to me. 2 of my younger coworkers (who had both only been there a couple of months) get chosen for full-time positions, while I get passed up which really pisses me off. My other 2 coworkers quit when they think we might be reopening because they cannot risk catching the virus due to at-risk family. I am now the last keeper in the interactive bird exhibit.

 I keep working, the zoo slowly opens, but with me as the only interpreter in our interactive bird exhibit, we can’t open because I can’t run the entire exhibit by myself. So my exhibit stays closed. September comes and goes, and then October starts. Now there is more serious talk of opening my exhibit before the end of the year because the zoo expects to bring in larger crowds for the Christmas lights event in November/December. I ask if I get hazard pay or health insurance since I’m doing full-time hours until they hire more staff. They say no.

 I immediately start searching for a new job feeling incredibly indignant/hurt/slighted/insulted/used/abused/ALL the negative feelings at my job. I had been there for 4 years, but never got a chance to work full time, while the two newest hires who had only been there 2 months both got moved up. I can’t help but feel they were holding one mistake I made two years ago against me and never wanted to give me a chance. (that, or they knew I was reliable when it came to showing up for work in such a volatile position that sees a lot of new faces, and they didn’t want to bother going through the process of hiring someone new) I don’t want to risk my life working around guests who don’t wash their hands and don’t properly distance. I don’t want to gamble with my health when they won’t offer me health insurance because I’m part time.

 Mid October, I get an interview for a full time job and get hired on the spot. I peace out at the zoo 2 weeks later, literally 3 days before they planned to open my exhibit to the public. It was a close call for me to escape before they opened to the public (and pettiness was only partially the reason I dipped out so close to opening). Sorry new hires who are now in charge of the bird feeding exhibit. I taught you the best I could in the short time I had. If the managers are struggling with what to do with one less person, I can’t say I feel bad. I can only hope they delayed opening/closed you down again for your own safety. You are not lightbulbs. I really hope the higher ups stop considering you as replaceable as one. Will I go back to the zoo to visit? Probably. But not for a year at least.

 I started my new job the very next day after I quit the zoo, and have been there ever since, (which isn’t that long yet, tbh. Christmas day was my 2 month anniversary). It’s full time, but it’s also a small business, and everyone’s hours this year have been on the short side due to the plague. I understand, though. They don’t want us to work if they can’t afford to pay us. Everyone is nice enough, though some people smoke and it’s hard to avoid them with how frequently we have to go in and out, and I really don’t want to get lung cancer, sorry not sorry, please and thank you. Also, with such a small team, gossip is certainly harder to go undetected, so it’s a relief knowing people don’t talk behind one another’s backs.

 I participated and beat my 4th nanowrimo in a row, I made TWO apple crisps on thanksgiving, and made baklava on Christmas and both of these recipes were my first time making them, and they both came out adequately! I voted the first day of early voting, and I did an art trade/collab with two of my friends for my birthday! (normally we would have done monthly “art days” where we get together and do art projects for fun because we’re adults and we can spend our time together however we want, but the plague said otherwise this year) We drew pokemon and it was fun! (hopefully I can show you all the results soon. At the time of writing, I’m still waiting for the last two colored parts to get back to me)

 I reached 100 pages on my undertale comic, and finish the first arc out of…! (im not sure. It’s either going to be 4 or 5, I haven’t decided yet)

 Over all, I managed to stay healthy as far as I know. I wasn’t as productive as I wanted to be this year, but then again, who was? (don’t answer that. I don’t need that kind of comparison in my life right now)

 Will 2021be any better? Honestly? I don’t think so. Not right away, at least. Just because a new year is about to start does not mean the slate is completely wiped clean. The change of the calendar year doesn’t magically make all our current problems disappear. Covid will still be here and cases will still climb when January starts. Small business will still be strained when the month rolls over, police will still go on murdering innocent civilians and getting away scot free, amazon and disney will still be monopolizing all consumer goods and media, and I can’t help but feel like there’s an impending shit show about to go down on inauguration day. I do hope things will get better, though. It’ll be arduous and unpleasant, but I do hope things will improve, because sometimes hoping is all you can do.

 Good night.

[marvelficrec]

Tony Stark secret identity?

It’s a long list so it’s under the cut! 

I Said “I Love You,” What Does it Matter if I Lie to You? + 95k

18 year old Tony Stark is your typical teenager. Well, except for how he’s the playboy billionaire heir to Stark Industries and working on two PhDs. Oh, and 6 months ago he was kidnapped by - well, no one really knows who. Since his rescue (excuse you, Tony liberated himself), he’s also been keeping a pretty big secret. Here’s a hint: it’s shiny, red and gold, and flies. Tony’s had a productive couple of months, but the fact that his grandfather keeps trying to hire bodyguards for his “safety” is really putting a cramp in his ability to keep his secret superhero identity, well, a secret.

Steve Rogers wakes up in 2015 and finds out that he’s missed 70 years (Oh god, does this mean he’s 94?), a revelation that he handles with much less grace than usual. Mostly, Steve just wants to be Captain America again, but on his own terms and without a lot of fanfare. To fill the time while Steve tries to figure out the best way to resurrect a dead superhero, his good friend Isaac Stark offers him a job: bodyguard to Isaac’s grandson, Tony Stark - who seems to get into a surprising amount of trouble for a teenager. “There’s no better introduction to the 21st century than through Tony,” says Isaac. Somehow, Steve is not reassured.

don’t know why it took me so long to see + 11k

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

Saving the World (Is Totally a Date) + 64k + personal favorite

Tony discovers Stane’s betrayal while he’s still being held captive. When he escapes, he sets out to ruin Stane as completely and ruthlessly as he can, playing up his PTSD and quitting his job to destroy Stane quietly from the outside. He also picks up a teaching job-all Pepper’s fault-and oh, right, becomes a supervillain. Okay, that one was Tony’s fault, but it was totally an accident.

In the meantime, a certain Capsicle is defrosted a year early, and is assigned the task of capturing the notorious Iron Man. It’s not going particularly well, if the embarrassingly high number of times he’s been kidnapped in the past six months is any indication. When SHIELD decides to help him “adjust” by getting him a teaching job, Steve is skeptical; but then there’s Tony, and Steve finds he doesn’t mind the 21st century so much after all.

The Most Amazing Things (Some Terrible Lie) + 26k

Tony’s decision not to reveal his identity as Iron Man to the world was shrewd and calculated. Too bad it’s about to backfire on him like a Jericho missile.

Slipping off the Page into Your Hands + 68k + personal favorite

Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve’s problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony’s problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth.

Cherry Ride + 12k

A SHIELD agent named Roger Stevens told Tony that his nickname was “Cap”. Tony didn’t connect the dots until it was much, much too late.

Steve Rogers: Undercover Robosexual - 11k 

Tony Stark is a selfish, narcissistic asshole with a God complex, which makes his invention of the superhero Iron Man, an impressive android with an AI that surpasses even J.A.R.V.I.S. in complexity, all the more puzzling. Stuck in a future he struggles to understand, Steve surprisingly gets along with the bag of bolts more than any flesh-and-blood being. He often has to stop himself from taking chances with real human life (including his own) when Iron Man is in danger. After all, Stark likely has several back-up copies of Iron Man’s code, so he can always make another one, right? That’s what Steve tells himself anyway when he sees Iron Man flying a missile destined for New York City through a wormhole to destroy the Chitauri warship.

And then Steve gets a call from the man himself on his private comm channel.

“Hey Cap.”

“Stark, this isn’t a good time. I’m kind of in the middle of something. Can I call you back later?” Steve says, head tipped up to watch Iron Man’s ascension.

Bizarre Love Triangle + 1k

Once the idea was in his head, he’d started picking up on all kinds of things, like the way Stark talked about Iron Man with such affection, and seemed to share so many of his mannerisms, and was constantly working on ways of improving the suit. It was obvious.

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) + 35k

No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Wait & Sea + 50k

In which Tony and Steve get sent on an undercover mission aboard a cruise ship to make contact with Hydra. In this AU the military has kept the discovery and defrosting of Captain America a secret, so Steve and Tony have never met before. Yet they are to pose as newlyweds….

The Long Road Home + 47k

Maria Stark told her son that the Mark on his wrist meant there was a special someone out there just for him. Sarah Rogers told her son that his soulmate was waiting for him, and he needed to be strong for them.

Neither of them ever mentioned what to do if that soulmate just doesn’t want them.

I’ll Give You Gifts Until You Know My Name + 10k

Mr. Stark is an extravagant gift-giver: he has the money for it, after all. As Iron Man, Tony has the opportunity to gift Steve even more presents that, while less expensive, are more heartfelt. Having a secret identity means Tony gets to have his cake and eat it too when it comes to showering Steve with presents.

Until Steve starts developing feelings for his armored companion, and all the benefits of living a double life are turned on their head for Tony Stark.

Eavesdroppers Never + 7k

When Tony made the decision to have a secret identity, he had several well-considered and carefully thought-out reasons. But there were a few scenarios he never took into account. He never imagined that he, Iron Man, would be cuddling naked with Captain America in a Canadian shack in the middle of a snowstorm. He also never imagined that Captain America would pick that moment to tell him, Iron Man, about his feelings for Tony Stark. Uh-oh.

The Greatest Secret of All + 1k

Captain America and Iron Man are hit by a truth spell. So why is Tony Stark acting weird?

What Lies Behind  + 63k + im actually currently reading this

Four months after the Battle of New York, Steve Rogers still hasn’t managed to find his footing. The new century is strange and upsetting, and he appears to have no purpose in it. But when SHIELD sends him to liaise with the director of Stark Industries, his life starts to change in ways he could never imagine.

Or, the MCU-rooted AU, in which Steve and Tony both still maintain their secret identities.

Thank You Fics Round 3 - chapter three

How to Date a Superhero Without Even Trying (MIT!Tony Drunk Dials his Ex and gets Captain America)