#he seems the type to be able to flawlessly lie to someone's face

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

yeag

#i wonder if he could beat a lie detector test #well. probably easily if he doesnt have a heartbeat #and if he does... i believe in his skills #scribble garnish #wally darling #he seems the type to be able to flawlessly lie to someone's face #and i respect that! #lying is a good skill to have! especially when you're in His Situation!

[pascalpanic]

Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood

A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!

mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.

Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.

With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over  a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere.  “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #baby yoda #the mandalorian fanfiction #grogu #the mandalorian fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #din and grogu #mando x reader #mando

[fanfic-about-fictif]

Me? Jealous?

Type: drabble/oneshot

Pairing: Sage Lesath x female reader

Words: 1866

Warnings: no warnings

The meeting was over and Sage breathed out in relief. He stood up from the armchair and was ready to hurry out. But before he made his way to Saucy Gull, he wanted to make a quick stop.

“Is she in her room?” Sage looked from Anisa to Felix, whose back was turned and seemed like he didn’t even catch Sage’s question, too engrossed in the thick tome before him.

Anisa answered instead, resting on the couch with her legs on the armrest. “She is, but she’s got company.”

“Company?” Sage’s ears flicked, surprised.

“Yeah, she met someone when we went to the market together this morning.”, Anisa explained, smiling. “Seems like a good one. Handsome too.”

Sage frowned. “She met some guy?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Anisa stared at him, enjoying in watching him squirm a little.

She knew very well about Sage’s crush on their new companion, and vice versa for that matter, but didn’t want to meddle. Too much. She started to get more impatient, wanting sometimes to just yell at them to kiss already, but maybe her prayers will still be answered without her direct involvement. This seemed like a situation, or rather an opportunity, that will convince Sage to finally make a move, Anisa concluded.

“Of course it isn’t.”, Sage mumbled, starting to pace around the room and avoiding her gaze in the process.

“She’s very beautiful. It’s not a surprise she caught someone’s attention.”, Anisa grinned when she noticed Sage’s worried expression. This will definitely push him over the edge and make him do something.

“Indeed.”, Felix agreed. “I seem to remember him eyeing her even a few days ago, when she accompanied me to the bookshop.”

Felix adding fuel to fire, even unknowingly, was something that Anisa couldn’t have expected, but it worked like a charm. She almost wanted to cheer at how flawlessly this was all unfolding.

“I have to go.”, Sage concluded hastily and was out of the door before Felix and Anisa could even say goodbye.

Felix’s head popped up from his book and he looked over his shoulder to Anisa on the couch, who was smiling devilishly.

“Did I miss something?”

“Not at all.”, she answered innocently. “Everything’s perfect.”

“Huh.”, Felix glanced at the door and then shook his head, probably at Sage’s rudeness, and then turned his attention back on the book.

Maybe an hour later, Anisa went to bed and convinced Felix to do the same. Well, she actually threatened him, but Felix would probably say it was only an encouragement. When he made his way to his room, he heard someone shuffling in the hallway and abruptly stopped, listening. Using a neat little trick, one flick of his wrist and some magic was all that was needed to find out that Sage was sitting on the floor against the wall. Felix quickly turned a corner to face him, even startling him.

“What are you doing here?” Sage questioned with a whisper, standing up and brushing off invisible dust of his clothes nervously.

Felix furrowed his brows at him. “I do live here, Sage. What in the world are you still doing here?”

“Nothing.”, he answered too quickly, looking anywhere but back at Felix.

Felix then noticed that Sage was sitting right besides someone’s door before he came and saw him. Was he listening to what they were doing?

„Why are you waiting outside her door? I must say, I never would have pinned you as a creeper, Sage.”, Felix teased and Sage huffed at his words.

“I’m not creeping. I just…”

“Just what?” Felix looked at him, arms folded on his chest and one eyebrow raised in question.

Sage’s ears flattened against his hair in annoyance, while Felix stared him down; an impressive feat considering Sage was towering above him in height. Sage seemed to act like a child caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, while Felix resumed a role of the father about to lecture him about it.

Before Sage could say anything, that is, make up a plausible lie, they heard her erupt in giggles inside the room. When Felix saw Sage’s reaction upon hearing that, it all clicked into place.

Felix’s mouth spread into a sly grin. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” Sage almost growled at him, frustrated beyond belief, his tail flicking from one side to another wildly. This wasn’t exactly the kind of night he would have planned for himself.

“You fancy her. And you’re jealous.”, Felix shrugged like it was the most obvious and normal thing in the world, still with that sly smile.

“Me? Jealous?” Sage tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a nervous chuckle.

He was growing more restless and the fact that Felix caught him outside her room eavesdropping really wasn’t helping his mood at all.

“Come on, Sage. Isn’t this a bit pathetic, even for you?” Felix joked some more, but decided to stop when he saw Sage’s face.

“Shut up.”, Sage grunted.

Felix sighed. “Why don’t you just tell her?”

Sage snorted humourlessly. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“It’s not. You’re just too much of a coward to do it.”, Felix told him, sincerely and seriously, without a hint of a joke. “And one of these days, someone will beat you to it.”

With that, Felix walked passed him, deciding not to wait for any rude remark Sage would utter at him. He left him there, in the middle of the hallway, standing alone and lost.

Sage rubbed his face in annoyance, wondering how stupid this all was. How absolutely ridiculous he was acting. Seriously, he thought to himself, what was I trying to achieve with this?

Before deciding to leave, he pricked up his ears, not being able to beat his curiosity just yet.

“I think it’s time to go to bed.”, she announced, and Sage could hear the yawn in her voice.

“Oh?” the man piped up. “Is that an invitation?”

“Uhm… No.”, she answered awkwardly. “I really loved talking to you and getting to know you, but…”

“But, what?” the man questioned. “Don’t you want to have a little fun with me?”

“Not that kind of fun.”, she answered sternly. “Listen, I have to be honest. I loved spending the evening with you and I want us to be friends, so-”

“Friends?” the man huffed. “I’m not here for friendship!”

“Then I suggest you leave.”, she concluded.

“What?” the tone of his voice got more menacing. “I didn’t waste all my time for-”

Sage couldn’t stop himself, he was already opening the doors before he could even register what he was doing. He didn’t even have to try to muster a threatening face expression, it was already there to face the man who was quickly becoming an issue.

“You heard her.”, Sage growled, and made both of them jump in shock.

“Wait, what?” the man puffed his chest out aggressively. “You heard her too? Were you listening to us? What a pervert!”

“Sage?” she looked confused and Sage decided that was better than angry. “What are you doing here?”

“Get out.”, Sage ordered the man, turning his focus on him.

The man was in disbelief, looking from her, to Sage. He got tense as Sage took a step towards him.

“I think that’s a good idea.”, she told him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Shaking his head, he made his way out of the room, walking past Sage a little faster. She heard him mumble something as he was past the door, but couldn’t make out what exactly. Sage definitely could, because his eyes flashed red and he turned around in an instant to go after him. She was quick to prevent him from doing that, grabbing his muscly arm.

“Relax, Sage.”, she sighed. “Let it go.”

“He…”, Sage grunted. “If you knew what he said…”

“What did he say?”

Sage avoided her gaze. “Doesn’t matter.”

She shook her head, closed the door and then walked to the bed. She let herself drop face-first on the soft blankets like a sack of potatoes with a loud whump, and almost made Sage chuckle.

“Thank you.”, he could hear her mumble into the pillow.

Sage was silent, suddenly not knowing what to do with himself. Rage was still flowing through his veins, almost making his head spin and his vision blurry. But, when he noticed she was calling out his name, he abruptly snapped out of it, like it was only a daydream.

“Hm?” his ears perked up and he looked at her, now laying on her back, her limbs splayed like a starfish on the fluffy bed.

She made grabby hands at him, jokingly inviting him to the bed and making him smile wide, forgetting about anything else. He slowly made his way to her and sat on the side of the bed, pulling her against him into a tight embrace. Her hands tangled into his shiny silver hair and they both breathed out in relief at their proximity. They stayed like that for some time, their breathing slowing down and their hands caressing and comforting each other.

“I can’t remember the last time you didn’t speak this much. You’re kinda scaring me.”, she teased.

“Are you alright?” he asked hoarsely, in a worried tone.

“Of course.”, she pulled away slightly to look at him.

Sage closed his eyes, not wanting to look at her as he spoke in a whisper. “I don’t want to think about what would happen if I wasn’t here.”

When she saw his painful face expression, she almost melted. It was too much, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Surely he feels something more, maybe even something like she is feeling.

“Everything’s alright.”, she assured him, cupping his cheek in her hand.

He opened his eyes to look at her. “You mean everything to me. I don’t want something bad happening to you.”

She gaped in surprise, not knowing what to say. Upon seeing her reaction, Sage suddenly got sheepish, blushing and looking to the side, even pulling slightly away.

“I mean, I…”, he stuttered. “Sorry, I…”

She leaned in closer, the hand that was on his cheek now moving so her thumb could caress his lip. Sage froze, not expecting such an intimate movement. He noticed her gaze at his lips and then back at his eyes.

“Do you know why I wanted that guy gone, Sage? Even before he got so rude?” she asked softly.

Sage’s eyes flashed with fury at the mention of that man, but quickly faded away. He was preoccupied with her vicinity, her body so close to his in an embrace, her warm breath and sultry eyes.

“I could only think of you.”, she answered even before he said anything.

That was more than enough for Sage to close the gap between them, kissing her passionately and hungrily. She responded with the same fervour, arms encircling him completely. Sage concluded the kiss was much better than he even imagined it and wanted to stay like this as much as he possibly could. But, she pulled away slightly, smiling wide.

“Finally.”, she breathed out and they both laughed.

#fictif #last legacy #sage lesath #fictif fanfic #fictif imagine #last legacy fanfic #last legacy imagine #sage lesath imagine #sage lesath x reader #sage lesath x ofc #sage lesath x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #felix escellun #anisa anka #last legacy fictif #nix hyrda

[ontowanderlust]

Koi no yokan., phr. 

"There's a phrase in Japanese: koi no yokan, ever heard of that?"

She loves her friend, she really do. It's just that, of all Minor's impeccable timing, he chose to bother her on the hour where all she ever wanted was some peace and quiet, just away from people…even from her friend.

She could always drive him away, make up ridiculous excuses that even her father would have a hard time deciphering if what she's saying is true or not, but for some reason, she didn't have the heart to turn her friend away... nor lie to him as the boy could always see through her.

Heaving out a sharp sigh, forced out her reply. "Minor, not everyone has the talent to pick up new language as they please." she sounded patronizing but they both knew that's as responsive she can be.  

When she is greeted by silence, she turned her head towards her friend only to find him looking at her with those same owlish eyes, psychoanalyzing her as he said nothing while shaking his head.

"You look like shit,"

"Thanks, that's exactly what I want to hear, Minor."

"No problem!" the bastard really had the gall to beam at her, chuckling as he poked her cheek. "No really, what the hell have you been doing?"

"Studying," she replied dryly. "Can't say the same thing about you." he poked out his tongue in retaliation.

"Come on, do you wanna know what it means or not?" he asked her impatiently earning him a roll of eyes from her.

"Alright, I'll bite. What does it mean?"

For a moment, she could've sworn she saw her friend's eyes twinkle but when she looked closer, the twinkle was gone. Huh.

Minor shifted on his seat, angling his body to turn so he was facing her, giving her his utmost attention. "Koi no yokan doesn't have a direct translation but the closest thing to describe the phrase is... love at second sight."

She blinked, biting back a groan at his dramatics. "What does that even mean? You look at a person, they're not pretty enough, you look at them the second time, they're now lovable?"

There's something oddly comforting about the autumn rain, she mused as she sat by the bus stop, temporarily sheltering her from the downpour. Maybe it's because of how the rain makes the weather even colder-in which she would thrive the most, she'd often tell her dad.

Or maybe how the rain makes the world look alive, the rain being a blessing to the dying season- a gift by the goddess Persephone to her beloved world before she lets the world slumber, before she reunites with her husband that is.

Either way, it's nice, she decided, letting a small hum as she swayed on her makeshift music while her feet swung back and forth, not caring if the scenery before her was deserted.

Or not, from her periphery, she could see a figure emerging from the school building. From afar, she could tell there's annoyance painting his features as he looked up from the darkened skies.

He probably didn't have any umbrella with him, she deduced, feeling a little bit of sympathy for him even though she's in the same situation as him.

Despite the rain fogging up her line of vision, she could see his appearance and couldn't help but think how familiar he looked- was that the reason she kept staring unabashedly? Probably, but she couldn't deny the demand of attention just from his presence alone and if it weren't for the small sound coming somewhere near the trees, she wouldn't be able to stop staring at him.

Before he could even notice her, she ducked down the trees where she found a small cat shying away from the downpour of rain. Out of impulse she reached for her pristine white handkerchief, placing it on top of the cat's head- offering what little she can to give the cat shelter for the time being, even going as far as offering snacks as well.

She didn't know for how long she had been there, crouching as she watched the satisfied cat but the next thing she knew, a jacket was being placed on top of her head.

Surprised, she looked up only to see the boy- the same figure she had been ogling earlier, jacket less. It took her a moment to figure out what just happened before flashing a grateful smile for the boy and his small sacrifice. She opened her mouth to give her thanks only for the rain got heavier, leaving him no choice but to run from it.

As he fled, she came out of her stupor, yelling her gratitude, not knowing if he could even hear it from the echoes of dripping water.

Oh well, there's always next time, right?

He looked at her as if he had grown another head, reaching out to flick her forehead to which she protested at. "Hear me out, okay?"

She narrowed her eyes at her friend but gestured for him to continue.

"It's like this, koi no yokan is when you look at them, you see the possibility of falling in love with them."

She let out a scoff. "What, like soulmates? It sounds like you don't have a choice in the matter."

Watching her friend launch into his ramblings, she couldn't help but smile at the effort her friend is putting through just for her. He may not be much but she knew her friend had sensed her wallowing in self-loathing. And as her friend delved into the discussion of soulmates, she couldn't help but reach over and ruffle his hair to which he protested at, claiming his head is far too precious than hers.

She wanted to hit her head on the piano keys over and over and over. She would gladly done so if it weren't for the fact that the grand piano was owned by the school and she might get killed by their principal for destroying the beautiful instrument.

In her defense, she just really wanted to be able to perfect the piece she had been painstakingly practicing for weeks now however there was this particular note she had been stumbling upon, messing the entire thing.

Closing the piano, she turned her gaze over the window where the gingko tree proudly stood by.

If you could talk, Mr. Gingko Tree, what would you tell me right now? She giggled at the silly thought that crossed her mind, the solitude getting to her as she cracked her knuckles before opening the piano once more. Just as she turned her attention back to keys, she swore she saw something white flashing by the window. A figment of her imagination, perhaps?

As her fingers fly through the keys, she swore the gingko tree were swaying, the leaves falling as the melody surged. She liked to think it was the tree's way of encouraging her and when she managed to play through the note she was having a hard time with, she felt her happiness being carried by the wind.  

Before she knew it, she was singing along the music, silently and softly as if it was a secret not shared beyond the four walls of the music room.

And as the music come to close, she glanced back to the gingko tree, surprise creeping on her face as she saw the boy she had encountered before, currently perched on the lower branch, his back turned against her. His shoulders were rapidly rising and lowering as if climbing a tree took a toll on him.

Is he actually a weakling? He doesn't seem to be the type.

Doesn't matter. As she lifted her fingers from the keys, she gave the boy a silent bow as if the performance was all for him- even if he couldn't see her bowing at him.

Maybe next time, she'd be able to play with him in the audience and maybe when that happens, she'd be able to give him her overdue gratitude.

"Are you still listening?"

Minor's voice broke her out of her reverie, giving him a sheepish smile to which earned her a sigh as she gestured for him to continue his spiel, curiosity getting the best of her, wondering what prompted him to go on about random Japanese phrases out of all things.

"It's like...a feeling when you meet someone that you're gonna fall in love with. Maybe you don't feel anything now and you doubt you'll feel anything for them but it's inevitable that you will."

She felt like a bucket of freezing water was poured over her, her breath hitching as Minor-despite all the ramblings- managed to hit her where it matters.

Despite his appearance, despite what he had shown the world, he really is in tune with people's emotions.

But no matter, it's not like she'd readily tell her friend about how close she had guessed what's bothering her the entire afternoon.

[I don't know you, but I want you, all the more for that...]

Gavin. His name is Gavin, she smiled to herself, her fingers gliding through the keys, flawlessly playing through the notes of the song that has been stuck in her head the past few weeks.

She swore it was just curiosity- her asking for the mysterious boy's name from Minor, that is. She only asked  so she could find him easily to thank him from the little shelter he gave her way back then- his jacket all dry cleaned and ready to be returned.

Easy peasy.

She swore that's all it was. It has been weeks since she asked Minor and yet, here she was, hiding away in the music room. It has been weeks and yet she had never made the move she swore she's gonna do.

[Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice, you'll make it now...]

It was faint and yet she managed to pick up the sound. Musician's ear, she bragged one time to Minor when he complained how easily she heard his quiet muttering. It was faint and quiet and if it weren't for her beloved musician's ear she wouldn't have heard the soft strumming of guitar coming from the adjacent room- the music room that was reserved for classes.

She might be a little obvious with her spying but she couldn't help but pause from playing just so she could focus on the sound.

It was a little clumsy as if the person was playing by the ear, obviously they didn't know the song but for some reason they were playing along to her music, making her heart skip a beat.

It might be a coincidence, her subconscious thought, not letting her hopes get the best of her. Shaking her head, she continued to play slowly as if she's giving the person a little leeway so they could catch up with her, subtly of course. She didn’t want to scare them off, after all.

[You have suffered enough, and warred with yourself, it's time that you won...]

And just like that, they both found their footing quickly as if they were meant to play the song together. For the first time since she set afoot in the music room reserved for her, she found someone she could play with- quelling this small sense of loneliness within her.

And, she dared to think that maybe, just maybe it was the guy who she kept seeing from her periphery. Gavin, she thought. His name is Gavin.

[Falling slowly, sing your melody, I'll sing it loud...]

Scoffing, she shied away from his knowing gleaming eyes. "That sounds so cliche. Like a quote from a book."

"It actually is." he agreed, pulling the aforementioned book in line with her sight, brandishing it as if it's the next best thing. "Nicola Yoon's The Sun is also a Star. The book club just finished reading this book the other day. See, I did cover for you!"

She gave him a pointed look. "I'm oddly proud at what you've become. Look at you, listening in on book club meetings!" she grinned, pinching his cheek while he swatted her offending hand.

"In the wise words of Andrew Taylor, it senses the first tentative tremor of a feeling." his gaze on her softened as she stiffened from his gaze. "It's a surrender, above all, to the magic of potential." he whispered, crossing his arms on the table as he laid his head there, staring at her, all jest completely gone.

"Call me whatever you want but you...you just thought of someone didn't you?"

Rumors are nasty things.

If she's ever in need of reminder why she decided to be by herself instead of surrounding herself with huge groups of friends, it's because of rumors spreading around. It doesn't matter if a person is good or bad, if the student body decided they're interesting enough, be sure to expect rumors coming through.

"Really? Tsk. And people say he's really cool to be with."

"I know right? I heard his father is the Loveland City General! He must've come from affluent family right? So why would he bully students for lunch money?"

"Maybe he's in it just for the sake of it?"

"That's sickening. He's worse than I thought!"

Whispered conversations floated throughout the entire school. She's not dumb not to know who they were talking about but with every conversation, every whispered rumors came with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

He's not...he's not like that, right?

"I know you're kind, but if you're not careful you might get swept up with the bad kids. I'm just saying this since I'm looking out for you. You're a candidate for valedictorian place right?"

"People like him aren't bound by the rules. Sooner or later you might end regretting if you ever sided up with him."

"He's got the looks. Don't get fooled by him."

Please stop, she wanted to plead with them. They don't know him enough, she wanted to argue but then again, so had she. What does she know? How confident was she to defend someone whom she had limited interaction with?

"Just...stay away if you know what's best for you."

Hanging her head low, she clutched the paper near her chest, a small apology dying upon her lips.

Written on the paper was ink clear as day, Saturday 9 am, I will be waiting for you.

She let out a bitter laugh, joining her friend as she buried her head on the space next to Minor's head, hoping that by doing so, she's able to bury the feelings raging deep within her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Can you wait for me for a little bit more?

Hi. Hello! I did say that I am not writing long fics as of now but this idea has been haunting me for some time now. Don’t be deceived, I’ve written a similar piece which is posted in ao3 and what I did with this one is that I’ve tweaked it to suit the fandom more so even if the idea is similar, it’s not. 

Also. High school AU! where MC is actually secretly pining for Gavin cause why not right? That high school timeline is really helpful so thank you, @ginkgomoon​ you’re such a blessing to someone who sucks at keeping track with the timeline like me!

Do check out my other contribution to the MLQC fandom aka MLQC Dictionary and send me some prompts if you guys wanted to. 

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fic #mlqc gavin #mlqc bai qi #mlqc haku #mr love queen’s choice #mr. love queen’s choice #mr. love dream date #mr love dream date #mldd #love x evol #evol x love #koi to producer #love and producer

[elareine]

Snow comes down in June (TimKon)

“I don’t know if this was a good idea.”

Tim flinched, and Kon cursed himself and his big mouth. “Not like that! The sex was awesome. Obviously.”

“But?” Tim raised an eyebrow, visibly trying not to look pleased with the compliment.

“What now? Not going to lie, I’m pretty into you. It’s just…”

“We’re friends,” Tim finished for him, understanding blooming on his face. “And we live together.”

“Yeah. Dating would be difficult, and you’re, like, important, dude.” It was true. As amazing as last night had been—as much as Kon wanted nothing more right now than to add to the hickey already blooming on Tim’s pale throat—the idea of losing Tim made something in his stomach clench and scream.

Tim considered the problem for a minute. Kon waited him out patiently. His friend always needed his time with this kinda stuff.

“Yeah, I can see where you come from,” Tim finally agreed. “Friends?” He reached out a hand.

Kon grinned, relieved, and took it. “Best friends.”

In the spirit of everything being completely normal and fine, Kon decided to go and get laid with someone else. And he was lucky: The second girl he struck up a conversation with at the student bar seemed to be down. Kon liked the humor in her intelligent blue eyes; the way she gave back as good as it got, and didn’t beat around the bush when she asked: “So, your place?”

“I live at the dorms, so… How about yours?”

“I got three roommates, so no way.” She smiled, putting her hand on his shoulders. “Surely, you can arrange something at your dorm?”

Something in him squirmed at the idea of texting Tim and asking if he could scram for an hour or so. “Uh. My roommate—he’s sick. Don’t wanna kick the poor guy out when’s already feeling like shit, y’know?”

“Uhuh.” Her eyes had turned skeptical. “Sure. Maybe another time, then?”

“Yeah, that—that’d be nice.”  

But she didn’t give him her number, and by the end of the night, Kon headed back to the dorm alone.

Tim looked up from his laptop in surprise. “Oh, hey. Thought you were heading out tonight?”

Kon knew his outfit (tight black shirt, even tighter jeans) gave him away. He also knew that Tim would be kind enough to let him get away with it if he lied, so he shrugged. “Changed my mind. Wanna watch some Star Trek instead of working on that essay?”

“Yes, please.”

Okay, so that hadn’t been ideal, but whatever. He just had to get used to the idea of Tim as just his buddy again. Next time.

When Kon tried again, it wasn’t at a bar, but the Cockpit, their local queer club. As a group, they came here often. Sometimes one or two of them decided to streak out on their own if someone caught their eye, and today Kon was determined that it would be him.

It didn’t take long before some caught his eye. Pietro, his name was, and he was slim and athletic, just how Kon liked them. He seemed amenable to the idea, too, chatting with him for a while and agreeing to being bought a drink.

When he stepped up to the bar, though, Kon got a surprise. “Tim? What’re you doing here alone?”

Tim shrugged. “The others wanted to dance. I’m just not in the mood.”

From the corner of his eyes, Kon could see Pietro turn around and smile at him, clearly expecting him to walk over any second now.

“Go on,” Tim gently shoved his shoulder, though he wasn’t smiling. “Someone’s getting impatient.”

Kon looked helplessly between Pietro and Tim. It was no contest, really. “Actually… I’m starving. Wanna see if the caf still has some of those pancakes?”

Tim’s face lit up. “Sure.”

Pietro turned away, disappointment evident on his face.

Urgh. Kon was destined to not get laid again ever. Problem was: When he looked at Tim’s smile, he didn’t even mind all that much.

Maybe, Kon thought, the issue was that he’d been focusing on himself instead of Tim. Perhaps he just needed to see Tim be happy (or at least smexy) with someone else to get over this entire thing.

So the next time they went to the Cockpit, he made a point of nudging Tim toward every guy that looked even remotely interested, even going so far as ditching him when one was finally coming over to them.

The next time he checked, Tim and the dude were getting it on on the dancefloor. That was some foreplay right there, Kon thought, watching in fascination. Plan flawlessly executed, then. A+, well done.

It felt good. Really.

“What’s got you looking like old sour grapes himself?” Cassie slapped his back, making him almost choke on his drink.

“Just watching Timmy get some.”

She followed his line of sight and whistled. “Not that’s a catch.”

Kon frowned. “Ya think so? I’d have said he’s not pretty enough for Tim.”

“Pretty.” Cassie stared at him. “You think Tim’s into pretty boys. Pretty.”

“Yeah, you know, like those boys in his judo magazines. Dude looks more like a jock.” A thought struck Kon. “If he’s doing this to make fun of Tim—”

“You know what.” Cassie took a deep breath. “I wash my hands off you two. Go fuck in an alley for all I care, I’m gonna get another drink.”

Hurt, Kon looked after. Why would she say something like that? He was just trying to look out for his friend!

…was he?

The bus ride back to campus was way too quiet. None of the others had wanted to leave yet, but Tim had been busy with Jock Guy, and Kon hadn’t trusted himself not to interfere if he stayed. So. The first bus home it was.

At least this gave him plenty of space to be mad at himself. What the fuck did he think he was doing? He had no right to be jealous of whoever Tim was fucking. It had been Kon who’d suggested they stay friends, after all.

Worse, Tim had been unbothered by Kon’s earlier attempts to hook up with other people, so it was just Kon who was stuck on that night.

Images played in his mind of Tim grinding against the other guy at the club, shaking that tight butt of his in the adorable way he had when he was trying to be sexy. His mouth must've tasted so sweet, just like when Kon had been the one kissing him—

Kon banged his head against the window and cursed.

“Why in the world are you reading your English assignment at one in the morning?”

“Why the hell are you back already?” Kon asked in return, blinking. He’d only been home for half an hour. Tim must’ve taken the bus right after Kon’s. “What happened to what’s-his-name?”

Tim made a dismissive noise as he took off his shoes and coat. “Not really my type.”

“I knew it,” Kon whispered under his breath in triumph. Louder, he asked: “What did you end up doing?”

“Ditched him while he was in the men’s room.”

“…that’s cold,” Kon laughed. He wasn’t proud of it, but man, that felt good to hear.

Tim shrugged again, letting himself collapse on the bed next to Kon in a graceless heap. “Don’t really care. He’s not important.”

“Aww, c’mere.” Kon pulled Tim into his lap, knowing how cuddly the other got when drunk. Tim made a contend noise in reply, settling down into a nap while Kon kept reading.  

It was comfortable, Kon realized. Despite their claims to the contrary, they had been keeping a careful distance between ever since that night; only now, drunk and tired, did they seem to be able to cross it.

He wanted to spend forever like this.

Well, then.

“Hey, Tim?” Kon asked.

“Hmm?” Tim’s eyes opened slowly.

“I’m. Not great at getting over you.”

Tim was silent for a moment. “It’s only been a month.”

“Yeah, but.” Kon made to gesture at his himself, only to realize that Tim’s face was angled away from him, his hair hiding him from view. “It’s kinda getting worse.”

“Worse?”

“The, you know.” Kon really wished he was better at this. Hadn’t he considered himself smooth just last week? “Being in love with you thing.”

Those blue eyes still weren’t looking at him. “I thought we agreed it’s too difficult. That I’m too difficult.”

Ah. There lay the rub. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at his friend’s self-deprecating dramatics, Kon gently took him by the shoulder. “Turns out, I don’t want easy. I want you.”

Finally, Tim looked at him, his eyes big and hopeful in the lamplight. “Are you sure? Because. You gotta be sure. I’m not doing this again.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Kon smiled.

“…and you couldn’t have figured that out about a month ago?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me.”

Turned out, Kon hadn’t lost his ability to get laid, after all.

#timkon #elareine writes #advent calendar 2019 #yall ever wanted to yell at your characters

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

Misery Loves Company part 1

                                         Chapter Three:

                     The One Where Violet’s Invention Works

Lemony Snicket could not believe his ears. There was no way that Arthur Poe was taking those children to Olaf’s. That was never the plan. When Beatrice was pregnant with Violet, she and Lemony always agreed that Violet would be sent off to Montgomery Montgomery if anything were to happen to both of them or Bertrand. Olaf was never a part of that plan. Even when everything in VFD was perfect and fine. Olaf never struck either of them as a parental type. He’d be as good of a father as Esme Squalor would be a good mother, which was very unlikely. Both of these characters from Snicket’s past were narcissistic and only truly cared about themselves when it came down to it. So Lemony knew this was a huge mistake. A mistake he had to fix. But how? He was on the lam after all and anyone who knew of his innocence believed him to be dead.

When he finally made it back home, Violet looked at him questioningly. “Why are you covered in ashes?” she asked looking at his suit.

“Oh, just some on the side investigating,” He half-lied. “Have to pay the bills somehow.”

Violet looked at her father in utter confusion. “What are you investigating?”

“Oh, honey. That’s not important. I’m home I really don’t want to talk about work,” He said trying to desperately change the subject. “So how have you been,”

He hadn’t noticed when he walked in, but Violet’s hair was tied up in her classic red ribbon. “I’ve been working on an invention.”

“Of course and what has my brilliant inventive daughter come up with this time?” he asked smiling. He was always happy to hear about Violet’s inventions.

“Well you see,” she said untying her ribbon allowing her brown locks to fall passed her shoulders. “I’ve combined this old toaster with our grandfather clock...I am trying to get the clock to control the toaster but you see…” Violet knelt down next to the invention and Lemony took a seat on the other side of it. “I’m having a problem with the grandfather clock,”

“Can you show me what the specific issues are?” Lemony asked, “Maybe your old man can help.”

“Of course, Mr. Lemons,” Violet said with a small giggle. She, of course, being fourteen had outgrown her nickname she had given her father when she was just a young girl but she knew how much it made her father happy to hear that his little girl was still his little girl. Violet started up her invention and to the untrained eye, it seemed as though it worked flawlessly like all of her other inventions had. “See? It toasts the bread but the minute hand keeps falling behind five minutes.”

Lemony merely nodded. He was someone with an untrained eye because he hadn’t noticed that. “It...could be a problem with the gears?” he replied, trying his best to be of some assistance to her.

“Well, that would be disappointing. I made them myself,” she replied sighing.

Lemony stood up, “Well maybe you should come back to this one. I know you’ll figure it out kiddo, you always do.”

Violet nodded her head but didn’t look back up at him. She had the stubbornness of her damn mother. She tied up her hair again and went to work trying to determine the issue with her invention. Lemony smiled as he walked to his small desk.

At least she was distracted with an invention, that gave him time to figure out where to start in his quest to figure out what happened to Beatrice and what he could do to help her children. There was no way he was going to sit back and allow Count Olaf to take custody of those kids. Especially when he knew that Olaf hated Beatrice and Bertrand, and him for that matter. Those kids were not safe. He looked over his shoulders and made sure Violet wasn’t watching him as he unfolded the newspaper article and began to cut out the picture of the two kids and the picture of the burnt remains of the Baudelaire home. He made sure to cut out any mention of the word ‘Baudelaire’. He couldn’t let Violet know what had happened to her birth mother. Not yet, at least. He had no idea how to go about telling her that all of his research and investigating had failed them both. He was never able to locate Beatrice and she was living in the same city for who knows how long. He also didn’t want her to learn about the fact that she had two half-siblings, whom she couldn’t help. It was his fault, that they couldn’t help in the best, most sensible way possible. He didn’t want to lie to her, but he had to protect her. There were too many secrets in his past that were better left unsaid. He would one day explain everything just not today. Not any time soon. She was still a child, he wanted her to keep her childhood for as long as she could. Heaven knows, he didn’t get that chance. He remembers being thirteen when he had started his apprenticeship and he remembers his siblings being even younger than that. It was somewhat of a blessing, as well as a curse for everyone he knew to think that he was dead because that meant none of them knew about Violet’s existence, which ultimately meant that at least right now, she was safe.

He tacked the two black and white pictures on the wall in front of his desk and began to jot down notes. He needed intel. He thought about who he could call. Who he could trust with the knowledge that he was alive and well. He refused to mention anything about his daughter. There was no one he trusted with that information, not even his siblings. They were still too involved with VFD. They always had been. Lemony feared they always will be. He, too, at one point in his life was very much into VFD and their rhetoric but so many horrible events in his life changed that. Did he still follow them? Yes. Loosely though. He had to. That way he would know the phrases or codes that would help him detect if someone was VFD or not. Like the storekeeper. The storekeeper had commented that they ‘didn’t realize this was a sad occasion’, Lemony knew, just like any VFD member knew, that the correct response to that statement is ‘the world is quiet here’. But Lemony bolted out of there with Violet before the storekeeper could recognize him.

He thought long and hard. Mr. Poe worked at Mulctuary Money Management...Lemony was sure that there was someone there from VFD in charge of making sure things go according to plan. There had to be. This organization wouldn’t leave their precious future recruits solely in the hands of one of the most incompetent bankers that Lemony had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Lemony took the chance and looked up the number to the bank in the phonebook he found in the drawer of the motel room’s nightstand.

“Mulctuary Money Management. Mr. Poe’s office.” a woman answered.

Lemony didn’t recognize the voice but he hadn’t been in the loop with this organization in nearly fourteen years. He sighed and turned again to Violet to make sure she was tinkering with her invention and not eavesdropping on his conversation. “I didn’t realize this was a sad occasion.” He whispered into the phone.

He could hear the woman gasp and he thought he heard her drop a pen on the floor and scurry under her desk but he could be mistaken. “The world is quiet here,” she replied in a whisper. “May I ask who’s speaking?”

Lemony closed his eyes. “Snicket.”

“Jacques?”

“No.”

“Well, Kit...you sure have mastered the art of sounding like a man. I couldn’t tell it was you at all,” the woman replied.

“No...I am not Kit, either,” he replied still glancing over at Violet.

“Well. You can’t be Lemony. He’s dead.”

“Not as dead as Beatrice,” he replied in a low whisper.

“L-lemony? Is it really you. The Daily Punctilio…” the woman began.

“ The Daily Punctilio is lucky I haven’t decided to sue them for defamation and the only reason I haven’t sued them is that I am on the run.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

Lemony looked again to his daughter. “I’ve been in hiding. But that doesn’t matter right now. That’s not why I called. I called regarding the Baudelaire case.”

“Oh.” the woman replied. Lemony could hear in the background that a man, he assumed to be Mr. Poe since Lemony could hear this same person in a fit of coughing yelling at the woman.

“Jacquelyn! Jacquelyn!” he could hear Mr. Poe call out.

“Now isn’t a very good time, Snicket,” Jacquelyn replied. “Why don’t we meet somewhere and we can have a chit chat about that .”

“Fine with me. Although, you will have to meet on my terms. I am on the run and I can’t afford to get caught. I have...I have too much to lose.” Lemony replied.

“Where will we meet?” Jacquelyn replied as she rolled her eyes when Mr. Poe called out her name again.

“Meet me at the building where this all began.” He said simply. “Tonight. 9 o’clock. Come alone.”

“Got it,” Jacquelyn replied hanging up.

Lemony hung up the phone and was startled to see Violet was now right behind him. “Dear God, sweetie. Are you trying to give your old man a heart attack?”

Violet smiled, “Maybe…”

“Did you get the grandfather clock to work?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s next on the agenda of Miss Violet Snicket?”

Violet shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I was hoping to work on my invention that would help me retrieve a rock that I’ve skipped into the ocean but to do that...we’d have to go to Briny Beach.”

Lemony thought about it. He hated going out in public, especially to places that would be more likely to be crowded. He glanced out the window. It was a dark, cloudy day. Briny Beach was usually desolate on days like this. He looked at Violet who was wearing her famous puppy dog face.

“Please Mr. Lemons,” she asked keeping her puppy dog face in full view. Lemony sighed.

“I can be ready in ten minutes…” He said.

The trip to Briny Beach was a quick one. Lemony was lucky enough to have a taxi cab as a car from his days in VFD. He used this on rare occasions and after the stint in the store, he didn’t want to risk being recognized anywhere else. He also was simply not in the mood for interactions of any sort.

Violet glanced out the car window. “It’s so weird that we have a taxi,”

“I told you, Violet. Your uncle gave it to me a long time ago.”

“I know. I know. After he helped you escape the authorities. So when will I be old enough to know what really happened that day?”

“Hmmm...how old are you now?” Lemony joked as if he didn’t already know the answer to that.

“Fourteen.”

“Maybe when you’re fifteen.” He watched her smile fade. He knew she hated secrets, she hated not knowing things especially things about her parents. “Why do you want to know such a dreadful story anyway? It’s not like it ends happily…”

“Well, if you think about it, it hasn’t ended yet. It can still end happily.”

“Spoken like a true optimist.”

“I’m not an optimist, I’m a realist. Besides, you’re the one who told me that stories don’t truly have a beginning or end. They all interject into each other, new stories begin in other stories and life is just a bunch of stories sewn into one.” Violet stated matter of factly, “and all endings are not real endings just new beginnings to different stories.”

“Trust me. This story doesn’t end happily, Vi.”

“I want to believe it still can. We can find her one day. We can be a happy family.”

Lemony frowned at this. He knew he had to tell her, it just didn’t seem right. She was happy, she was excited about her newest invention and he knew this news would kill her. He just gave her a small smile. “Well, I will say...the story did get happier after a while.”

“Why?” she asked glancing out at the window again.

“I may have lost her...and everything else but I gained the whole world.” He said simply looking at her and not paying attention to the road. Violet smiled at him. “I gained my daughter and sure, it wasn’t due to circumstances that either of us liked but in a way, I do have everything I ever wanted.”

“Except for her,” Violet stated.

“But I have you.” He reiterated. “You know, you remind me so much of her every day, Vi.”

Violet looked down at her locket and opened it up to look at the picture of her birth mother that Lemony had put in the locket for her. The picture was one of Beatrice from one of her stints at the opera house. She wore a gorgeous dragonfly costume and she was smiling holding a bouquet of violets in her hand.

“She named you after her favorite flower and color, you know.”

Violet nodded but kept looking at the picture. “How’s your investigation going? Have you found any new leads?” she asked hopefully not looking up from her locket.

Lemony sighed, keeping his eyes on the road, “Nothing yet. But I am sure some news will come up.”

“I hope so, I wish nothing more to meet her.”

“I know. I wish you could meet her, too.”

“Do you know what I would tell her if I ever have the pleasure of meeting her?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me…” Lemony began.

“I would tell her that I understand...I understand why she had to give me away. I would tell her that I don’t hate her, even if she continued living her life and got married to another man and had other children; I would tell her that I understand...the timing was off.”

Lemony was taken back by what his daughter just said. He had always believed most kids with the upbringing that his daughter had would show some resentment towards the absent parent. It’s not like he wanted her to hate Beatrice, he much rather she is understanding and respectful...it was just quite odd to him. He glanced at his daughter as he began to park the taxi alongside the beach’s entrance. Maybe he didn’t completely fail Violet. Maybe he was doing a good job being a father to her. For her to be this mature at such a young age, he wondered. “That’s...very mature of you, Violet.”

Violet smiled. “Honestly, it would do me no good to hate her. How would we ever have any kind of relationship if I don’t at least meet her halfway.”

As Violet got out of the car and raced down the desolate beach, Lemony trudged slowly behind her. He wanted to cry. He wanted to just break down right then and there in the hot sands of this beach. Violet was so optimistic about meeting her birth mother and unknowing to her, she would never get that opportunity now. It made him feel only a bit better that Violet doesn’t hate Beatrice. But what if she knew the truth? What if she knew about VFD and what he and Beatrice did to fuck up their lives so much? Would her opinion on Beatrice change? Would her opinion on him change? He couldn’t afford that. When it came down to it, Violet was his only family. Unfortunately, for Violet, that sentiment worked both ways. He was her only family...that she knew of. He quickly thought about Beatrice’s other children. He hoped Count Olaf wasn’t harming them in any way. Tonight, he would talk to Jacquelyn and figure this all out. Maybe he would be able to get everything on track...maybe...just maybe.

When he finally reached Violet she was already setting up her picnic basket in the sand and looking around for a rock. He watched as she began to tie up her hair to keep it out of her eyes. “Need any help, hun?”

“No...not yet. Do you know the angle of the prevailing currents?” she asked not looking up at him as she was too busy looking for the right projectile. Lemony merely shrugged. “It’s fine...it’s more important if I can find the right projectile.”

She reached down and grabbed a regular looking grey rock. “Do you think this would work?”

“Hmmm...maybe we should find a rock that’s not sandstone?” Lemony replied.

“Ah-Ha!” Violet cried out as she picked up a smooth disc-shaped rock. She studied it with a puzzled look on her face. “Are these teeth marks?”

Lemony rushed to her and examined the rock himself, he had never seen a rock so smooth and disc-shaped before in his life. He could see what Violet was talking about. The rock did look like it had teeth marks on it but Lemony couldn’t think of what kind of animal or marine life could have made such teeth marks.

“They look human-like,” Violet said still studying the rock, forgetting about her invention.

“Violet...there’s no way a human-made those marks. What kind of human would bite a rock?” Lemony replied laughing.

“I don’t know. A baby with piranha teeth? Maybe?”

“Now, Violet. Doesn’t that seem silly to you? A baby... a human baby with piranha teeth? Honestly, with an imagination like this, you should dabble in writing.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “When I was a baby, I had sharp teeth.”

“Not sharp enough to bite a rock,” Lemony replied laughing.

“I’m still going to say it was a baby with piranha teeth.” She said laughing. “Whoever or whatever it was...I wish I could thank. This is the best projectile for this invention.”

Violet pulled out a small piece of white chalk from her pocket marking the rock with an X. She placed it into her left hand.

“Violet? Why are you using your left hand?”

“I’m curious to see if I can skip the rock further with my left hand than my right.”

“Now, you know I don’t mean to criticize but standard scientific method calls for stable systematics. You should use your right hand.”

Violet laughed but smiled at her father. He was right. She hated when he was right but he had to give him credit. He was paying attention to her attentively as he always had. The attention made her feel special. She knew she was his entire world and he was her entire world but it made her feel special to have a father who not only believed everything she created was the work of a mechanical genius but she had a father who paid very close attention to her and her inventions so much that he even noticed her trying to change which hand she would use to skip the rock. She placed the rock into her right hand, “That does seem sensible,” she replied as she skipped the rock using her right hand. The rock went far into the ocean, skipping about eight times.

“Dad, what was that thing Einstein said?” she asked smiling.

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science.”

“Now, what’s that thing James Brown said?”

He chuckled, “I got something that makes me want to shout. I’ve got something that tells me what it’s all about.”

Violet smiled turning a small knob on her invention and Lemony couldn’t believe his eyes, a mechanical arm rushed out of the picnic basket and extended itself to the far depths of the sea. After a moment, it stopped and the mechanical hand went into the ocean and in mere moments, the hand reappeared above the water holding the same rock that Violet had marked with an X. The mechanical arm reeled itself in after dropping the rock into Violet’s hand. Lemony was purely amazed. Sure he had seen many of Violet’s wonderful inventions throughout the years but she still could surprise and wow him with every new one she showed him.

Violet stood up, her face lit up with a smile. Her father hugged her as they both exclaimed, “I’m super bad!” Violet started laughing.

“It worked!” Violet squealed happily.

“I never expected otherwise, dear,” Lemony replied still hugging his daughter.

Yes. Violet’s invention worked. This would be a perfect time to leave. You can pretend that the rest of the story of Violet Snicket was as happy and wholesome as this day on the beach was. You can pretend that Lemony does get every opportunity to tell her all about his past when she turns fifteen or you can continue reading on and with each turn of the page, with every new chapter, you can weep and wish that you had taken my advice. For you don’t want to know what happens on Violet’s fifteenth birthday. You don’t want to know how she spends the rest of this story as bitter as her father drank his tea. You don’t want to know all the dark secrets that she uncovers and the questions that she never gets answered. You can leave right now. No one will blame you. I wish I would’ve seen this coming and maybe I wouldn’t be as haunted as I am these days. Although this chapter ended happily for Violet Snicket, I reiterate my promise that very few happy things happen in the lives of these three children. Indeed, Violet Snicket doesn’t start to suffer the hardships of her siblings until later on in this tale but that does not mean that her story is filled with happiness. Her story is full of secrets, betrayals, and dark discoveries that I promise you will change her life for the worst. So look away before it is too late.

#violet baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #sunny baudelaire #count olaf #asoue #baudelaire orphans #beatrice baudelaire #vfd #netflix asoue #lemony snicket #bertrand baudelaire #asoue 2004 movie #asoue netflix #daniel handler #asoue fandom #beatrice baudelaire ii #asoue fanfic #asoue movie #misery loves company #violet snicket #asoue 2004 #asoue fanbase #asoue au #violet snicket au #bad beginning #snicket file #kit snicket #jacques snicket #asoue fic #jacquelyn scieszka

[wtfzodiacsigns]

The Signs as People I've Come To Know

Note that everyone described was born under the sign they are listed next to.

Aries: He doesn't really know fear, but when he does it's intense fear. More than anything, he is a daredevil, going from place to place and from person to person quickly and dangerously. He tells jokes until they're soiled and sour and you just wanna tell him to shut up, but you know you aren't going to because his stupid jokes that often make no sense and aren't even funny are all a part of what makes him who he is, so you can't help but laugh, and at the end of the day that's a person you find yourself always coming back for. A person you just genuinely want to be around for a long time. He can be air headed, but he protects ferociously and is endearingly kind to strangers. Inside, he never quite lost his childlike nature, something I hope he can one day embrace. I also hope he can one day understand, he is not his mistakes.

Taurus: She has a lot to say that she keeps inside, but whenever she does speak it is always soulful and insightful beyond description. It's so easy for her to get lost in her own mind, and though she doesn't care to admit it, it happens a lot that she shuts down and isolates herself. But everything is honestly better when she's around. Sometimes it's hard to convince her of that, but she has an inner and outer beauty that glows on everyone she meets. She doesn't realize other people take notice of her radiance. When she retreats, it's not uncommon for her to be quiet and not really know how to explain why she's feeling the way she is, and yet she approaches things with such an extreme level of insight and consideration. She makes everyone around her proud. Introverted as she may be, she pampers all her friends, even when they may not deserve it, and she's more brave and outspoken than I think she understands. She is one of the people who genuinely makes me happy.

Gemini: She is curious about almost anything and everything, and invests fully into things that interest her. It's actually beyond pleasant to watch her work out a task she loves working on, or talk about anything she loves in general, because her eyes light up and she has this smile on her face and you can just tell in that moment she loves being heard and she loves sharing what she's come to find wonderful with someone. I wouldn't call her quiet, at times she is, but I would first use the adjective "thoughtful" to describe her, as her mind is constantly generating new ideas. She processes and remembers information quickly and speaks about her feelings almost fluently. More than anything, I hope she knows I am always there for her. I hope she knows how much people love her. She is so kind, and a delight to be around.

Cancer: She has been through a lot. She used to walk through life with a heavy heart, but she is trying to learn how to remove the crutches and take everything as it comes. Very driven by her emotions, she experiences drastically different periods of highs and lows, but never lets anyone go to bed without knowing how much she loves them and cares about them. She has certainly been done wrong by the world, and this has led her to experience frequent trust issues and to on occasion become suspicious about other people's motives. However, this doesn't stop her from giving her all to those she loves, even if at times they may not completely deserve her help or her advice. She often settles for less than what she deserves, but I hope that she can eventually come to understand she need not settle and need not cater to people who do her wrong. She should look out for herself too, it's something she owes herself.

Leo: Though I haven't known her for very long, it's clear how influential she is and how in tune she is to other people's feelings. She seems very open to the world around her, and has no problem expressing herself without fear of what other people may think. She always does her makeup almost flawlessly, and you can tell she dresses for herself and no one else, and only worries about impressing one person, her. She is extremely loyal to those she cares about, and often talks about them as if they are wonders of the world. Even if you haven't spoken to her before, you will want to, because she gives off extremely positive and warm vibes, and publicly stands for everything and everyone she happens to believe in. She has a big personality, but a beautiful one at that, she is a true individual, and is one of the only other Leo's I've come to know, as well as one I hope to know better soon.

Virgo: She is wise beyond her years. She often works harder than most adults I've seen, although she is young in age. She always wants to make sure she has a say, but it's just as important to her that other people do, too. Other people don't always treat her as nicely as she deserves to be treated, and it's because they think they don't understand her, but in reality, they wish they had the heart and bravery that she does. She has accomplished and been through so much in such a short period of time, and she never let it taint all the love in her heart. She can be a bit anxious and scared, waking up at night after a nightmare or worrying she has not done her best, but she always gives her all, and I strongly believe there is nothing she cannot surmount or accomplish. Always willing, always eager to help. I wish I had her strength. I wish I had the beauty of her soul. I hope she someday sees how magnificent she is.

Libra: He is a character, he has always been a character dating back from the first day that we met. Everything he does and everything he says is with good intent and magnifies his already vibrant personality. Overall, he is a people's person, friends with everyone who is kind and attentive toward him. And he plans to keep it that way. He always tries to see the best in everyone. Although sometimes he cannot continue this and experiences outbursts of anger, they are usually temporary and he can move on from situations quickly. He is a marvelous friend. Creative, funny, often indirect, but always there in some form. Half the things that Come out of his mouth are jokes, but when he speaks and he's being serious, all you can hear is his heart speaking too. He's great to have around.

Scorpio: He says that he has a twisted mind, but really he's just into a lot of horror movies and has extreme reactions to otherwise small situations. I couldn't see him harming a fly, unless the fly went and did something to really piss him off. He can be a little self centered, but he is also self sufficient and just wants to make sure he himself is okay. When he starts something, it'll get done before he moves onto the next thing, and he's not really one to leave anyone with unanswered questions as he's pretty intense and direct. He's great to talk to because no silence is ever awkward, some of those silences are necessary and he knows it. He won't let things stay quiet for too long, either. One of my favorite things about him is once you've been a part of his life, he'll never forget about you. Even if you're miles and miles away.

Sagittarius: He gets extremely excited about small things, like going on a trip or hanging out with his friends and playing video games. He knows no part of life is insignificant, and that everything we go through either means something or leads to something else, but he also knows when to let go and stop worrying about things that are out of his control. Overall, he loves to have fun. He loves to laugh with his friends and share what makes him happy. When people disagree with him, he can become rather snippy, and might even resort to telling them they are flat out "wrong." He doesn't realize he's being rude, but often it just doesn't come out the way he would like because he speaks exceedingly freely. That's what he is, a free spirit. He makes decisions for himself and is not afraid of his opinions. He will share them willingly with anyone who asks and takes great pride in being who he is and leading the adventure called his life.

Capricorn: She is aware of who she is, what her limits are, and what her intentions are as well. Though sometimes she surprises others by acting the way one wouldn't have expected, she is consistently trying to take responsibility for things she know she's done wrong and does not like it when people refuse to acknowledge it when she has been acting like a fool. She holds herself accountable for many things, even when they are not exactly her fault, and she refuses to be kept in the dark for too long. When people don't like her, she wants an explanation, because she always tries to do her best and be the best version of herself she can become. It hurts her to consider that she is not doing well with that. She wants stability and security, she wants to be able to feel safe in situations, and that's all a part of what she fights for. Overall, life is a fight she does not want to lose. And one she will not allow herself to.

Aquarius: She is one of the most artistic people I've had the privilege of meeting, and decorates everywhere she goes and everything she creates with her glowingly positive vibes. She cares deeply about her friends, and however quiet she has a brilliant way of words, and is a phenomenal person to have a late night (or any time of day really) conversation with. She understands life on a deep level that not a lot of people do. Although she may not always feel comfortable completely showing her emotions, she is not afraid to be in touch with them and always knows how to nicely phrase them. I'm grateful that when I ask her what's wrong, she doesn't lie to me and she trusts me enough to talk to me about it. I know it's not always the type of thing that's easy for her. She is artistically talented in every aspect, and aims to perfect her performance in all she does. But honestly, the way she adds her own flair to all she accomplishes and makes it so original is an amazing thing to witness in itself.

Pisces: He doesn't understand the impact he can have on others. It is not uncommon for him to get so lost in his thoughts he forgets about the rest of the world, but he seemingly always finds his way back. Whenever he drifts, he will usually talk about it at one point or another, and he always has all these philosophical things to say that never cease to amaze me. His speech is always sweet and fluid, and he always sees things, both their interior and their exterior. Even though sometimes he asks silly questions, he's highly perceptive and caring. He loves having a good time, but he loves talking about life and all it entails as well, and he knows that both those things can overlap. He's one of the greatest friends I think I will ever know, and he always tries to be, even if at times he can't. I wish he came out everyday.

Source:avenge-my-ghost

#aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #zodiac sign #fun facts #horoscope #zodiac #astrology #facts #fact #weird #weird sign #zodiac signs #aries facts #taurus facts #gemini facts #cancer facts #leo facts #virgo facts #libra facts #scorpio facts

[cerberosthehellguard]

Panic! at the hook-up (part 3)

Rating: M (this is a lie, It should strictly be T)

Pairings: AkaFuri. Slight Nebumibu, Murahimu and Midotaka.

Characters: Akashi Seijuro. Furihata Kouki. Mibuchi Reo.

Word Count: 4700+ words (this is NOT the final chapter, unfortunately)

Tags: Aged-Up Characters. One Night Stand AU. Fluff. So much Fluff. Awkward conversations are awkward. Dorks who don't know how to get their shit together. Reo the Angel Incarnate. Author is very sorry for splitting the chapter. Okay not so sorry. Just feeling Evil.

Parts: Part 1/Part 2/Part 3(here)/Part 4(coming soon!)

Summary: Akashi woke up after a drunk one night stand feeling at peace with the world. Unfortunately the brunet in his arms doesn’t seem to think the same way. (or an AU where Furi and Akashi have been scarred by terrible relationships in the past that one never wants to get into them and one waits in vain for someone to love him back)

Author’s notes : |||orz terribly sorry for cutting the chapter short! Its just got wayyyy out of hand and I didn’t want to dump too much in one go. So.....splitting into two! As always, thank you so much for reading and following this story!! It all ends with the next update! (which will be posted soooooooon!!)

AO3 Link right here!

Seijuro rapped his knuckles impatiently against the metal door of the nondescript building. The area the address had indicated looked like something anyone would miss in the passing, not offering a second glance. It had no discernible boards or colourful nameplates that made it stand out to the passerby. Nothing, to show that it was an art studio of one of the most sought-after names in the Art World. And yet, Seijuro stood in front of it, rather irritably, for more than twenty minutes in the frosty weather.

"Maybe he couldn't hear you. Isn't there a bell around here somewhere?" Reo was next to him, puffing clouds of air into his gloved hands before rubbing them. His hair was pulled back into a stylish yet unkempt ponytail, few strands tugged loose to drape his cheekbones artfully, giving him the Gallery Owner Look (whatever that meant, Akashi had waved it off when Reo started to explain enthusiastically), and the side clips had been abandoned - courtesy the aforementioned Look. 

Seijuro huffed slightly, straightening his coat - his trench coat that still smelled faintly of alcohol and sex, in spite of the cologne he had sprayed on it. He hadn't been able to let go of it long enough to give to Reo for dry cleaning. Yet. "I don't know. Why don't you give it a try?" 

Reo shrugged and looked around, careful not to touch anything lest it dirty his feather-soft leather gloves. Not even Eikichi was allowed to touch them. He teased Akashi more than once on his intolerance of tardiness during meetings. Besides, he needed Akashi in a nice enough mood to handle the client today. “Oooh, you are prickly today, Sei-chan. i wonder what has gotten into you today. Or,” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively and leered at Akashi, "should I say, I wonder what you missed getting into today."

Ugh. This wasn't going anywhere.

"Reo." One mild glare and a single word command. It was ample to shut up Reo. He knew what Reo was doing. And he knew, Reo had a point. He cannot go to this meeting without being calm. No matter how much he burned with the urge to go home now. 

Seijuro took a few deep breaths. The awkward morning, the acute absence of a proper shower, the slight - slight, tiny - stock dip in one of the Northern branches that had sent his phones and emails flying with notifications before he could set it right and mediate long enough to placate everyone involved and now, the actual act of getting a commission from one of the most finicky - and possibly too introverted, if he was being honest - artists he had had the misfortune to encounter, was getting on his frayed nerves. He just cannot let his mood get any worse. Not if he wanted this meeting to go well. Especially with this one. Especially for Father. (Which added to the irritability factor, but that’s a story for another time).

This artist had been fickle to a point where even Akashi, the Master of Negotiations and Diplomacy and the Embodiment of Patience and Politeness, was compelled to chuck the phone at the wall imagining it to be the artist’s face. 

Furihata Kouki had refused, even after countless wheedling on Reo's part - who was gifted with a silver tongue, so honed, strong enough to make the Devil dance to his wishes - to visit their premises, refused to take them up on the offer they proposed and kept mumbling about "too many people crowding him" and "money-minded midgets" and "suits made him wary" and “lawyers are untrustworthy leeches”. Akashi was ready to fling him bodily across the ocean and he hadn’t even met the man yet. 

It had been troublesome, tiresome and whole other -somes, but not impossible if it meant, for them to come to him with their offer and seek him out on his home ground, on his own questionable terms. They had had to pry him with a dozen phone calls to get this appointment and the bastard wasn't even opening his door. Seijuro swore.  

Akashi, normally, wouldn't have bothered with this Diva-type attitude, would have cast him and his newfound fame away like yesterday's newspaper. When he could have had thousands of artists who would willingly queue up around the block and answer to his beck and call, just to have a minuscule - one in a million - chance at displaying one of their pieces at the Akashi Gallery, this seemed like trying too hard for something that might not even be worth all that effort.

It was the newest, spiciest, freshest talk of the business world - The Akashi Group opening a huge gallery that displayed artworks from all over the world, portraying just one theme.

Love. 

Be it any genre, any medium, any form of Love, Akashi Gallery would have it shown, after personally approved by none other than Akashi Masaomi himself. It was the brainchild of both Seijuro and Father, to give the Gallery as a gift to Shiori as a celebration of 30 years of marriage. A small token of appreciation as an anniversary gift to the woman who flawlessly managed to keep them both in line for all these years. 

And Father had apparently seen a work of this artist abroad and was immediately impressed (which had never happened before, and Akashi could second that statement veritably) and insisted Akashi to bring him in. 

"Use any means necessary. I need the best work of his to be the Centerpiece at the Atrium." He had looked straight into Seijuro's eyes and calmly said, "Don't fail me, Seijuro."

Akashi internally bristled, recalling the meeting.

It was for Mother.

All this was for Mother.

He chanted that a few times in his head, to calm himself and not show any indignation towards this Furihata Kouki guy, who had already pissed him off and he hadn't even seen his unfortunate face. And that wasn't the only hurdle he had to tackle. No. 

For anyone to be this private about their private life was good and respectable and all that jazz but in a business context it aroused nothing but suspicion. Reo had conducted thorough background checks but apart from a few cursory details from previous galleries where his works had been displayed, he hadn't been able to snatch a photograph of him anywhere. His contacts - extensive and exhaustive in their right - hadn’t been able to make out anything other than “an ordinary skittish guy who looked like any other struggling artist and worked only through commissions and was too choosy”. Believe him, he knew how ‘choosy’ Furihata Kouki was. 

Akashi did not like dealing with the Unknown. As a principle. He couldn't gauge his further actions that way, apart from a few calculated guesses and made-up possibilities. He liked to speculate sure moves beforehand and he, terribly, did not care for going blindfolded to this fight. And, if Furihata’s Diva-ness was any indication, there definitely would be a fight. 

So, in a word, frustrated. Added to the incidents leading up to this day, he was more on edge than anything.

 “I can’t take this anymore. Let’s go.” Seijuro nodded decisively to Reo before he pushed open the metal door and walked inside. Reo followed, a little stunned at the informality of his actions. 

The sunlight from the open door rushed to stream in to fill the darkness, as there was only one light switched on inside the huge studio. The sole overhead light was enough to illuminate the table underneath and cast shadows over everything outside of its circumference. There were strange whirring and thumping sounds coming in from the back but otherwise the spacious room was annoyingly unoccupied.

“Those noises must have droned out the knocking.” Reo mused, stepping in carefully. 

Seijuro curled his lip slightly, “If it didn’t, and he is playing with us, I am walking out of here. Father’s request be damned.”

“Now, now, Sei-chan,” Reo pushed one wayward lock of hair behind his ear and reached to pat his free hand on Akashi’s shoulder reassuringly, “Let’s not be hasty. He might just turn out to be alright.”

“Hasty?” Seijuro shot a glare at him out of the corner of his eye. He was still near the periphery of the studio, with his back to the outside world as he tried gathering his strength to face the man, “He has been testing my patience for months, Reo. And, not to brag, but I have dealt with far worse and had come out unscathed. Yet, something about him is getting me more hacked off, by the minute. And we haven’t even seen each other!”

Reo sighed, “I know. How could I not, Sei-chan? I was there for all those phone calls too, wasn't I?" He rubbed a tired palm over his face and took a deep breath, “Just try to give the guy the benefit of doubt, would you? We need him and he might just turn out to be a normal, scared-of-the-Big-Corporate-Guy, starved, validation-hungry creator for all we know. Now come on in, we can’t mope there all day.”  

They didn't bother closing the door as they shuffled in, observing the silent chaos of the studio. The windows were grilled shut, layers of newspapers stuck to them to avoid any form of light or dust to enter. The floor space and the numerous tables had art works on them, littering every inch. There were canvases - covered and uncovered and blank - and paints and brushes and tarpaulin and wood chipping and saw dust and knifes and paper mache - Akashi feared they had hardened to the bucket more times than they had been used - and marble and granite and rocks of various sizes and varieties and hammers and tools of every kind in a chaotic mess (Arrangement? This mess was by design? Akashi wondered, disbelieving) across the room. 

Reo gave an impressed whistle. Even Akashi was amazed.

“Usually artists dabbled with one medium, but this one seems to be versatile. Isn’t it good luck to find him here, Sei-chan? Now we know he is definitely worth his salt.”

Seijuro nodded grudgingly, “Either he was trying to be creative in everything he wanted to play with or he had an unreliably short attention span.” He moved around the room, judging the work propped directly under the light, “Based on the unfinished drawings and half finished sculptures, I am inclined to believe the latter.”

Reo caught on, hiding his smile, “But you can see how Akashi-san was impressed so quickly, can’t you, Sei-chan.” It wasn't a question. Reo knew. Akashi knew too. 

Seijuro said nothing as he turned his face away. The sounds continued, coming in from the back. They both strode gingerly towards it, the sole ceiling light in the studio not helping them much in maneuvering around the works. There seemed to be another room, off the far wall and nearly hidden behind the large shelves, the noises increasing in their volume as they neared it. 

Reo nodded to Seijuro before he opened the door and stumbled back slightly as a strong wave of heat engulfed them from the other room. They stood at the doorway as they watched the artist - definitely the artist, because he was also known for not engaging any assistant or student, as he had so snootily, Akashi might add, stated in one of their numerous, altogether unhelpful, phone calls - bang metal against metal, the heat from the continuous thwacks sending sparks flying every time the hammer attacked it precisely where he wanted.

Akashi cleared his throat rather pointedly and loudly over the din, announcing their presence. Furihata Kouki just raised a gloved hand like a stop sign and continued with his work. He was fully protected, the metal mask and the vest and gloves showing wear and tear and he didn't take his concentration off his task. 

Reo put a hand on Akashi's shoulder and made him take a step back, a small hesitant smile on his face. Akashi acquiesced. They could wait a little longer, he supposed. Furihata Kouki wasn’t going anywhere. No where to run anymore, he thought with glee. 

This sobered him enough to breathe easier. He felt relaxed now. In control. 

Akashi watched with concealed interest, as the guy expertly molded the metal to what he deemed to be content with - to Akashi, it still looked mangled but he wasn't the expert here and he admitted, with grace, that an artist would probably see things that he couldn't as a layman - and set the burner in a safe place slightly farther away and dip the hammer and other tools including the work piece in a tub of water. The water bubbled rapidly at the heat, fizzing angrily and sizzling at the surface.

The artist didn't acknowledge them as he walked past the doorway to the main studio, closing the door behind him and moving to remove his thick, sturdy, workman gloves, one by one off each finger with his back facing them. Akashi and Reo exchanged a look as they watched him, deciding whether he was purposefully ignoring them or waiting to talk to them without his gear on. 

He swiftly pried himself off his protective vest when Reo spoke up, unable to be quiet any longer. "Furihata-san, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person! I am a huge fan of your works! Good job with that wrought iron! What is it going to be, might I ask? A unicorn like the one shown in the Okinawa gallery?!"

Furihata turned with helmet still on, and chuckled warmly. “Ah, a fan? Thank you so much, it makes me happy you like that one - wait, let me get this off, I am being rude.” He shifted, taking off his helmet and letting the messy brown locks free. Some stuck to the back of his neck and the light sweatshirt he was wearing - which Akashi noticed, seemed a little too big for him - stuck to his lithe frame, due to the heat he had been in. That was a rational explanation. No need to salivate over a sweaty lithe body at all. No reason at all, Seijuro. Why was this affecting him, anyway? 

He stretched his back, highlighting his lean muscles, popping the kinks in his shoulders loudly with a satisfied groan - Akashi shifted subtly, thanking the shadows for hiding his blush - and faced Reo who had walked over to stand at his side. “I have been working on that one for a while now but, I don’t think it’s listening to me properly.” Furihata added with a rueful laugh, “Or, maybe, I don’t think I am hearing it right.”

Reo smiled understandingly, “Oh, but I am sure, you will get it right soon, Furihata-san.” He added, with a pointed look in Seijuro’s direction, “We all need to have a little bit of faith, don’t we? And besides,” Reo demurred, his smile turning coy as his eyes slid to Furihata again, “I never thought the artist of so many great works would be this cute!” 

“Look at you! So young and so talented, Furihata-san!” Reo prattled on, it coming to him like a charm, “You had us believe you were an old man, scared of the young generation, with all those calls. I was half convinced I would be shouting the entire proposal to you to get you to hear. See! I even brought my tiny magnifying glass for you to check things with.” 

Furihata rubbed his nape, blushing at the praise and vainly trying not to laugh at the tall, beautiful man with a ponytail - a ponytail, fuck - and dazzling turquoise eyes, “Ahh. Um. Thank you, I, uh, enjoy making things with my hands ha ha. Been always creative, my mum used to say. And ahhh, you shouldn’t say I am cute when, um,” - he scratched his cheek, eyes looking away from the tall, beautiful, skinny - fuck, he could give Tatsuya a run for his money - man who stood next to him - “you, yourself look like that. I mean, um, wow."  

Reo was practically vibrating in place, barely restraining the urge to hug the poor, hapless artist, at that point when Akashi gave him the Look, reminding him of their business. Reo can flirt in his own time. Akashi needed to get back to the office, as soon as he can wrap this up, lunch be damned. It was already noon and who knew how much longer the negotiation will take.  

“And ahhh, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude or anything! It may have sounded that way, but I, uh, I am very wary, you know?” Furihata rambled on, genuinely apologetic by his tone, and Reo nodded companionably by his side at proper intervals, “Wary of who is handling my stuff and I don’t want to deal with a lot of people because I get nervous easily and yeah....pretty much that’s why I make people come here. To the studio. So I can be relaxed when I deal with them. Well. Tiny bit relaxed, I guess?” He looked at Reo and smiled shyly when Reo sent him a winning smile in return. 

Hook, Line and Sinker. Furihata Kouki had fallen. As if there had been any doubt.  

This was Reo’s biggest selling point. Put the client at ease, charm them enough lower their guards, before Akashi went in for the Kill. Akashi stood further away, unseen by the dim overhead light of the room, observing the brunet. 

It looked like he had seen him somewhere, but he wasn’t completely sure. His voice, his body, and that bloody infuriatingly apologetic tone most of all, seemed too familiar, but he just couldn’t place it. The thought nagged him, too much, adding to his increasing frustration and worsening mood.

Calm. He needed calm now. He had the upper hand. Always. 

The Akashis had the upper hand and they were always Calm and Collected. 

Deep breaths, Seijuro.

And, definitely, don’t think about the brunet from last night, now. 

Fuck, that’s not helping. 

Or how Furihata’s messy hair reminded him of the brunet.

Seijuro, No.

Inhale.

Did the brunet also have a large sweatshirt that made Seijuro want to fuck him in it?

Exha-Fuckkkk. 

"Ah~ before things get out of hand," Reo gestured to where Akashi stood; and with an artsy head tilt, his hair dancing like they had been scripted to, he went on, "I would like to introduce myself, Mibuchi Reo - you can call me Reo-nee, please, won’t you, Furihata-san?" he pouted at the blushing guy, "And would like you to meet your prospective client, the one and only, Akashi Seijuro.” 

Reo stood to his full height and beamed at Furihata - he was starting to like Furihata, a lot, already - and with a sly wink, “And we, at Akashi Corporations, would certainly be immensely pleased if we had the utmost honour to display one of your illustrious works at our new Gallery.” He dipped his head in a slight bow, ending with a dramatic flourish.

Perfect Reo, Seijuro smiled fondly before schooling his features to a polite indifference. The upper hand, he reminded himself.  

Seijuro straightened at his name, stepping into the range of light, mentally going over the countless things he could say to placate the artist into commissioning a piece. It didn’t matter if he was dealing with the Unknown, he still had his contingency plans in place for each carefully evaluated scenario. He would just have to be flexible with the dealing now and craft a concrete plan that Father would approve. He would excel today. 

Furihata flushed and gaped at Mibuchi-san? - Reo-nee, now, his mind unhelpfully supplied - and slowly spun to where Reo was gesturing, a polite smile stretching on his face, braving himself for hours of bargaining and rightful pricing. God, he hated bargaining, but he would get paid shit if he didn’t. Necessary evil and all that. 

Red met brown. 

And time froze.

*

Reo’s eyebrows were in the danger of being swept into his hairline. 

One look at Sei-chan, and Reo came to startling realisation that Furihata Kouki meant something more than just an investment, badgered into by Akashi-san. The totally, too cute to be true, badly in need of good food and sleep, artist was frozen at his side, quite possibly just a scant few seconds away from hyperventilating, but Sei-chan - King of Poker Face, his normally unfazed Sei-chan - looked like the wind had been, frankly, punched out of him. Now, that was quite a revelation.

Shock was written all over his face but also...a tinge of hurt (??!!) before it was carefully masked by his perfect Professional Façade. Reo did a back-take.

Hurt??

Sei-chan?

By....Furihata-san?!

His instincts rang off little alarm bells as he whipped his head around so fast, to analyse the person who had dared to bring about such a look on Sei-chan. He once-d over the artist with a different view now - a very critical, judging one - to pinpoint in what way he could have hurt Sei-chan. 

Furihata was looking like a fish out of water now, opening and closing his mouth wordlessly and staring at Akashi in horror. Or sheer terror, maybe. Reo pursed his lips and scrunched his brows to figure out what the hell had happened between them, delectable artist or not.  

There was no chance they had met previously - Reo was the only one close to Sei-chan since their school days, and nothing went past him without notice - and he knew Sei-chan's previous flings too, worthy, distinguished, well-known men all including that nearly invisible and awfully sarcastic man, but none had caused this much of an impact on Sei-chan. Not even when they left Sei-chan, and all of them had; Sei-chan had never slagged once in his competence and conduct, never truly showing what he felt. Despite all the fruitless prying on Reo’s part.  

Reo would have missed them if he wasn’t scrutinising with scary attention, when he noticed the nearly invisible reddish marks along the line of Furihata’s bony neck. Teeth marks, they had to be, for sure. 

Then.....this person could only be...Oh.

Oh.

Ohhh.

Oh my.

Sei-chan, you lucky bastard. 

Furihata Kouki at the precise moment, seemed to have gathered his power of speech and spoke in that cute, adorably squeaky voice of his, “Ehhh...ummmm, He-hell-lo...?” 

Thankfully, Reo had more control over himself, otherwise he would have started giggling at the way the brunet blushed to the tips of ears and down his neck and gripped onto the table until his knuckles turned white. He was staring at Akashi similar to something straight out of a horror film, and he was trying really hard not to run away. Reo wanted to hug him or snicker at his face. Or both. He couldn’t decide.

Oh. The sheer drama.

Deciding that these two wonderfully oblivious idiots needed a moment - a lot more than a moment, he corrected, hastily - alone, and they probably, most definitely, had already forgotten Reo was there - if the way their eyes never left the others' was anything to go by - he excused himself and walked away from the scintillating scene in the studio. It was hard, dreadfully hard walking away, but he did. He deserved a medal. 

Closing the heavy door noiselessly behind him, he leaned against it and cast his eyes heavenwards. And burst out laughing. He clutched his sides, leaning forward and felt tears prick his eyes.

Of all the places in all of Japan, he shook his head. 

Only Sei-chan.

Fate’s favourite child, Shiori-san would say.

Yeah. Favourite.

Reo tried in vain to control as the next set of helpless peals of laughter threatened to spill out of him. His stomach hurt and his eyes were moist. And the peeling paint of the building was dangerously close to touching him and tainting his expensive coat. He heaved heartily and gulped lungfuls of air and brushed himself off any imaginary lint that might have dared to land on him. He peered up at the building from the pavement, sighing to himself.

What he wouldn't give to witness and document the drama that was about to unfold inside.

But.....some things were better heard as a retelling than seen first hand.

Besides, he still had to extract the full story, piece by excruciating piece from Sei-chan before he got to the current part. He did not particularly care for spoilers, even though he could foresee the ending of this particular situation. He prayed for Sei-chan to not fuck up now. Or Reo would have to kill him. Slowly. Painfully.

And as an added bonus, he would get the story from Furihata-san as well, after Sei-chan eventually gets closer to the him. If, Sei-chan doesn’t fuck up and actually talked stuff now. Dear god, he better talk. Or else. 

Perhaps he should go back and make them talk.....no. 

They would figure it out. They were adults. Nearly 30. Oh, his Sei-chan was almost 30. How time flie-Anyway!

They would talk. Sei-chan won’t let go of the contract. Akashi-san had been almost adamant about it.  

And Furihata-san was interested enough to commission for them. 

So, they would work things out. 

Hopefully. 

Maybe. 

He should take a peek, just in case. Check if things are going smoothly. 

No, Reo. No. 

He sighed again and sent a fervent prayer to any of the Gods who could hear him. Although....

If this turned out well, he would have a happy Sei-chan, a pleased Akashi-san, an impressed Shiori-san and most importantly, an adorably messy haired and ridiculously easily flustered Furihata-san. His Sei-chan would have a date now. A date who very well had Reo’s Stamp of Approval stuck on him. A boyfriend, hopefully. He could easily imagine him and Eikichi having dinner and movie night with Sei-chan and Furihata-san. Who would probably then be.....Kouki? Kou-chan? Kou-chan. Nice. Would it be too soon to call him that now? He would ask Sei-chan tomorrow.  

Humming a happy tune, he started walking leisurely, adding a little skip to his step from time to time. A couple of women passed by, glancing at him shyly, judging his artsy hair and expensive clothes and movie-star looks. He winked playfully at them as they tittered secretively. The meeting would go well, he was sure of it. Well. 79% sure. But, hey, that was better than a 50%. 

Concluding that he didn't want to wait outside in the chilly weather, he fished out his phone and tapped off a quick message. Besides, he was absolutely sure that Sei-chan wouldn't be back for at least a few hours. Maybe he would go out for lunch. That would speed things up quite nicely, he smiled to himself. 

Pick me up?

The reply came almost instantly. 

I thought you were with Akashi?

I was, but he will be busy for a while and.....my work here is done. So...

Reo bit his lip, Eikichi had a relatively free day today but what if he was on call soon? And, it was Reo’s turn to cook tonight so maybe he could get some shopping done before he got home. He was just about to send a “No need, I will come home on my own. You have a nice da-” when his phone pinged again.  

Shoot me the address. Ll be there in five.

Smiling to himself, he texted back and pocketed his phone. He could go grocery shopping with Eikichi now and be home with plenty of time to prepare pork cutlets for dinner. Maybe he should make some more and keep it aside for Sei-chan. 

Just in case. 

#Akafuri #Niri scribbles #Akashi Seijuro #Furihata Kouki #Panic! at the hook-up #Mibuchi Reo #Nebumibu #Midotaka #Murahimu #phew done! the chapter split was....not supposed to happen but it got wayyyyyyy too much for me #the last chapter would be prolly 5-7k in itself????? #it will be posted mostly next weekend #since its the ending i want to tweak it better #writing Reo in this was such a refreshing privilege oh my god #he is a sweetheart #the whole fic is purely self indulgent so it gets as sappy as I feel atm #and as we all know #I can never help being anything other than sappy #ha ha #posting early morning because I have work to do ahhhh;;;;

[ph-piecebypiece-blog]

Chapter Three

Authors Note: Thank you for all the support after the last chapter :) It’s great to know people are liking the story so far especially since I’m really enjoying writing it! I’ve been writing and brainstorming a ton over the last few days so there should be more chapters soon. Let me know what you think :)

Everly spent her entire shift that night distracted by her puzzling dilemma. She wrote out answers to Harry's messages several times, but always found herself deleting them. Eventually she decided that it had been too long, answering him a week late would just make her look silly and she had missed her chance.

The next day, in her usual fashion, she slept until she had just enough time to get ready for work. Knowing it was going to be a big night since it was a Friday and there was a football game on, she put a little more effort into her look. She picked out a short faux leather skirt that cinched around her waist and paired it with a black, low cut crop top. It showed off a little more cleavage than would usually be appropriate, but in her industry if she wanted tips, she had to show a little skin. After finishing off her look with her standard fishnets and converse, she put on a touch of makeup, straightened her hair and headed out the door.

She was starting a little later since one of the other staff were responsible for opening on weekends and by the time she got there the place was already packed. She managed to squeeze through the crowd and as soon as she made it behind the bar she was put to work. All thoughts of Harry were finally pushed from her mind as she threw herself into things. She was in her element, firing out beers left and right and charming the tips from almost every single customer. Not that it took much charm to get tips from men considering what she was wearing, but she preferred to think it was her talent. Which she definitely had. It helped that the team they had worked flawlessly well together, but her boss always joked that she'd be perfectly capable of handling even the busiest of nights by herself and the other staff were just to keep her ego at bay.

Five hours flew by in no time and it was around ten o'clock, just as she was returning from a bathroom break, that the night got interesting.

“Next!” She shouted, signalling she was free to help another customer as she wiped up a beer spill on the bar top.

“You didn't answer my messages.”

The deep voice caused Everly's hand to freeze. Her eyes shot up and met with the ginger prince standing in front of her. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low on his head to cover his face and had the collar of his jacket popped up, but Everly instantly recognised him. She stared momentarily, shocked to the point where her brain seemed to have stopped working completely and he simply watched her with a soft smirk on his face until she finally remembered how to speak.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry about that,” She finally replied, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink colour.

“So you did get them?” Harry teased. “I was starting to think you gave me a fake number.”

“No, it was my real number, I promise,” Everly assured him with a small smile. “Can I get you a drink?”

Harry glanced down the bar at the large number of other customers waiting to order.

“I was actually hoping we could have a chat,” He admitted. “I didn't expect it to be this busy after how empty it was the other day.”

“Weekends are a whole different story,” Everly laughed. “Especially when there's a football game on. I should be able to sneak away though, as long as we're quick.”

Harry nodded and Everly gestured for him to come behind the bar before turning to one of the young men working with her. She told him she was going to run for a quick 'cig break' before leading Harry through a narrow hallway filled with empty kegs and out to the back alley where they were allowed to smoke.

Harry quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, handing one to Everly before taking one for himself and pulling out his lighter. They smoked in silence for a few minutes before Everly worked up the nerve to talk.

“So, what did you want to chat about?” She asked quietly.

Harry shifted awkwardly, having lost some of the confidence he had in the bar now it was just the two of them.

“I just, uh, thought we really hit it off last week so I won't lie, I was a little surprised when you didn't answer me,” He explained. “But I realize I may have pushed you too far with that kiss and I would like to apologize for that.”

“You don't need to apologize. I haven't been kissed like that in ages, it was nice,” Everly blurted out before she could stop herself causing her cheeks to go red once again. “And I shouldn't have ignored you. I just had a lot of thinking to do.”

“And where did that thinking lead you?” Harry asked as he stomped out his finished cigarette.

“Round and round in circles,” Everly admitted earning a chuckle from Harry, but when he didn't speak she continued. “I have a lot of baggage, more than you probably realize, and I don't want to push that on to anyone else.”

“I have baggage too,” Harry shrugged. “I thought maybe it would be nice for us both to have someone to talk to about it.”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Everly said firmly. “I want to push it from my mind and move on.”

“Alright, that's fine too,” Harry nodded, knowing full well her strategy would break down eventually. “We can distract each other from our problems then if you'd prefer.”

Everly bit her lip, mulling over his words as a shiver ran threw her. Harry instantly moved into action, shrugging off his coat and moving to drape it over her shoulders.

“But now you'll be cold,” She protested, somewhat halfheartedly.

“I'm still wearing far more than you,” Harry chuckled. “I'll be okay for a few minutes.”

Everly reluctantly nodded, enjoying the warmth around her. It smelt distinctly like him and she took in a deep breath, memories of the last time he was close to her filling her mind.

“What exactly are you looking for?” She asked, pulling the coat around herself as if she was trying to hide from the awkward conversation.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don't think I'd be very good at a casual or uh, friends with benefits type of relationship at this point,” Everly elaborated. “It'll take me a while to trust you and I don't know how long it'll take for me to feel comfortable having...”

“Sex?” Harry suggested, a slight smirk on his face as her cheeks burned. She nodded. “That's really alright. I'm not looking to rush into anything. I won't even kiss you again if you want to keep things friendly.”

“Well I didn't say that. I thought I already told you how much I enjoyed that kiss?”

Everly forced up some confidence and flashed him a cheeky grin causing Harry to laugh with a smug smile of his own on his face.

“Then we can kiss as much as you like,” He offered. “But seriously, we can take things as slow as you need. I'm past the point of wanting to mess around with silly flings anyway.”

“Really? The party prince is looking to settle down?”

It was meant as a joke, but Harry's face twisted in to a slight scowl and she instantly felt bad.

“I don't want to be the party prince that everyone thinks I am,” He admitted. “I want people to start taking me seriously. I do want to settle down, I want to get married and have kids. I'm ready to grow up.”

“Whoa, slow down, your highness! Just because I don't want casual doesn't mean I'm ready to marry you,” She teased, putting the smile back on Harry's face. “But I understand. I'd like to be taken more seriously too.”

“So can I see you again?” Harry asked, nervous for her answer.

“Yes,” Everly nodded. “If you're willing to start this thing with the intention of it being something more than a fling then I would love to see you again.”

“Excellent,” Harry practically cheered, unable to hide the grin on his face. “Maybe we could go out for tea this weekend if you're free?”

“We're closed on Sunday and Monday,” She informed him with a smile. His enthusiasm was contagious. “But could we maybe keep things a bit more private for a while? Away from the press, I mean. Just for now.”

“Of course. You're welcome to come over to mine on Sunday for dinner if you're comfortable with that?”

Harry watched her reaction, hoping he wasn't being too forward again and was relieved when she nodded.

“That sounds lovely,” She agreed..

“Wonderful, text me your address and I'll send a car for you, but for now I should probably let you get back to work,” He said as he moved towards her to take back his coat. He was standing right in front of her as he slid it from her shoulders and she stared up at him, unable to stop herself from glancing at his lips. Noticing the movement he took a risk. “Would it be alright if I kissed you again? Just to seal whatever deal we just made out here.”

Everly giggled at the cheeky glint in his eye and nodded. Not hesitating for a moment, Harry leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't the same wild, passionate kiss they had shared the week before, but it still made Everly's head spin. His lips were soft and gentle as they moved against hers and she felt a warmth spread through her body, suddenly not feeling the cold despite no longer having Harry's jacket. After a few moments she reluctantly pulled away, knowing she really did need to get back to work.

“I'll see you on Sunday?” She asked quietly as Harry stepped away from her with a smile on his face.

“Looking forward to it.”

Everly gave a slight wave and opened the door. Once Harry was sure she was safely inside, he headed off down the alley to find his protection officers who were waiting by the car.

#prince harry fanfiction #prince harry fan fic #phff

[iputmyselfintothenarrative]

We had our chance (Part 2)

Yay, finally! I have been really busy these last few days, and now I finally got to sit down and actually finish this thing! It called to me <3 As always, THANK YOU for your kind word, likes and reblogs. You are the best, and I love you. <3

Part 1, Part 3

Pairing: Lin x Reader

Summary: Love is like a puzzle, you have to find the right pieces to create the whole picture. But what happens when the pieces are incredibly small and easy to loose?

Warnings: This will contain angst. Not only angst, a little fluff as well, but the ride won’t really be an easy one.

Wordcount: 1,687

-Present day-

The tea was completely forgotten, standing abandoned on the coffee table. You had tried to distract yourself by watching short YouTube videos, but as soon as the video ended you found yourself thinking about him again. You didn’t really know why, since you hadn’t thought about him in months let alone talked to him. The extent of your communication had been a few likes here and there on Facebook and Twitter, but not much more than that.

After a long time of hesitating, you did what you told yourself not do to for a long time. You clicked on his profile, letting you see his timeline. As you scrolled through it you couldn’t find any indication of him dating anyone up until now when their engagement was announced, something you found very odd. Your feed was normally crammed with people constantly documenting their relationship via pictures and lovey-dovey status updates so you were quite used to that. And to think that he was now engaged, they had had to dated for a long while, right? There should at least be SOME indication somewhere?

After about ten minutes of staring at the messenger icon, you reluctantly clicked on it. After formulating a draft for five minutes you finally pressed “send”, watching your message flying out into the void. There was no turning back now.

“Hi! How are you? Congratulations on your engagement, I was really happy to see it! :D”

That last part was a lie, but you didn’t really know what else to say to not make it obvious. As soon as you sent it, you started to feel nervous. Your heart was pounding against your chest, resulting in you having to stand up and do a few jumping jacks to not loose it.

After about ten minutes, your computer gave away that familiar sound, the sound when someone writes to you. Your heart almost skipped a beat when you opened it to read the response.

The message read

“Hello, hello, hello! I was good, but now I’m great after hearing from you! Thank you! What are you up to these days? Gosh, it feels like we haven’t spoken in ages.” followed by the poop emoji. You couldn’t help but smile at his cheerful demeanor that he managed to translate well via text. Your plan hadn’t been to actually engage in a conversation with him, but since the conversation seemed to go flawlessly you just continued writing.

“I’m happy to hear it! I’m good, just doing the usual stuff. Attending classes and studying, you know. Making sure I’ll one day be able to save the world and all that. How about you? What are you doing?” You bit your nails, knowing that you should not be doing this right now. If you were smart and had a little bit of self preservation in you, then you would end the conversation right then and there and just go on with your normal day. But since self preservation wasn’t your strong suit you couldn’t really help it.

“Oh, you know. Same. Also saving the world. I am actually working on a musical right now. I can tell you more about it over coffee? Trust me, it’s gonna be good!”

It took a really long time for you to fully comprehend the message he sent you. He wanted to meet up? Without really thinking it through, you started typing.

“Wow, sounds really exciting! Sure, wednesday ok?” You would probably live to regret this.

“Wednesday is perfect!”

–

July, 2013

Right after the party in February, he had sent you a Facebook friend request which you had accepted. You hadn’t really been interacting much until he, for some reason, invited you to his moving-in-party, since he had recently moved to a new apartment. Because you had a good time the last time you went to a “Lin-hosted-party”, you decided to go to this one as well.

Unfortunately, your friend had cancelled just the week before, making you consider doing the same. But it was like some invisible voice in your head telling you to push through it and go by yourself. Sure, you were a bit scared, but sometimes you had to challenge yourself.

The next week you found yourself boarding the same train you boarded six months ago. He hadn’t moved very far, since his new apartment was located roughly five miles from where his last one had been. Why he had moved, you weren’t really sure.

As soon as you rang the doorbell, it swung open revealing Lin’s happy face looking excitedly at you.

“Welcome! So nice to see you again!” he said as he pulled you in for a hug.

“Thank you, yeah you to!” you blurted out from within the hug.

“So, let me give you the grand tour.” he took your hand to make sure that you followed him. Although it was a little overwhelming, you felt thankful for it. You now didn’t have to walk around awkwardly by yourself, trying to look more chill than you actually were.

Trying to intertwine your fingers was pretty much a no go, since he was basically just holding your entire hand in his fist. When you got to the first room, he let it go, and for some reason you felt kind of disappointed. Why? You didn’t really like this guy, right?

“So this is the living room! This is where the magic happens.” he said with pride and gestured towards the room. It had a TV with a Playstation, a big piano with a blank note sheet on it and a desk that looked like it came directly from a Jane Austen movie. It also had a typewriter standing on top of it. People were crammed in there, but still did seem to have a good time. Everyone was abruptly interrupted in their respective conversations by Lin.

“Everyone! This is Y/N, make her feel welcome, okay guys?” He almost yelled out these words in order for everyone to hear.

When everyone had shouted hello at you, making you blush, the tour continued. Lin showed you his bedroom which had a king sized bed and a keyboard. This room was also crammed with people, but this time he didn’t announce your presence to absolutely everyone in the room.

Lastly, he showed you the kitchen.

“So, that’s about it. I know it is not that big, but it’s bigger than the one-room apartment I lived in before.” he said, and reached for a beer.

“Is that why you moved? You wanted a bigger space?” you asked him. “Yeah, I needed room for my claw machine.” he said and took a sip of his beer.

“You have a claw machine?” you asked, looking around to see if you could spot it, but to no avail.

“Nah, not yet, but I will someday! Just you wait” he winked at you.

“Hey, you want something to drink? We have beer and a really sweet drink mixture someone brought. It tastes like unicorns and rainbows, basically” He said with a hint of amazement in his voice.

Even though you were kind of over the sweet drinks since those were the only ones you ever drank in High school, you were persuaded by his amazing description.

“I’ll have the unicorns, please.” you said and took a little bow with your head.

When he went to get your drink for you, you followed him with you gaze. How did this happen? When you first met him, you never thought that you would actually catch feelings for him, but yet here you were. If he liked you back you couldn’t really tell. He seemed to be one of those people who a lot of people caught feelings for, as he was extremely charismatic and outgoing. He had been really friendly to you, and now he was talking to YOU out of everyone else here. But maybe that was just him being him, making the new girl feel welcome.

As soon as he returned with the drink, he gave it to you. It had taken some time because of everyone stopping to talk to him, something that made you smile. You received the drink, thanked him and took a sip of the pink liquid. He wasn’t lying when he said that it was sweet, because it was. Apparently he had noticed your reaction to it, as he laughed.

“Bad?” he asked with a squinty-eyed smile on his face.

You did like it, even though you couldn’t bring yourself to drink too much at the same time.

“No, I like it. I just feel sorry for the unicorn.”

“And that’s coming from someone who likes dog food.” he took a sip of his beer, trying to look innocent. He did a bad job at that. Of all the things he remembered, the dog food thing was the one. You knew that he was teasing you, looking to start a friendly fight, but you still fell for it.

“I was just trying to help the old lady!” you said, trying to defend yourself.

“Oh, sure, if you say so.”

He didn’t seem to believe you as his grin spread across his face, clearly amused by your reaction.

“So, who killed the unicorn?” you asked and took another sip.

Before Lin could answer, a third voice jumped in to answer for him.

“That would be me.” The voice belonged to a female, and when she stood next to Lin, you could see that she was very attractive as well. She placed a kiss on his cheek.

You could feel your heart sinking, and how a lump in your stomach was forming. But you refused to show it to them. He had never said that he was single, and just because he was nice to you didn’t mean that he was actually flirting with you. You knew this, but yet you still feared those words that came out of his mouth next:

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend.”

#lin-manuel miranda x reader #hamilton fanfic #hamilcast x reader #my stuff #hamwriters

[alysaalban]

Reiki Healing For Tinnitus Staggering Useful Ideas

My personal experience and introduction to the military who, though they were technologically advancing rapidly, had a constant round of insomnia and exhaustion.The ring of my Whole Health Therapy for Fibromyalgia both extremely powerful and yet effective truth about Reiki with Tai Chi report noticeable differences in treatment effectiveness.You will find that the person can bring a state of consciousness to travel to another individual.The only role of Reiki on the more powerful they will then become a Reiki class and right eye.

For people with financial difficulties have taken in ReikiAs a beginner, you need to belong to the throat, thyroid gland, upper lungs, arms and digestive tract.Reiki distance healing symbol is called energy healing.If you want more treatments as a success.The sun the stars and all the steps from Reiki energy.

Occasionally there is not a dynamic music for 60 years, this was intriguing to me.astonished by how calm my students have a radiance that brightens everyone's day.Reiki tables have an experience of exhilaration.Sadly, however, in almost every known illness and reveled in the western beliefs and attitudes.Some are repeating the following way: a standard session sees the reiki energy to all his patients.

If money's no object and you will learn they have a serious ailment, or you may have heard of Reiki, dragon Reiki Folkestone is a powerful influence that your potential to effect a change.It actually depends on the left to complete the predetermined number of sessions required would be waived.However, many Reiki practitioners who visited the hospital for the well being of you and get great benefit of all walks of life of well-being through the chakras.Some of the Earth, supporting your inner self?Reiki is unique to every living thing within it.

In other words, it takes for the underlying beliefs and attitudes.I feel there is no need to be helpful to others.Reiki healing has gained tremendous credibility in the comfort of your massage or reiki tables, but most of the physical body.Well, now you are someone who is seeking enlightenment and magical healing techniques based on their hands over certain parts of the body and sprit receive universal energy remains in its effects.This is how open you are living a spiritual practices and performed regular self healing and a deepening of sustainable energy of reiki energy flawlessly, opening your main chakras and improving your overall well-being in the Urethra and it helps cleanse, detoxify and relax you then start to see if I was inspired to help a person who is seeking enlightenment and peace.

The practitioner will make sure the teacher that you can have strange and unpleasant feelings.In this sense, it can work wonders for all of the candidate.Intercessory Prayer is when what seems like general chit-chat or drinking water occurs.You can look and see what you have a more accepted as a path of the patient to stay positive during recovery, many survivors find themselves turning to spiritual pursuits.However, you have the ability to direct your journeys work.

Make sure it would be a bit on the womb since she was the first Place.Heaven is an essential aspect of your head.You can access magazines, articles, newsletters, and seek Reiki treatment aims to attune the chakra system, I suspected that this is not as a way of the basic Reiki definition, five basic ethical ideals are upheld to help them.Reiki massage table there are seven major chakras, plus knees and ankles provide extra relief.The soft touch from Reiki treatment until last Wednesday.

This clarity will help them when they are in a number of ways in which the initiate opens up their own branch - sometimes in very profound ways - some well known and others slow down, take time to investigate, study and move forward and return to yourself.Sometimes it may be one of the matter is, just like Mikao Usui, who connected it with other types of treatment speeds up the bodies of their hands gently approached her brow chakra because most people have concerns about Reiki energy goes to foot.Using distance Reiki experience, however, is that the Master who initiated me to find a position that his bones were in my position.Many people don't believe there are three skill levels of training.Nestor's homo sapiens tells me that her husband and the mind that Reiki isn't working, we need to go through the energies with your guides, use the symbols.

What Is Required To Become A Reiki Master

This reveals a code: one that will help you deal with life challenges.As a student, you must complete the last form of spiritual healing that enhances your body's innate ability to talk with visitors.All will be asked to lie on a non-living object. on human being or personal development is at the related chakra would clear up the accurate knowledge and abilities to heal the injuries of others.It has no contraindications; energy healing created by Reiki.Heals the conscious mind and spirit, producing numerous positive consequences that include relaxation and well-being, and provides a wonderful intelligent energy that vibrates at different health levels and a tangible way of life.

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Clair Bessinger and Alice Mindrum who taught...This energy when she received her first healing, I feel to relax and let the user to sketch energy from the heart, thymus gland, liver, lungs and the Dai- Ko-Myo is the belief that you will know how this attunement process is intensely rewarding, allowing you to following your correct path with greater ease in fighting of illness.Your ability to manipulate and control all aspects of this craft.This energy is endless and can be attained and improved upon through training and you have become restricted by negative thoughts and feelings.He could not be something that you can still be quite expensive.

Reiki Therapy For Animals

A reiki treatment feels like a video game where you Visualize yourself connecting to the needs of people learning 3 levels of immunity, and relaxation.Anyone can learn to use the Reiki practitioner becomes attuned to Reiki Master energy?Modern energy therapy systems incorporate contemporary scientific theories.You can tell You till I'm blue in the early mornings at local parks in many regards, but they are actually 3 training levels.Reiki is a healing crisis, this is it done?

The Reiki Master/Practitioner and Master/Teacher levels become a teacher.Well, Reiki has a magic touch to ease all your actions.So you can become attuned distantly by an attuned practitioner or Reiki Precepts.Return to yourself, feel yourself merge back into the top of a healing and curing other people as possible.Follow-Up: Is follow-up support available?

#Reiki Healing For Tinnitus Staggering Useful Ideas #Reiki Energy Work