#i will crack my ass down on drafts since over half are aLREADY ALMOST FINISHED

[kobblefort]

Rushsly: Almost The Bottom

SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME CONTENT UNDER THE CUT.

Two miners into the depths: Zhasrca Foldcounselled and Nucra Framegarnishes.

Doors shut firmly behind them. I can't think of a worse omen than Nucra fondly remembering a conversation with his wife.

Up on the surface, a single thief is spotted approaching the fortress. Why now?

Cire Osokcat is caught by them as he heads out to dump some trash, but they breeze right past him... and he decides right then "I'm going to go fishing." Right after the drawbridge lever was pulled. I draft him into the military just so that I can specifically force him to move off the bridge in the vain hopes that he isn't caught in the mechanisms and lost.

He ignores the order, but fortunately runs off the bridge to chase one of the ratfolk down. Like an idiot trying to beat a train through a crossing so he can get to Joe's Crab Shack but ironically being saved by having some kind of road rage incident. Did you have to do this now, Cire!?!?!? The bridge is up, the ratfolk who made it in are targeted, and the one outside the base will hopefully walk right into our traps any second now.

The miners are literally still at work down at -116, cracking through gold vein after gold vein. The earth truly does run rich down here. Maybe this will all turn out completely fine. Maybe Rushsly will be the most grossly wealthy fort of all kobblekind.

Due to the fact that no scouts ever survived to come back and tell the ratfolk "hey don't go into the big-ass animal den," one of the thieves walks straight into the animal den.

It takes Ace Steel just a single swing to split one of the ratfolk's heads open.

His compatriot can only give a few seconds more of chase before being literally chopped in half by the swordmaster Shycla Zhizorsa.

The one who ran into the den is torn apart by the dogs before finally being finished off by a giant rattlesnake. The drawbridge is lowered once more so that the military might set upon the final thief.

Though he tries to run home, possibly to give the advice of "we really need to stop fucking with Rushsly," Ace Steel is faster, angrier, deadlier. Chopping off his arm, smashing his nose, knocking out his teeth, before one stab in the leg from Sheslas Spurnspread's dagger leads him to just plain run out of blood. And just like that, it's time to clean up. A waste of time, but an amusing one. The poor bastards, our constant enemies, fated to never even know what's below the surface of our fort. They have no idea of what we're on the precipice of, they wouldn't understand if they did. In another world, I feel bad for them, have sympathy for their plight, maybe even like them; in this one, I just want them out of our way. Adamantite will be ours.

But god damnit, the bastards are so fucking persistent!! Taking no heed of their scouts' inevitable demise, after however many fucking raids they've already sent and failed, they spring another ambush upon us.

Susle, a potash maker (which is a job that actually matters in my fort for the first time since I started playing the game) is shot twice, once in the rib and once in the knee, but almost manages to evade his pursuer...

until he decides not to run straight in through the trapped entrance, and instead try to flee out into the woods.

By the time the kobbles start actually taking heed of the civilian alert, more of them are wounded. Ilzi Dwelltube, a clothier who must have been one of our newest arrivals, similarly just tried to run around between the trees instead of getting to safety just a few tiles away, and takes eight fucking bolts for his trouble before making it past where the ratfolk can pursue him.

Susle tries to crawl to safety, fighting so hard, harder than any kobble ever should, but...

It's no use. Susle does not live to see adamantite, and the ratfolk who took it from him just saunter around outside all self-satisfied over finally getting a single win over the kobbles. One of them wanders off, three more just kind of loiter.

We get our first beast from the third cavern layer, but it's not like it can get in, nobody even goes near the fortifications that peer into the third cavern, who gives a shit. Well, the least we can do is put down the three fucking rat bastards that remain before they can dare to get home to their shit-encrusted little hole in the ground and brag, and so our own militia are sent out through the long trap tunnel to put them down.

Arm cut open, head cut off.

The crossbow bolts that are not outright parried are still effortlessly blocked, bouncing hopelessly off the kobbles' heavy steel armor. Another head lopped off. Go for a hat trick?

Three heads. Yeah motherfucker. Hat trick. We'll do one big patrol of the entire map before sounding the all-clear and letting Susle be buried.

After a quick sweep, there's no more rats in sight. The corpses will just be left out there in hopes of being understood as a warning: see how far their heads landed from their bodies? That could be you. But it hurts to see Susle go, and on the subject of hurting...

Six scars now mark the poor clothier. He's fixed up well enough, but it's doubtless he'll be able to walk without a crutch again.

Cire, the doctor who is still erroneously listed as "guard captain," fares a bit better, though there's never anything good about a skull fracture, just things that could be worse about a skull fracture. He prays to Tulrac Dungsgalls, the god of death, disease, and deformity. Hey I like some triple D's myself you know what I mean heh heh ohhh yeaaah sorry. Just trying to add some levity to the situation I guess. One has to wonder if it is Tulrac's influence that will win over this fortress, or Dasël's - the god of rain and rainbows. I fear we are headed for death, though it would be nice if we didn't.

Before you ask, I didn't leave the miners trapped in the shaft this whole time - right as the ambush kicked off, I let them out to hang back and sit on standby with some drinks and snacks. They say you should basically never fight a war on two fronts - I don't know who says that, maybe nobody actually says that because it's obvious, and it's actually just the sort of wisdom you get clued in on by absorbing all sorts of other wisdom and hearing all sorts of other things, I don't know. Because sometimes someone will be like "They say blah blah blah" but then nobody actually says blah blah blah, it's not like a quote from someone, it's literally just them putting "common sense" into words. And on that note I've always thought "common sense" was bullshit. "Common sense" just means you made an assumption that ended up being proven right, and people who talk a lot about how "nobody has anyone common sense" tend to actually just be making a bunch of assumptions and putting themselves into a feedback loop of thinking well my assumptions were right before so they're obviously going to be right this time too. And I mean it's not actually hard to see how people get like that anymore, because nowadays media and journalism and all that shit is more about validation than verification. And that goes for everyone on every part of the political spectrum, I probably get my brain blasted just as bad being a Mao-appreciating-but-otherwise-agnostic anarcho-communist as like, your average small-business-tyrant Fox News conservative does. There's hardly ever any real investigations, that shit doesn't make money and nobody wants to fucking hear it when you tell them that thing they thought was wrong, they just don't, nobody in the entire world likes that besides the very small percentage of people so deeply committed to science or competition or whatever else that they can literally just shove their ego out of the way, that's only like 3% of people and they're busy winning fucking Super Smash Bros. Melee tournaments or fucking around with electron microscopes. Another good way to blast your fucking ego out of here is with psychedelic drugs like acid or mushrooms but as a big fan of both I gotta say doing acid makes it very hard to write. Anyway

Finally lifting Susle's lifeless body from the shade of a great citron tree, Ty Lovelyseduce finally carries him to his final resting place in a green glass coffin, just like the other kobbles we've lost. He will never see what comes next to Rushsly, whether riches or ruin, put suddenly to his final sleep just days before the world would change. But her thoughts as she lays him down are not of dread, fear, or pain. They're of optimism.

Adamantite is the perfect material: it can make near anything, from armor to clothes, from weapons to coins, light enough to dance in yet strong enough to protect - if the rumors are true, at least. And the promised days must be close, now, they have to be. Golden days of wealth and fame, where kobbles can live without fear of bolt or blade.

The earth must surely relent soon.

#dwarf fortress #kobblefort #df spoilers

[miekasa]

bad romance

+ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

+ genres and warnings: friends with benefits au, friends to lovers au (well i guess that’s open for interpretation lmao), modern au—college au?, explicit smut, mentioned/implied virginity

+ summary: friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school is probably a bad idea. friends with benefits with your best friend since middle school who you’ve also been in love with for the past seven years—all for the purpose of her gaining ‘experience’ so she’s not nervous to do it with some other guy she has a crush on—is probably a really bad idea. levi ackerman is not known to make great decisions.

+ word count: 3.5k

+ notes: truth be told, i don’t even know if i like this; i took this from an outline/draft of a series i’d planned but know i’ll never complete. it’s kind of unedited too heh, also if you’re a minor pls do not interact 

Levi doesn’t think anything of it when he finds you on his doorstep on a rainy Saturday evening. It’s very much like you to show up unannounced and attempt to drag him into whatever activity you want to do that day. He’s fairly certain that Hange picked that up from you. Someone should tell her that it doesn’t work so well unless it’s you tugging on his arm sleeve and interrupting his otherwise peaceful evening. 

So, for a while, everything is normal. You make fun of him for his use of, admittedly overpriced, organic butter when he toasts you a bagel; he makes jabs at you shuffling around his apartment like a semi-wet chihuahua, and all is right with the world.

Until it’s not. Because half-way into whatever stand-up comedy Netflix special you’d persuaded him into watching with you, Levi’s had enough of your nervous ticking. He doesn’t know if you think that he wouldn’t notice, but he does. And he knows it’s not the result of you still being wet or cold from the rain, seeing as you’ve long since dried off and warmed up. 

You’re focused on the show (ironically, focused to a point of distraction), you’ve been twiddling your fingers since it started, and you’ve been fidgety since you stepped foot into his house. Quite frankly, he finds it insulting that you think he wouldn’t know something’s up by now.

So, he bends his knee, turns his body towards yours, lifts his elbow to rest atop the edge of the soft, and presses his cheek into his palm: “Alright, spit it out.”

“Huh?—What do you mean?” You look at him with wide, startled eyes. He looks back at you with unamused, expecting ones.

You crack a nervous smile, attempting to laugh off his command as incredulous, but instead, your voice comes out in what sounds like a pathetic attempt to cover up a lie—probably because it is, “What? Can’t I spend sometime with my favorite, surly psychology student?”

Levi scoffs at your batting eyelashes. The look he throws you seems to do the trick as you drop your facade with a sigh and shift yourself to face him on the couch too, your bent knees almost touching.

“Alright, fine, you got me,” you sigh, hands resting in your lap, “You, um... you know how you said you’d help me with, like, uh... sex and stuff?”

Levi raises an eyebrow. Of course he does. He watches as your eyes dart around the room waiting for his response. It’s cute as heck, and if the topic of conversation at hand weren’t about to get so compromising, he’d have probably teased you about it.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well… okay, so, you remember Jean, right? The guy I told you about?”

Levi hums. Yeah, he remembers Jean, but only because you can’t seem to shutup about him, not because he’s particularly memorable otherwise. He seems to be kind of a prick and a huge idiot, if you asked Levi; but, that’s kind of his default impression of most people. 

“Jean and I hung out yesterday, and it was normal, you know? We just talked and ordered food and watched a movie,” you rub your palms along the fabric of your yoga pants—another nervous tick he’s been observing, “I don’t know if it was a date or not, because he didn’t say it was, and I don’t want to assume, but Marco keeps saying it was, and that Jean wants to actually ask me out.”

Levi blinks. “And?”

“And if he does ask me out—or even if he just… I don’t know, wants to try something the next time we hang out, I don’t want to look like a complete idiot!”

He refrains from letting a noticeable grimace take over his features; and washes away the unsettling feeling in his stomach with a nonchalant comment, “I doubt he’ll try anything on your first date.”

“But what if it’s not a date! People hang out just to hook up all the time.”

“I thought you wanted to date him?” Levi questions, but his it comes out as more of a deadpan statement.

“I do,” you answer, your response a little delayed and drawn out, “But, I wouldn’t mind just sleeping with him, either.”

“Bold statement from someone who’s never slept with anyone before.”

“Have I told you today that you’re an asshole?” you roll your eyes at him, “Come on, Levi, you know what it’s like to just want someone, but not want them, don’t you? You’ve had one night stands before.”

That’s true, Levi knows it, but it’s different. He wasn’t actively seeking advice from his friends about how to pursue and potentially please his one night stands because none of that mattered—well, the pleasing part, probably, but not the pursuit, or the feelings that came with it. Besides, Levi hasn’t felt the desire for any of that in a long time.

“That’s not the same,” he responds, trying to dismiss the muddy feelings crawling up his throat, “Look, if your Jean guy gets horny when you’re hanging out, just make out with him—make him jizz his pants or something.”

“That’s terrible advice,” you frown, “Plus, he’s probably done that with a million other girls.”

“Probably. Sex tends to repeat a few basic actions here and there.”

“For a psychology student, you sure are a terrible makeshift therapist, do you know that?”

“That’s not even the kind of psychology I study, never mind that I never asked to be your therapist.”

Levi takes great amusement in your huffing and the frustrated pout settling into your features, though he does his best to not let his own smile shine through. It’s probably futile; you can probably see through his facade, anyways.

“I just don’t want to bore him, Levi.”

Any trace of his smile vanishes as those words leave your mouth. Levi doesn’t retain much about this Jean guy you keep going on about, and he doesn’t care to in all honesty—but maybe if he did, he could understand why you’re so hellbent on pleasing the kid.

Levi doesn’t like it, not one single bit. His own feelings for you aside, he doesn’t like how Jean has managed to worm his way into your head and make you think that he’s deserving of any kind of affection from you, whether it be platonic, romantic, or sexual. Because he isn’t; Levi might not know him, but he knows that much. 

Still, he sympathizes with you. He understands the pressure of navigating dating and hookup culture, especially in a university setting; never mind the additional expectations set on you as a girl. It’s shitty, all of it; the stupid feelings, the sense of uncertainty, the dumb-ass college pricks. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. 

“You won’t,” is Levi’s simpler response, “Just don’t crush his dick in the process.”

“I wouldn’t do that, fuck you.”

“I’m just saying, you’ve never been the most coordinated person in the world,” he taunts, “If that’s what you came here today to ask me to help you with, it’s fine.”

“Really?—I mean, okay, I know we said that’s okay, and stuff, but I didn’t know if—well I don’t know what’s on the table or not? I do want to do that with you, but I also wanted to know if we could do… more? But I didn’t want to ask for too much and make you uncomfortable! Do we need a lesson-plan of sorts, because I can make—”

“You’re doing it.”

“Doing what?”

“Stalling,” Levi tells you, “You know, how when you get all nervous and ramble, then run out of breath or things to say, then get super quiet, and let the conversation die and be awkward again.”

You throw daggers his way with your eyes, and Levi has the audacity to smirk. “Forgive me, it’s not every day I ask my best friend if I can suck his dick for practice.”

“You can,” Levi replies, a little too nonchalant for the situation at hand, “If you want. I don’t mind. As for a lesson plan, that’s weird as shit, so don’t do that.”

“Really? I can?” you question again, an ironic child-like glimmer of joy in your eyes.

Levi chuckles lowly at your enthusiasm—your appreciation is so genuine, he finds it nothing short of adorable. And oddly enough, he’s a little turned on by it, too.

“Yeah,” he nods his head shallowly, “You can.”

You still have that gleam in your eyes, but Levi can feel the hesitation creeping up on you, and offers his guidance before he loses you to a shell of yourself. He shifts over to you just a bit, loosely holding your right wrist in his grip; holding eye-contact, he carefully pulls you up to stand in front of him.

“You can start,” he says, slowly tugging on your wrist, “By getting on your knees and taking off my pants.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you’re already kneeling in front of him, and the sight is already enough to have Levi semi-hard in his pants; an almost embarrassed flush washing over his body as he comes to terms with the fact that he’s thought about this visual more times than he cares to ever admit.

You fumble with the zipper of his jeans, pulling them, along with his boxers to pool around his ankles. Your actions are careful and calculated, but you seem comfortable—maybe not with your skills, but with Levi.

His eyes stay glued on you, when you finally hold his length with a single hand, the other resting hot on his thigh. He leans over again, this time to rest a comforting hand on the back of your neck, eager to wash away any remains of your nervous resolve.

“Start slow,” he instructs, feeling your thumb swipe along the head, “Just move your hand up and down a bit, like—ah, yeah, like that.”

You seem follow his words carefully, focusing on the way his dick jerks in your hand. Levi observes you carefully and mentally notes that while he’d have liked it, not making out with you before this was probably the right call—he’d probably have creamed his jeans before this could have begun.

“You can grip it harder,” he tells you. You listen, applying slightly more pressure to your grasp; and it makes Levi groan, short, but strangled, above you.

“Okay?” you question, the genuine concern in your voice enough to make Levi’s gaze soften.

“Yeah, that’s—you’re doing good,” he says, rubbing his thumb against the nape of your neck habitually, “Twist your hand a little when you go up, you can—fuck, okay, yeah, that, like that.”

You snap your head up to look at him when he lets a moan slip through; nothing but pure enthusiasm and satisfaction dancing in your eyes. Levi grits his teeth when you do it again, your thumb sliding over the tip when you reach the top of his dick, and, Christ, you’ve got to stop looking at him like that.

You work your way into a steady rhythm, letting Levi’s moans guide your movements. You feel him harden to full length under your touch; and when he does, you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist around the length and squeezing just a pinch harder at the tip, without instruction.

He watches through lidded eyes, using his thumb to press lightly into the back of your neck. You move your free hand from his thighs, eager to add it to the mix, but Levi freezes.

“Nuh uh,” he shakes his head.

It prompts you to stop your actions, tilt your head and look up at him, and Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so sinful. Your complete focus on him, neck craned obediently, eyes twinkling under your lashes; your position makes him want to kiss you or choke you or something in between.

“What—did I do something wrong?” you ask with wide and innocent eyes that make Levi feel bad for worrying you, yet send an erotic pulse throughout his body.

“Not at all,” he reassures you, fingers treading into the hair at your nape.

He’s setting himself up for failure, and he knows it, too—because, really, who agrees to teach a friend how to suck dick? Having you on your knees in front him, crane into his touch, and keen to all his desires, does nothing to mask the painful fire in the pit of his stomach.

It’s stupid to be this hungry, this possessive over you when he knows you come to him in hopes to learning how to please another man. But one, precious thought is enough to cloud over all of that, enough to put that sadistic smirk back on his face.

“You said you wanted to give me a blowjob, right?” he questions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at the shallow nod of your head, “Okay. Open your mouth for me, yeah?”

He barely pushes the tip past your lips when your head dips forward, tongue peeking out to lick the very top. Levi sucks in sharp air between his teeth, relaxing into the couch when your head bobs further, enclosing the tip of his dick in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice hoarse when his hardened cock rests against the velvet wet of your tongue, “That’s it—just keep going, like that.”

He watches intensely as your head bobs onto him. It’s hot and wet and so much more than he’d imagined it would be; and he’s not too shy to admit he’s imagined this with you. He moves his hand to brush away the flyaways of your hair, smoothing them back and tangling his fingers at the back of your head. He carefully guides your movements.

It’s slow and steady, and normally, it’d take him a while to cum like this, but with the visual of having you on your knees for him, Levi can feel a faint warmth of his orgasm already beginning to bubble inside of him.

“This is okay, right?” you pull back, a thin line of spit trailing from your mouth.

“Yes, yes,” he answers immediately, unaware of his tightening grasp on your hair.

With a shy smile, you continue, taking more of him this time and carefully gauging his reactions. You move your head further down, testing your own limits, until you feel like you’re choking. You pull back again, with an embarrassed cough.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into your neck with his fingers, “Guys can’t actually tell the difference between a regular blowjob and being deep throated, no need to choke yourself.”

“Wait, really?” you ask, resting you bum against your heels.

“You seem so surprised.”

“That’s just so… disappointing,” you crinkle your nose, “Men and porn make deep-throating seem like the end all be all of giving head.”

Levi chuckles in genuine amusement, “Well, it’s not, trust me. If any guy insists on being deep-throated just to cum, he’s a fucking liar. He’s getting off on the submission, not the actual feeling.”

“The submission?”

“Getting someone to be willing to listen to them, telling them what to do, how to please them,” he shrugs, “Makes you feel like you’re in control.”

“And that… that works?”

“Yeah,” Levi says, “But, judging by the tone of your voice, and how willing you were to suck my dick three seconds ago, I’d say the idea of being dominant doesn’t really appeal to you.”

You scrunch your nose again, “Does it appeal to you?”

Levi pauses, thinking over his answer, before giving you a simple, “Yeah. Most of the time.”

“Oh,” you hum, “I… I don’t think I’d like that.  I think I’d rather be told what to do, seeing as I don’t really know what I’m doing, anyways.”

“Ironic, considering you’ve never once listened anything I tell you do.”

“I was listening when you told me how to suck your dick,” you correct him, “You seemed to enjoy that.”

Levi pauses with a raised eyebrow. You don’t seem to back down, that matter-of-fact smirk on your face still mocking him. He leans over slowly, using his right hand to guide your head closer to him, and uses his left hand to grab your jaw between his fingers.

“You can be such a fucking brat, you know that,” he all but whispers, pursing your lips together in his hold, “Since you like listening to me so much, then shut up, and we can finish what you started.”

You blink, staring at him with a wide-eyed expression. He’s right that under any other circumstance you’d probably run your mouth off about him telling you what to do. But something about the way he knows what he wants and tells how he wants it makes you listen without an argument.

You nod, slowly wrapping your lips around the tip again, and bobbing along his length. Levi’s breath hitches when you hollow your cheeks slightly, a rough hand pressing down on the back of your neck.

“You’re really—god, okay, you’re good at this, you know,” Levi praises you, letting his right hand resume its position at the back of your neck.

If you had any doubts before about being submissive, the look on Levi’s face seemed to have wiped them away. Watching him throw his head back, his fingers gripping at your nape, his cock in your mouth—pleasing him seemed to be enough to please you, too.

“I wanna make you cum, Levi,” you voice your thoughts, letting a hand lazily jerk him off in the mean time, “Tell me what I have to do to make you cum.”

“If you keep going, I’ll cum,” he answers too quickly, a groan slipping through his words, “Trust me.”

“Come on, Levi,” you push, rolling your thumb over the slit of his dick. It makes him inhale sharply; you’re getting a little too good at that; at all of this. “Can—I mean, do you wanna cum in my mouth?”

“Shit, shit. Don’t say shit like that,” he curses, blunt nails raking and scraping at your scalp, “You don’t have to—I can just—”

“I want you to,” you tell him earnestly, “Please?”

Fuck, he was pretty fucking certain he’d told you to stop saying shit like that. Levi bites the inside of his cheek, paces himself; uses both of his hands to hold your head gently, while you use yours to wrap around his cock.

He grunts with a shake, and rolls his hips up, pushing himself further into your mouth, but not so much as to hurt you. It’s soon after that hot strophes of cum wet your tongue, and Levi lets you lazily jerk him off until you’ve milked his orgasm.

The room is silent save for his low moans and the squeaking of his thighs against the leather couch. When he’s finished, he slouches back, looking at you through hooded eyes, sweaty and panting, when you close your mouth and swallow.

You use your fingers to collect any remaining cum from his softening cock, and hum contented as you put your fingers in your mouth. Levi locks eyes with you again, cheeks flushed as you pull your digits out of your mouth, and he has to grip at his own thigh to gain the self-control to not get hard again.

You’re going to be the fucking death of him some day.

He shakes his head when you move backwards with a cute smile and pulls his boxers up, then his pants as best his can, not bothering to zip them up. When he’s done, you stand to your feet then straddle him on the couch, laughing lowly at his post-orgasm haze.

He doesn’t think twice about the way your hands clasp at the back of his neck, or the way his find their way to rest on your hips. You grab ahold of his jaw with both hands, holding his face in place. He thinks you’re going to lean in, but you don’t; just stay like that, your eyes roaming his glassy eyes.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just stare at me all day?” he questions, lips pulled into a knowing grin.

“Can I?” your question makes him frown in confusion, “Dunno, I heard some guys don’t like that after getting head.”

“Bunch a fuckin pussies,” he grumbles, leaning forward to close the gap between your mouths. He can feel you smile into it, and mimics your grin when you begin to press short, repeated kisses against his lips.

“You’re the best, you know that?”

He laughs when you continue to press quick kisses on his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You kiss him on the cheek, wet and dramatic. “Love you, Levi.”

Your face is right in front of his, but he averts his gaze, a different kind go warmth spreading throughout his chest when you flash a smile at him. He lets you kiss him again, longer this time, but still slow and sweet. He likes the feeling of you resting against him, affection lingering on your tongue when you kiss him.

It’s dangerous, but he likes the way you spark a fire in him. Sweet or sinful, it makes him feel boneless, wanted, loved.

Levi leans forward, rubbing his hands up your sides, and captures your lips in another languid kiss before pulling away to peck the corner of your mouth. “Love you, too.”

And he means it of course, but if Levi thought he had it bad before, he’s in deep shit now.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fluff #eren x reader

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Irresistibly Yours

Chapter 1 - The Elevator

Summary - Y/N Y/L/N moves to NYC in hopes for a fresh start after a nasty breakup. There she meets her neighbor, the cynical lawyer, Dean Winchester. A love-hate relationship starts evolving between them ever since they met in the elevator one morning but a desperate situation and a string of lies forces the two friendly rivals to go on a date or rather a fake date. Will sparks fly between them when Dean gets to know Y/N real and up close? Will Y/N finally find her Prince Charming in the grumpy, workaholic, divorce lawyer?

Pairing - Lawyer!Dean Winchester x Y/N

Warning - None for this chapter

Word Count - 1981

Square Filled - Moodboard ( @girl-next-door-writes )

A/N - *Cracks knuckles* Ta-daaaa! The series is finally here it's already Sunday where I live and I was dying to share this! It's going to be a wild ride ahead. So buckle up your seatbelts and enjoy the ride!

This is also my submission to @flamencodiva's Writing Challenge and @deanwanddamons' 2K Blogiversary challenge (congratulations on your milestone, Sian). Prompts are in bold.

Beta'd by @miss-nerd95 (Thanks again, hon❤️)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Throwing her bag over the table, Y/N slumped down on the couch, letting out a sigh. The pressure from the higher-ups, consistent criticism of your work and impending deadlines were weighing heavily on her shoulders and she was in a desperate need of a break.

She looked over to the stack of papers on the table that now lay abandoned. The rejection from the publishing company was the fucking cherry on top. Y/N buried her face in her hands in frustration as she was almost on the verge of a mental breakdown, a few angry tears rolling down her cheeks. Letting her head fall back, she swiped away those angry tears, letting out a long sigh of defeat.

“Why can't I ever do anything right?” She mumbled, her breathing heavy as she bit down on her trembling lips.

In her late twenties, after a nasty break up, Y/N had a marvellous thought that she needed a fresh start. So she had left her corporate job back in Atlanta and moved to New York to pursue her dreams of becoming a writer. She had secured a good position in one of the leading magazine companies and started to write the novel that she had been planning since she was seventeen, but lately nothing seemed to work out the way she wanted. Sure, she was getting paid well but it wasn't enough compared to how much she had to deal with her shitty coworkers and bosses. She had now lost every motivation to continue her novel after the first draft got rejected by the publishing companies enough times to make her feel insecure about her writing.

“Why can't my life just be a goddamn Hallmark movie?” Y/N muttered under her breath as she picked up a cushion and covered your face, letting out a muffled scream.

Her wallowing time was interrupted by the blaring noise of her phone in the awfully quiet apartment, making her nearly jump out of her skin. Another frustrated groan left her lips as she saw the person calling her.

“I told you to stop calling me, for god's sake!” Y/N yelled into her phone.

“Come on, Y/N. One dinner.” The man on the other end pestered. “You know, at work people talk about how uptight you are. Let yourself go, once in a while.”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Michael- I'm not interested. I told you a hundred times before and I'll say it again. Leave. Me. Alone!” She said. The line on the other side went quiet.

“Bitch.” She heard him say before the call disconnected.

“Fuck off!” She yelled again, knowing fully well he couldn't have heard her now. Y/N finally decided to put him in her blocklist because Michael didn't seem like he was gonna stop otherwise.

It wasn't that she had a stick up her ass for not wanting to go on a dinner date with her coworker. Honestly, she missed the whole first date experience, but Michael was definitely not the guy for her, or for any other girls out there in her opinion. He threw around sexist comments around the office like it was some cool shit and chivalry was definitely dead for him.

Y/N finally got up from her seat, shoulders still tense from the day's events. Opening the refrigerator, she stood there gawking at the leftovers in it.

“Cold pizza….spaghetti….chocolate brownies….” She looked at your dinner options, weighing each one's pros and cons before settling on - “Brownies it is.”

Taking out the chocolate confection , she returned to the couch. She put on Netflix as she browsed through it's movie section.

“Stupid Prince Charming-” she scoffed, biting into the delicious the chocolate chip brownie in hand. Grumbling at the unrealistic standards of Netflix rom coms, she still pressed the play on the film The Proposal.

Finishing her 'dinner', Y/N picked up the comforter, nestling deep into her couch as she watched the coldhearted Margaret fall head over heels for her assistant, the exhaustion kicked in.

“Fuck!”

And that's how the next morning started as Y/N woke up one hour later than usual. She had fallen into a deep sleep on her couch before Andrew even got to propose to Margaret, which was not exactly the wisest decision as the next morning, her neck and back screaming in pain.

The girl knew she was going to be late to work today by the time she had left the house. Hair up in a messy bun, a bag hanging from her shoulder, she tried to smoothen down the creases on her skirt before rushing towards the elevator in high heels.

“Hold the door!” She yelled at the man inside as soon as the door started to close. She sprinted towards the elevator as the man kept looking at her, an annoyed look evident on his face when he slammed the button, taking a step forward to keep the door from closing.

“Thank you!” Y/N huffed, as she got in the elevator. The man chose to remain silent and he pressed the ground button on the elevator. “I am so screwed today! I have never been this late to work!” She babbled on but the man still maintained the stoic look on his face. Y/N slightly turned to face the man of stone. He was probably in his thirties, his dirty blonde hair, sparkling green eyes and light stubble on his cheeks went very well with the crisp grey suit he was wearing. One hand in his pocket, he just stood there, jaw clenched together, eyes focused on the shut doors.

“You know, I should have set the alarm! Stupid-”

“Do you ever shut up?” The man finally spoke, a look of disinterest passing his face.

“Wow. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, I guess.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Excuse me?” His voice was hard.

“I said, someone woke up-”

“I heard what you said. I am just not interested in listening to your morning fuck-up story.” He scoffed.

“Woah, okay.” She widened her eyes at his disrespectful comment, “I just-” The elevator reached the ground floor of their apartment building and the doors opened with a ‘ding’.

“I think you don't want to waste anymore time talking since you're already running late.” Y/N gasped slightly at the audacity of the man. “Have a good day, Miss L/N.” The man wished before moving out of the confined space as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him and wondered how he knew her name.

“Have a good day as well, Mr….” She trailed off as she got out of the vator as well.

“Dean Winchester.” He said as he walked away, never once looking back as Y/N stood there, bewildered at what just happened.

Hands balled up into fists in apprehension, Y/N inhaled audibly, as she stood on the other side of the door. She was late to the meeting by half an hour, twenty-four minutes to be precise and nothing annoyed her boss more than tardiness.

“Y/N, it's a pleasure that you finally graced this meeting with your presence on this fine morning.” Abaddon’s words laced with acute sarcasm made it quite clear that Y/N was doomed when she entered the room. The remaining four pairs of eyes in the room were zeroed in on her, as she abashedly took a seat at the far-end of the table. She couldn't risk her job because of her smartass mouth and she was already on thin ice, so she kept quiet and let Abaddon carry on with the meeting cause even Cruella De Vil would be hiding her face in shame if she ever met Abaddon. She was an Umbridge before her coffee and a Regina George after drinking her coffee. There was no way she was going to spare the poor girl today.

“As I was pointing out, our sales have gone down in recent months quite drastically. Readers are saying the contents are not relatable or entertaining enough….”

A yawn threatened to leave Y/N as she listened to Abaddon go on about the poor performance of the company, her mind preoccupied by a certain green-eyed man. She had never seen Dean in the building before this morning. He was annoyingly good looking and rude and Y/N couldn't seem to get rid of the image of him looking dapper in that grey suit. She was barely able to focus on what Abaddon was saying.

With Dean Winchester still running through her mind, Y/N trudged back to her small cubicle after the painfully hour long meeting.

Plopping down on the chair, covering her face with her hands, she exclaimed, “I need coffee!”

“Thank me later.” She turned her head to Meg as she pushed a hot cup of coffee towards her before going back to her own cubicle.

“Black, just like my heart.” She said before inhaling the strong smell of the drink. Taking a little sip, she let out a sigh of content. “Jesus, I needed this badly.”

“Yeah, you look like shit,” Meg chuckled, earning a glare from her friend. “Did you even take a look at the mirror today? Honestly, I am not even exaggerating, I-”

“Meg, I’ll forever be grateful to you for this cup of coffee, but please stop talking.” Y/N groaned loudly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Michael walking towards her and put on headphones and turning the volume up, trying to look busy. “Heads up, incoming douchebag.” The brunette said. After the hubbub of the morning and the shitshow of a meeting, Michael was the last person Y/N wanted to see.

“Morning, Y/N.” The smug smile on his face made her cringe. This had been going on for a month now. She thought after last night, Michael would finally back down, but apparently she was very wrong. “My messages don't seem to get through anymore.”

“She blocked you. God, take a hint.” Meg muttered.

“She's right. It's ‘cause you can’t seem to take no for an answer.” Y/N huffed.

“One dinner. Just one.”

“No.”

“She said no. Isn't that enough?” Meg jumped to her friend’s rescue when she saw her fumbling and getting uncomfortable. Michael inched towards Y/N anyway, completely ignoring his colleague’s comment, a smirk evident on his face.

“Y/N, don't be so uptight. What harm does a single dinner gonna do?” He asked.

“It’ll be cheating. I have a boyfriend.” Y/N blurted out, making Meg’s eyes go wide, but it actually seemed to work as Michael moved away from her.

“A boyfriend?”

“Yeah. We have been going out for a while now.” The said man frowned as he thought the words over before leaving her space with a little nod of his head. Maybe it worked on him without any hassle, but she knew this lie would come back to bite her in the ass if the whole office got to know about it. Oh, and they would know since turning around, Y/N saw Ruby staring at her, a grin appearing on her face as she took in all the juicy gossip. The lie was now gonna spread like wildfire.

“Spill.” Y/N turned to look at her friend who stood there, hands folded, eyes wide, brows raised in utter disbelief. She puckered her lips as she waited on Y/N to explain who just frowned in reply. “Well? What happened? I want all the details, Y/N!”

“Oh come on, L/N. Share the deets.” Ruby snickered. “Who's the man that actually managed to capture your heart?”

“Dean Winchester.” The name tumbled out of her lips so easily and that was how she knew she was screwed.

Chapter 2

Feedback is highly appreciated!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this series!

#deanwanddamons2kcelebration #girl next door's make me feel bingo #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #au dean x reader #dean winchester #irresistibly yours #au dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x y/n

[jeyusos-girl]

Expecting

Part 2.5

A/N: it’s been a while since i’ve updated this story and I feel so terrible😭 this has been in my drafts for a while and i’m just now finishing it. consider this a filler chapter, i will be continuing this and hopefully the next chapter will be out soon, thank you for reading ❤️

warnings: possible spelling errors 😗

word count: 1268

                                           ....................................

Samantha and Erik were cuddled up on the couch watching Proud Family reruns on Disney plus. “You hungry bae?” Erik questioned rubbing her arm.

“Yeah,” she answered, “did you have anything in mind?”

“What about that soul food place around the corner?”

“Ooo, yeah that sounds good,” she said, “get me a number 2 with mac and cheese, yams and collard greens. Ooo and a side of fried shrimp pleaseeee.”

“I got you, ma” he replied, kissing her forehead.

“Thank you, baby. Oh! Don’t forget the honey biscuits!” He yelled back an “okay” and made his way outside towards his car.

Samantha was still laying on the couch watching tv when her phone started ringing. She grabbed her phone from the side table and saw that it was a facetime call from Layla. She answered, smiling at the screen. “Hey, Laylay! What’s up?”

“Heyy, girl. What are you doing?”

“Nothing much, waiting for Erik to bring me my food. I’m getting hungrier by the second.” she groaned. 

“Hm, speaking of Erik, did you tell him? I swear to god if you say no I’m gonna smack your big-headed ass through the screen,” Layla threatened squinting her eyes.

“Damn, bitch calm down,” Samantha laughed, shaking her head, “yes I told him, Jesus.”

“And you’re just now telling me?! Oh my god, what did he say?” Layla shouted. 

“Layla, I’m gonna hang up on you if you keep on screaming in my damn ear. I only told him two days ago, calm ya self.” she scolded playfully. 

“Okay, okay I’m sorrrry, just tell me!”

“Well, I told him and at first he was quiet. Obviously, I was nervous but he reassured me that no matter what he was gonna stick by my side.” Samantha smiled, biting her lip

“Awww, see? I told you that you were overreacting. Over here fussing for nothing.”

“I know, I know. I’m just happy I got it over with, and I’m happy that he’s happy.”

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Layla gasped, “wait, we have to tell Janae and Gia!”

“Oh shit! You’re right! Add them to this call.” Samantha and Layla met them at a Paint and Sip studio about three and a half years ago. They all got tipsy and would not stop cracking jokes with each other. From that day on, they became the best of friends, they even called themselves “The Fab Four.” 

They waited for the call to connect before they heard Gia’s voice. 

“Hey, y’all,” Gia dragged out.

“Hey!” they all said in unison.

“Whats up girlies?” Janae exclaimed, setting her phone down in front of her.

“What y’all doing?” Gia questioned, lighting the blunt between her fingers.

“We just called because Samantha has something she wants to tell you, girls, right?” Layla raised her brows, looking at Samantha through the screen. 

“Ooo, y’all know I love tea,” Janae exclaimed clapping her hands causing the three girls to laugh.

“Okay well, there’s no other way to say this so I’ll just say it. I’m pregnant!” Samantha exclaimed, a sweet smile on her face. Both girls gasped loudly while Layla squealed excitedly. Janae got up from her seat and jumped around her room clapping, Gia was still sitting in her seat eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

“Janae you are so damn extra!” Samantha shouted laughing.

“I’m sorry but this is so exciting!” Janae smiled.

“Samantha I’m so happy for you. How far along are you?” Gia questioned leaning in close to her screen.

“I’m almost 8 weeks! And I’m already fucking exhausted as hell.” Samantha groaned smiling weakly. 

“Awww, my baby,” Janae cooed, “Oh! How did your baby daddy react?”

“He took it well, surprisingly,” Samantha started before being interrupted.

“Girl it ain’t no surprise, I told you that man is in love with you. This girl went weeks without telling Erik because she was scared he was gonna leave her.” Layla spoke addressing Gia and Janae. Gia shook her head taking another drag of her blunt. Samantha was about to rebuttal when the front door opened and Erik walked in with two bags of food. 

“Speaking of my baby daddy,” Samantha looked over at Erik and smiled sweetly. Erik dropped the bags off on the kitchen counter and made his way over to Samantha, leaning over the back of the couch and kissing her neck.

“Who are you talking to?” he asked, face still nuzzled in her neck. 

“Your besties, say hi” Samantha angled her phone toward Erik.

“Wassup y’all.” Erik nodded towards the phone, they all greeted him and he made his way around the couch, plopping down next to Samantha. “What yall talking about?” he questioned.

“We’re talking about how you ruined hot girl summer for Samantha. Took our girl out the game.” Gia explained shaking her head. Erik laughed throwing his head back. Samantha shook her head smiling at her screen.

“Y’all always talking about how you want to be aunties right?” Erik shrugged smiling.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I took one for the team.” Samantha rolled her eyes. 

“Girl we all knew you were gonna be the first to get knocked up, the way you and Erik be fucking I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner,” Layla commented. Janae and Gia started cracking up and Erik couldn’t help but laugh.

“LAYLA! Shut your ass up. I can’t stand you,” Samantha shook her head, “Anyway I’m gonna let y’all goofy asses go so I can eat. Bye, y’all!” The girls said their goodbyes and Samantha set her phone down on the coffee table in front of her. She looked over at Erik to find him already looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

“Your friends are crazy, you know that?” he snorted.

“Yeah I know,” Samantha sighed, “but they’re your friends too.” 

“Yeah yeah, let’s eat ma.” They both made their way to the kitchen. Erik handed one bag to Samantha and headed towards the fridge to grab them both a drink. Samantha took her spot at the kitchen island and began pulling out the contents of the bag. Samantha opened her box of fried catfish and her favorite sides.

“Mmm smells so good, doesn’t it?” Erik hummed in agreement, he sat down and placed a water bottle down in front of Samantha.

“I’m about to tear this shit up,” Erik rubbed his hands together causing Samantha to giggle.

“Ooo what’d you get?” Samantha snuck a peek over at Erik’s food, licking her lips.

“The same thing you got but with jerk chicken instead of fish. Oh shit, can’t forget the biscuits.” Erik pulled out a small paper bag and set it in between the two of them. Samantha opened the bag and pulled out a biscuit, bringing it to her lips and taking a big bite. She moaned at the taste while doing her happy dance and Erik shook his head chuckling slightly.

“It’s that good?”

“Hell yeah, it is. This shit is about to be gone in 2.5 seconds,” Samantha stated. Erik smiled slightly at her and began eating. 

About 20 minutes later, the pair had finished eating. They were cuddled on the couch watching tv when Samantha looked up at Erik and smiled. His eyes met hers and he furrowed his brows.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he raised a brow.

“I can’t admire my man? Damn,” she scoffed playfully.

“Okay okay, my bad. Admire all you want baby,” he winked. Samantha giggled snuggling closer to him. 

“Thank you for the food baby,” Samantha smiled.

“Anything for my baby momma,” he kissed her forehead, pulling her close.

#Erik Stevens #erik killmonger imagines #Erik Killmonger #erik stevens imagine #erik killmonger smut #Erik killmonger x Reader #erik killmonger x oc #erik killmonger x black!reader

[emilycollins00]

A3 actors! Art in bloom

Type: One shot

Pairing: Miyoshi Kazunari x Reader

Theme: Passion / Art / Clash

Contrary to what many people and even classmates of yours thought, being an art student was not something you should chose to do lightly.

Sure, it seemed enjoyable, cute even. But no one ever talked about how many hours you would spend with a single portrait, drafting about abstract concepts or trying to discern at two in the morning whether a sculpture should turn more sideways or look at the ground to create a deeper perspective. 

Art was wild.

But you loved it and, why not admit it, you took it pretty seriously. Maybe a tiny bit more than most people.

That’s why you had always liked how Kazunari Miyoshi, although being the loud person he was, frequently went on and on with you discussing ideas when there was some debate in class. That brain of his was something else. His works and usual approach when mixing modern and traditional Japanese culture fascinated you. It really did.

But that had been changing lately, and it angered you.

Up until this year you hadn't really cared about it. Everyone had their right to live however they wanted after all.

However, without being able to tell when it began, you started casually observing him. You watched him talk to your other classmates as soon as the lecture, frowned as he concentrated on the draft they had one hour and a half to finish or taking selfies and live videos of the works you all were demanded to do. You even discovered yourself staring and how the sun caressed his profile first hour in the morning.

He had a nice profile.

By that point, something inside you was getting frustrated. He participated in class and attended to the lectures, but at the same time…? you felt he was starting prioritising social media over art, or looking for people for one of his popular mixers, like so many of your other classmates, who had most likely entered this major without much thought, did.

You would understand if he would have a part-time job, but the thought of him being able to do so much more and deciding to stop midway left you speechless.

You wished for him to take more things seriously. 

“Miyoshi, were you able to clean all the supplies from last class?" you called him out between the break. Everyone in class traded places to carry the main boxes with brushes, paints and whatever main source they had to work with each week "Our teacher told me to take some clay from there. I'm planning to use them for my final project, but I can't seem to find the key in the secretary office”

The university student lifted his head from his mobile and tipped on his chin, trying to remember "Supplies from...? Oh man, THAT is why I had them in my working space!” He palped his jeans looking for it “My bad, I was totes in a hurry and just closed as soon as we were done!” 

You contained an exasperated groan “Why would you get the key unless it was to clean the practice room?” 

Kazunari laughed nervously under your intimidating glare “True, true! It's just that I was talking with some friends over the phone and they were in a hurry so…” he showed you the key taking it out of his pocket, maybe to show that at least he hadn’t lost it “Do you need them now? I could go clean for you” 

The vein you had tried so hard to maintain calm popped altogether. Not wanting to keep talking, you rapidly grabbed the key from his hand and headed to take the supplies. God grief how you hated that carefree attitude. 

                                         ……………………..…….

“No prob, dude! Next time just hit me up with a DM and I’ll come running to your uni here! In exchange, I’ll need your help to finish the flyers so…” 

Recognizing the flashy voice, you slowly looked behind, witnessing the blond with another person. Was he meeting with people to play around here too? 

You couldn’t believe it. You all had your final projects deadlines almost spitting in your faces! That’s why you had to come to this other university to ask for permission to use a kiln for your final, as you didn’t have lectures prepared today and your university didn’t have any. Didn’t look like it was Kazunari’s case. 

“Uh? No way, Y/N-pyon!” he waved at you with both hands, confirming it was you indeed, as he got closer “Looking fleek today too! What are you doing here in Yosei?” the person walking next to him whispered something “They’re a friend from my major Tsuzuroon, I told you about them, dude!” 

You mentally scoffed. Without returning his greet and turning on your heels, you headed for the teacher’s office.

 “You said friend but…” Tsuzuru squinted his eyes, watching you leave “…It doesn't look like they like you very much” 

“No worries! Nowadays they are always like that. But their works are so lit! Y/N-pyon is the ultimate remix of you, Ten-ten and Yukki!” 

“That’s… not a good thing, Miyoshi-san”

                            …………………………………………

“Y/N-pyon, about-”

“Miyoshi, sorry. I am on my way to Yosei University to finish my work and unlike your usual approach of work to play, I actually don’t have time to waste”

“Uh? My works are…”

“Are what? I’ve been seeing you doing half-assed things all over the semester. This last week you didn’t even come at the afternoon lectures” you were pretty sure this was just you venting at this point “You’re amazing Miyoshi, I honestly think that, so why? If… If you only put more of yourself into it, your art would be even more unbelievable!”

He went quiet, a rare sight.

“Art it’s not something you just do for laughs; I thought you were one of the few people here that felt the same and-” the phone in your bag started ringing. Head  teacher. Inhaling deeply, you answered it “Yes?”

“Y/N-san? I am so sorry. Could you come to Josey university?” 

Losing the eye contact you had been maintaining with the blond boy, your heart sank as you heard the words ‘kiln’ and ‘malfunction’. “…Please tell me my final project is ok” 

                                       ……………………………….

You stood in silence, looking at the mess when you heard a knock at the door.

“I know I shouldn’t have followed and am expecting you throw me out the door but…” you didn’t move an inch so Kazunari took that as a free pass.

Just as the teacher told you, the electricity in the small building had had an issue and there had been a combustion, meaning, the sculpture you had kept here while working for weeks was now cracked and in shreds. You sniffed, brushing away the tears that were trying to come out from your eyes. All your hard work. All the time spent, had been for nothing.

“The Kiln is burnt. I don’t have anything good to save” you felt emotionally exhausted “Damn, I should have used air dry clay since the beginning… or not tried to sculpt anything” your vision became blurry again “I don’t know why do I make everything more difficult that it is”

Kazunari contemplated the situation, studying the seemingly full cracked sculpture from afar.

“Teach probably told you she would wait for you to turn on the work, right?” He saw you vaguely nodding you head “You got this!” he put his hand on your shoulder, you barely glancing at him “Look, If you still wanna use this base I’ll go ask for some moisturize and clean water to mix. Then I will maintain the upper part as you work down there, not bad idea right?”

You stared at him, finally grasping that he had come all the way here and was now trying to help “Why are you here? I… was being a busybody telling you how to work in our major” you had realized you had crossed the line back then.

Kazunari laughed, shaking his head “You were not saying anything that was a lie though, I don't want to admit it, but it’s true I've been a mess for a while”

“I guess parties require a lot of work” you bite your tongue hard. He was being a decent person trying to help and you couldn’t stop for two seconds to pick on him? You wanted to punch yourself.

“Mmm? Ah, our theatre troupe is almost opening for performance and the next troupe is on practices so flyers and scripts are running at full gas”

You stopped looking at your sculpture. What did he just say about a theatre?

“…What?”

“You’ve never come, Y/N-pyon? Mankai company is the best theatre in Veludo way! You totes should come, I’ll even send you the tickets for our new performance!” before you knew it, he had already DM you what you imagined was all the background information.

The moment you unlocked it, you almost dropped the phone. The photos and drawings of the posters were amazing, and you just knew who it had done “You… never said you had a job”

Kazunari considered what you pointed out. Mankai had managed to recover from what they needed to pay but they still didn't have enough founds “I’ve never thought about our acts as a job thought”

Your mind was a mess. Being an actor and doing publicity didn’t count for him as he studied? No wonder he usually left early! Now you felt even worst. You had behaved like a… “Uh, are these original templates?” you browsed over the performances’ posters, each one more astonishing than the other “This is… wow and this one?” 

He blinked, noticing how the tone of your voice was now more soothing. You had somewhat calm down. He would high-key enjoy hearing you talk to him like that more often “Hey, enough about me. We have work to do”

You agreed, putting away your phone “You’re right but again I… I am sorry, Miyoshi. And thanks, for staying” 

“No prob, Y/N-pyon!” 

“Would you tell me what I could do so you stopped calling me that?” 

“Eeeeeeh why? I think it fits! It's super-duper cute, like you!” 

Thump!

No. You told yourself.

Coming back to your senses you told yourself the warm you felt in your cheeks was due to summer starting earlier. It definitely wasn’t because of Kazunari smile directed at you, helped you or how the sun reflected on his perfect profile as you both started working on your work. 

Art was wild… but it was also an evocative of feelings.

_________________________________________________________

This one has been a difficult one! I wanted Reader to kind of clash with his mindset

Hope you guys enjoy it. Have a wonderful day! 💕

#a3 #a3! act! addict! actors! #A3! Actor Training Game #a3! #a3! game #kazunari miyoshi #a3 kazunari #reader insert #reader #kazunari x reader #a3! kazunari #miyoshi kazunari x reader #kazunari miyoshi x reader #one shot #a3 tsuzuru

[realllllfangirllllll]

Beyond Lovers || Chp.4

{More Than Friends Sequel}

Masterlist

Chairman!Jaehyun AU x CEO!Reader AU

Summary: You find yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the former CEO after overcoming your fear of love. Although there were rough patches, both of you are now stronger than ever. However, you realize that maintaining a relationship and a company at the same time can be very difficult, especially if someone is out to destroy the both of you.

{ Previous / Next }

You were in awe as you walked through the building that was now lit up with purple, pink, and blue neon lights. It seemed it was only yesterday that Jaehyun proposed to have you as NCT’s CEO. You blindly accepted his offer not knowing how stressful it would be to weigh both online college and a company on your shoulders. Your eyes have almost gone blind from staring at a computer all day. From doing online courses to mapping out designs and promotions for NCT. You wouldn’t have been able to get through even half of it if your friends weren’t there to support you.

For the past few weeks, Soyeon and Mark have stayed up at the crack of dawn studying with you in hopes of finishing the courses required for the three of you to graduate on time. It’d be an understatement to say that the workload is difficult. At times, you even considered going back to college to learn face to face with a professor. However, Soyeon and Mark have always toughed it out and helped to make sure the three of you had the time for NCT.

When you have finished the crazy college workload for the day, you were faced with another workload from NCT. Photoshoots, coordinating, and managing the company left you absolutely no time to relax. You were just thankful your friends were suffering along with you. Soyeon, Soojin, Lucas, Winwin, and Ten were the models of the company. Since they were already professionals, half of the stress was taken away from you, not to mention that Ten’s ability to design saved the company so much time and money. Photoshoots also go smoothly with their professional opinions for improvements. On the other hand, Mark and Johnny were of great help behind the scenes. Mark was in charge of contacting future partners and other human resource duties while Johnny and you took charge of photography and video contents. The whole company was surprised, except for you and Jaehyun, that Johnny decided to retire from modeling. You and Jaehyun have always known Johnny’s passion and skill for photography. Plus, Jaehyun has always told you how guilty he felt to have made Johnny model with a “playboy” image back in SM. Taking both their thoughts into consideration, you used NCT as the perfect opportunity to settle both their concerns and wishes.

You walked through the crowded building remembering the countless nights the nine of you spent decorating and making the building look like what you all have envisioned for it to be: a place of creative freedom and a place that held no boundaries nor anyone to force a fake image upon others. With a big smile on your face, you greeted the people who congratulated you and had small talks with the guests of tonight’s grand opening event. You saw your friends enjoying their time eating, taking pictures, and just happily talking to other people. An ooze of happiness burst from inside of you. Although it was beyond difficult to start the company you and Jaehyun dreamed about, the endless efforts the nine of you put in resulted in a great outcome. 

You scanned around the room and stopped when you saw a particularly well-dressed man staring back at you with a bright smile on his face. Returning the smile, you subtly motioned for him to come.

“Hey there beautiful stranger,” the husky voice said.

You rolled your eyes at him as he wrapped his long arms around your waist. He stared at you lovingly and dove forward for a long kiss. 

Pulling apart, he said in a breathless whisper, “Congratulations Ms. CEO, this all happened because of you.”

Giving him a quick peck, you smiled and whispered next to his ears, “Well aren’t you lucky to be dating her.”

Smiling with his dimples exposed, Jaehyun tucked your hair behind your ears and gazed at you with loving eyes. “I sure am.”

Suddenly, you heard a buzzing sound in his pocket as he walked away to answer the call. You weren’t sure if it was because of the strobe lights or if you were just imagining things, but you saw a slight change in Jaehyun’s eyes. He seemed angry at first, maybe even furious, but when he made eye contact with you, his bright smile returned. You quickly brushed aside the doubtful feeling and walked toward him. 

Gently, placing a hand on his shoulder, you asked him softly, “Everything alright?”

With a light chuckle, he grabbed your hand and placed them beside him. As to assure you, he rubbed soft circles into the back of your hand and said, “I just got a call from our collaboration’s department chief. There were some problems with the contract.”

Pouting, you asked him, “So you have to go? I didn’t even do my welcoming speech yet.”

Jaehyun chuckled, pinching your cheek lightly, “I’ll see my famous girlfriend on youtube later. I know you’ll do great, but don’t forget to mention the handsome man who funded this whole project.”

You scoffed as he gave you a wink and started heading towards the exit. You saw him grab a glass of champagne before waving goodbye to you, disappearing into the elevator.

Sighing, you, too, took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and gulped it down. You tried to calm your nerves as you gave yourself a mental pep talk. Truth be told, you were a nervous wreck on the inside even though you seemed poised and calm on the exterior. Memorizing your speech wasn’t the difficult part, after all, you planned to speak your immediate thoughts instead of drafting out a speech. This way, the people will understand your genuine appreciation toward them and the company. However, what made you break down with anxiety was the gossip and drama that surrounded you in the past. Although your dating scandal with Jaehyun became less of an interest to the public, there were still many people who doubted you and the position you carry. It took you a lot to fight down your insecurities to even get dressed for the event and show up. You didn’t want to disappoint your friends who all counted on you, so you shallowed down your fears and dragged yourself to the event with forged confidence, hoping nobody will notice your nervous breakdown.

You felt someone lightly wrap their arm around your neck and you turned around to see Soojin. Your best friend gave you an assuring smile and told you, “It’s going to be ok y/n. If anything happens, which it won’t, you have the eight of us to back you up.”

You returned a forced smile and replied, “It’s seven now.”

Looking at you with confusion, she asked, “Seven? Who left?”

“Jaehyun did. He had to deal with one of the department chiefs.”

“Tsk tsk Leaving his girlfriend on one of her most nerve-wracking nights. What a shame,” she shook her head and looked at you with a straight face, “I disapprove.”

You chuckled and lightly shoved her, “Shut up Soojin. He wouldn’t leave me if he saw how nervous I am. Plus, he has important business to attend to. It’ll determine all nine of our futures.”

Raising her arms up in defeat, she said, “Fine, fine. I’m just salty he took my beautiful girlfriend from me.”

You saw her pout as she leaned closer to you, and you pressed your hand on top of her mouth, shoving her away. “Please, you had countless boyfriends and now you try to claim I’m yours?” You looked at her with fake shock, “How dare you! You cheater!”

You both laugh, feeling better already that Soojin was there to shake off your nerves. Soon after, you saw the rest of your friends come over, encouraging you that you’ll do fine. You must say, it was nice to always have the seven of them by your side. Everything felt like it was in place as long as you and your friends were together, indifferent to the media, dramas, and gossips that could easily separate you all.

“Please give a round of applause for NCT’s very own CEO, y/n y/l/n!”

A roar of applause was heard through the neon-lit floor and you felt your nerves rising. Giving a small smile, you walked to the front of the podium as gracefully as you could. 

Taking a deep inhale, you let out your words loud and confidently, “Thank you for the warm welcome! I am so pleased to finally introduce to you, NCT.” Another round of applause stroke and a few cheers were heard. “Our company has been working endlessly to introduce to you all our wonderful models and designs. I would like to first, thank all of our NCT models for bringing this collection to life: Soyeon, Lucas, Soojin, Ten and Winwin,” through your anxious eyes, you saw your five friends waving to the crowd. You gave them a warm smile and continued, “These models are the center of NCT and my most precious friends. Please give them your utmost love and support.”

You continued through your speech with no mistakes and applauses were heard throughout the room. You started to feel at ease as you finished your speech with the words you wanted to say the most, “Last but not least, I would like to thank this one very special person. He has been the light of my life and the most supportive and helpful person to both me and NCT. Unfortunately, he had some matters to attend to so he won’t be here to introduce himself and talk to you all. Nonetheless, I would like to thank Jaehyun with the bottom of my heart. I love you and will continue to lo-”

A cold liquid flowing down your head caused you to freeze before you can finish your sentence. You tried continuing to speak but your eyes started to see red paint drip down from your hair to your face. You felt the crowd’s eyes stare at you as more paint fell down your body. Suddenly, you heard a few people push their way to the front of the crowd and curse at you.

“‘Love’ my ass!”

“Nice way to kiss your way up to the top!!”

“You’re nothing but a slut!”

Once again, fear and anxiety took over you. You didn’t know what else to do but stand there dumbfounded. No matter how hard you tried to muster up your courage to speak, nothing came out. The people just continued to shout threats and throw all sorts of foods at you. The room started spinning and your vision started to get blurry. You saw a swarm of security running towards the shouting people and Mark coming up beside you to call an end to the event. Just as you were about to lose yourself and fall to the ground, Johnny caught you by the waist.

You heard him whisper by your ears, “Hold it in, stay composed. Don’t let these idiots see you fall.”

Johnny’s words made you get a hold onto reality a little better as you stand up straight, acting as if nothing was wrong. You clutch onto his arms as the both of you walk towards the exit behind the backdrop.

———

• Sorry I’ve been MIA & S U F F E R I N G •

• I have too much work and I’m just a tiny girl so pls have mercy on me 🤕 •

• I’m also hella frustrated bc my card charged me for SuperM albums but I couldn’t place my order on the website like wtf does that even make sense to u •

• ANYWAYS HOW WAS JOPPING YALL LEMME HEAR UR REACTIONS •

• STREAM JOPPING 💎 •

#nct #nct 127 #wayv #kpop #nct dream #nct imagines #kpop social media au #kpop texts #nct 127 smut #nct angst #nct texts #nct social media au #nct fluff #nct jaehyun #nct 127 social media au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 angst #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 texts #nct 127 jaehyun #jaehyun social media au #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun texts #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #yuta imagines #wayv imagines #beyond lovers

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 11

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: none

It's been a long time since I rock and rolled

It's been a long time since I did the Stroll

Oh let me get it back let me get it back

Let me get it back baby where I come from

(x)

The shrill ring of an alarm clock awoke the couple on Sunday morning. Elle's hand shot out from under the covers, frantically trying to turn it off. After a few seconds of fumbling and silent cursing, the alarm ceased it's screeching. Peaceful silence filled the small bedroom of her apartment, and for a moment he thought of just drifting back off.

He was persuaded out of this thought as he felt a pair of lips press to his neck and a few stray curls tickling his cheek.

"Time to get up," Her voice was full of sleep.

"But it's so warm here," He responded, wrapping his arms around her naked waist.

"I know, I wanna stay too, but we've got work to do," She laughed as he nuzzled his nose with hers.

"We could hold class here, I could teach you a few things while still under the covers," He teased, his calloused hands running further down her body.

"Babe," She half-scolded him, biting back a laugh as his beard tickled her neck as he kissed her.

"I know," He sighed dramatically, letting her break from his hold. The two crawled out of bed, their bodies tensing when greeted with the chilly morning air.

She walked to the bathroom while he retrieved a pair of sweatpants from his bag. He was unfolding them when he felt a sharp smack across his rear. He turned to see her smiling up at him, toothbrush in her mouth.

"Can you blame me?" She asked.

He answered by grabbing a handful of hers before giving her a light smack.

"Brush your teeth, dear," He smiled back. She rolled her eyes but retreated back to the bathroom.

He finished getting dressed, a grey t-shirt from his boot camp days and a pair of sneakers that didn't get much use other than working out in the minuscule station gym.

He switched places with Elle, brushing his teeth and slashing some water on his hair while she got dressed.

He met her in the kitchen, where she was pulling out a frying pan and a carton of eggs. She was wearing a blue tracksuit and a N.O.W. New York chapter t-shirt with a pair of converse.

"Scrambled or Over Easy?" She called to him.

"Over Easy," He answers, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and throwing a few slices of bread into the toaster.

He retrieved the morning paper from the hallway while she turned on the radio. The voice of Carole King drifted from the speakers and filled the kitchen as she cracked the eggs into the pan.

He retrieved the newly toasted bread and set it on the table. He grabbed some plates from the cabinet and held them out so Elle could scoop the eggs on to them. They sat at the table together, her feet in his lap.

He read from the morning paper as they ate, with her adding commentary every once in a while.

"Election Day is coming up, they seem to be writing about it like Nixon was already re-elected,” He shared, absentmindedly moving the egg around in his plate.

"Ugh, I hope not. He's kept us in this war for too long," She scoffed.

"He's been pulling troops out though, it sounds like he is ending it soon,"

"This close to Election Day?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "We'll see what he does after the 8th,"

"So you're for McGovern then?" He asked, putting the paper down so he could finish eating.

"I mean I was hoping Chisholm was gonna be the democratic candidate but McGovern seems pretty strong too," She explained. "Chisholm was an assemblywoman in New York City, did some great stuff there. And it would have been cool to see a black woman as president,"

"Do you think America would be ready for that?" He asked.

"Probably not, but times are changing. I hope to see at least one in my lifetime," She finished her orange juice and poured another glass. "In the meantime, McGovern would end the war, he's been against it since the beginning. No offense to you of course,"

"None taken. I went because it seemed expected of me. Military family and all. And I probably would have been drafted if I'd waited," He explained. "I was 18, didn't really know what was going on, just that I was going to help those in need,"

"And once you were there?" She asked. He realized that he'd never really talked about his service with her before. He could see now the contained curiosity in her face, like she'd been wanting to ask but was unsure of his to brooch the topic.

"I didn't really know why we were there. We didn't seem to be doing much. I barely saw any action. We mostly were in the jungle, keeping watch and being bored. Probably one of the reasons why we came back so quickly,"

"I heard much different stories in college. Not that I don't believe you, but protesters always made it seem like you guys were slaughtering innocent people everyday,"

"I didn't experience that in my time, but I've heard other stories from other people. Some just won't talk about it at all, they freeze up. I don't think anyone really wants to stay though,"

"So you don't think we should be there?" She asked. He paused, thinking about it.

"I don't know if my opinion matters. They aren't going to pull out of Vietnam just because I have an opinion,"

"I think it matters. You were in the thick of it, your opinion probably matters the most. You fought in a highly controversial war that's still going on, and came home to a very divided country. There's protests and media coverage, it's almost impossible to not have an opinion at this point," She stated.

He ran his hands over her feet in his lap. He knew she had strong opinions, he appreciated it. But he didn't himself. He pushed any thoughts of being in Vietnam out of his head, didn't want to think about it. She was making him consider it.

"As I said, I'm not sure if what we're doing over there is helping. Nixon says he's pulling out troops, which is probably for the best. We could be using that money back home,"

"Yeah I think so too," She said quietly. He went back to eating and she poked him with one of her feet a moment later.

"Hey," She called. He looked back up at her. "Thanks for talking to me about your service, I know it must have been hard. And you know that I love you no matter what, right?"

"Yeah," He smiled, tickling the bottom of her foot, making her squeak. "And I love you even if you’re going to protests and making my job harder,"

"Peace and love man," She put up the V symbol with her fingers.

"Just don't run off and become a Hare Krishna. You can't pull off bald," He gets up and kisses her forehead. They both laugh.

"It's almost nine, do you want to start heading over?" She asked him, clearing the table after they were done eating.

"Yeah, let's go," He agreed, helping her set the plates into the sink. He'd volunteered to do dishes later.

They got into his car and drove towards the station. The streets were quiet, with most of the shops being closed for the day.

"Everyone must be in church," She noted, staring out the window as they drove.

"Yeah, it's pretty quiet out here on Sunday mornings," He noted.

"It was like that in Indiana too," She said, "New York was never quiet. Someone was always out and about. And I lived in a pretty diverse neighborhood so we had a lot of different religions around,"

"They do say it's the city that never sleeps," He mused.

"Something always seemed to be going on. Buffalo too, to a lesser extent. That’s were I wen to college upstate,” After a beat of silence she switched topics.

“I took a self defense class when I was home on break once. There was a studio offering a women-only class uptown,"

"Did you ever wind up needing to use them?"

"No, I was pretty fortunate that way. And at home I was always with my brother or friends so no one really bothered me,"

"So you gotta be a little rusty then. I want you to show me what you learned when we get inside," He instructed. "I want to see what I'm working with,"

"I think you've seen what you're working with," She teased, running a hand up his thigh as they pulled into the precinct parking lot.

"You really are trouble," He sighed, cutting the engine and ignoring the pressure building. "Save that for later, we got work to do,"

"You love it," She whispered, pulling him into a kiss by the collar of his jacket. She leaned over the seat to reach him better. Her hands wandered down his chest before settling near the fly of his jeans. Before she could go any further he ran his hand over the polyester covering her ass and gave her a quick smack.

"That's enough," He murmured, his voice pitching low enough to send vibrations through his chest. "Let's get inside, we've got a lot to cover,"

She smiled at him and touched her nose to his before climbing out the passengers side. They walked quickly into the station, getting out of the frigid morning air. The buzz of the fluorescent lights hummed above them as they walked down the deserted halls. Flip explained that the station wasn't as busy on Sunday's, especially first thing in the morning. A lot of the guys were at church or home with their families. Who was left was mostly newbies scattered between the office and patrol duty.

He led her to a room near the back of the station, holding the door open for her before flicking on the light. It was a mid-sized room with a few mats on the floor and a punching bag hanging in the corner.

"It's not much, but it's useful to brush up on stuff from time to time," He explains.

The musty smell of the room hits his nose and he tries to ignore it. They throw their coats by the door and walk to the center of the room.

"So what's first, coach?" Elle asked, pulling her curls out of her face with a hair tie. They settled in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, remaining as unruly as always.

"First, tell me what you know," He stood in front of her, hands on his hips.

"Well, its mostly ju jitsu," She explained. "It was a lot of using other people's strength to your advantage. Like if someone is trying to punch you you can use that arm to launch yourself away from them,"

"How so?" He was genuinely curious, he hadn't heard of this technique.

"Put your arm out like you're coming at me," She instructed, her body positioning itself for action.

He stood there, unsure of how much force he should use. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her.

"You can just do a slowed down punch if that helps," She offered.

He complied, throwing a gentle punch her way, just far enough away that his fist wouldn't connect. She grabbed his extended wrist with her left hand and put her right hand under his armpit, using his force to propel herself past him. He hadn't fully registered that she was behind him when he felt a nudge on the back of his knees.

"From here I could get a good head start on running away, or I could attack you. Maybe knock out your knees, or kick you in the balls, something that would throw you off," She explained, moving back in front of him while she let her fingers trail across his waist.

"That's good," He praises. Elle was a small woman, she was decently strong but still on the easier side to overpower. She would have a lot better chance to get out of a situation by doing moves like that.

"What else you got?"

"I can fuck up your wrist if you grab me,"

He chuckled, not out of disbelief, but because he loved how she would talk. She had a mouth that would've rivaled anyone in his platoon, but she was much prettier.

"Just grab you?" He asked.

"Yeah, get a good fistful of my shirt, and you don't need to be gentle. I won't be," She winked at him.

He took a breath and stepped toward her, fisting his large hand in the cotton of her t-shirt, right by the collar. She grabbed his wrist and dug it further into her chest at an angle, causing a sharp pain to run up his arm. He let out a surprised grunt and tried to use his other hand to push her away.

"That's enough Elle," He gritted out, and she let go of his arm. He shook it out, letting the pain dull before inspecting his wrist. "What did you do? That fuckin hurt,"

"I compressed your wrist," She explained. "Here, I'll do a slowed down version, I won't hurt you this time,"

He cautiously offered his hand again, which she balled up back into a fist at her collar.

"What I did is I bent your wrist so your palm was against me, and then trapped your hand in my armpit at that angle so you can't move. I then bent your elbow and used my hands at the back of your elbow to drive your wrist into me as I drive my weight down. If I kept going, I could probably break your wrist. Or at least do some damage to the tendons," She broke down the steps for him, moving in slow motion to demonstrate where her hands were going.

He watched in silence and, as promised, she didn't put the pressure on his wrist. When she was done explaining, he let go of her shirt, allowing her to smooth it out.

"That's pretty clever," He told her. "Maybe I'll teach those to the guys. You can never be too safe,"

"You could bring me to the office one day, I could kick everyone's ass," She grinned at him.

"You just might, detectives spend a lot of time behind desks. We could use the exercise," He admitted. "Could I show you some stuff now?"

"Sure, tell me what you know," She crossed her arms and waited for his instruction.

"Do you know how to throw a punch?" He asked.

"I can punch," She said simply.

"But can you throw a punch effectively, there's a difference," He started to explain. "Here, punch me in the chest,"

"You sure?" She seemed unsure of his request.

"Right here," He patted his right pectoral. "Hit me as hard as you can, it's okay,"

She took a breath, focusing on the spot his hand just touched. She bounced back and forth on her toes for a moment, one leg in front of the other. She wound up her right arm, drawing it back before quickly propelling it into his chest.

He let out a small grunt, she let out a louder one. It hurt a little, but her technique was sloppy. She shook her hand as she took it back, her knuckles red from impact.

"That was a good start, but the way you hold your hand is slowing you down and could hurt you more than your target," He took her hand in his, manipulating her fingers.

"Curl all your fingers in like this, it'll protect your joints because they're tucked away. You see how no finger sticks out more than another?" He pulled his hands back so she could see before he continued. "Next, don't tuck in your thumb like you did before , keep it under your knuckles out of the way. But don't hold it there too tight, you could fuck up your wrist on impact,”

"Now, when you're throwing your punch, keep it fluid. Anything too jerky or tight isn't as effective. Now you take your first two fingers and push those further forward. They're stronger, they'll lead the punch," he showed her with his hand how to bring the index and middle finger ever slightly forward in the first. She mimicked his movement.

"Now I want you to hit me again, but this time, as soon as you connect, bring your arm back to your body. It keeps you out of my reach, and it's easier for you to strike me again if needed," He patted the same part of his chest as before.

She nodded and got into position, she took a moment to flex her muscles in her arms, getting them ready. She threw the punch quickly, it landing with much more force than before. He braced himself by throwing a foot back, and she brought her arm back as quickly as it shot out. It hurt that time, the technique giving her more force.

"Better. Much better," He complimented, voice slightly strained.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her facial expression shifting to one of worry.

"I'm fine, it's supposed to hurt. Next time you throw one of those, go for the throat or the nose. It'll hurt a lot more,"

"Can do coach," She nodded. "Have you got anything else?"

They ran though a few more basic techniques. He had her throw some kicks at the punching bag, and teaching her to break out of a tackle. The latter eventually turned into a tickle fight, with Flip running his fingers under her shirt and along her waist until she was gasping from laughter.

"Flip! Quit it! I give up!" She yelled breathlessly, both of them laughing until it hurt their stomachs.

They barely heard the door to the gym open until a voice broke them out of their play fight.

"Well what do we have here?" An excited voice inquired.

Flip looked up to see officer Landers towering over the two of them, a sly smile covering his greasy face.

"Zimmerman, are you smuggling girls into the precinct? I hope you brought enough to share with the class,"

"She's allowed to be here, I'm teaching her self defense," He stated firmly, he was in no mood for the officers shit. And was definitely not in the mood to share.

"If thats what self defense classes look like, I might have to sign up for one. Are you free for another session after this?" Landers asked Elle, who looked ready for murder.

"If you don't mind being a punching bag," She shot back, her voice barely holding back any venom.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?" Flip asked his coworker.

"Mmmm not at the moment, just got off shift. Maybe I'll stick around and watch the lesson," He leered.

"I think we were just finishing up, actually," Elle removed herself from under him, brushing past Landers to retrieve her jacket.

"Oh I won't be any bother sweetheart. I'll wait my turn," Landers called after her.

He got up soon after, following her lead, his coworker trailing behind. He threw on his jacket, catching up to Elle and putting a hand around her waist protectively. Landers called a few more things after them that they pretended they couldn't hear. He quickly got tired and went off in the other direction laughing to himself.

"Is it illegal to assault an officer if he's a creep?" She asked him, letting him continue to hold her as they walked.

"Yeah, unfortunately. Don't mind him, he's mostly harmless," He told her.

"Mostly? You know what? Forget it, I don't want to know, it'll just make me angry," She shook her head.

"So do you feel like you'll be able to do something like what I taught you if you were in trouble?" He asked.

"Yeah, that was helpful. Thanks babe," She looped an arm around him as well. She opened her mouth as if she were to say more but then closed it. They walked in silence to the car, climbing and settling in.

“Where to now?” He asked. “Home to practice under the covers?”

“You’re insatiable,” She swatted at him, grinning from ear to ear. “Maybe the diner first? That workout got me pretty hungry,”

“Diner it is,” He smiled.

He turned on the engine and pulled out of the Lot, taking the route through town. He turned the radio on and let her fiddle with the dial to find a station. She finally settled on a song with screeching guitars and thundering drums.

"Oh I love this one!" She exclaimed, turning it up.

"What is this?" He asked, slightly jarred by the loud music so early in the day. It was only noon after all.

"Led Zeppelin, you haven't heard of them yet?" She asked. He shook his head and she laughed. "Do you live under a rock?"

"You've seen where I live, thank you very much," He sasses. "I didn't take you for the rock and roll type,"

"I don't think I have a type with music, I just like it all," She says. "My brother was just telling me the other day that he's getting into Led Zeppelin, he saw them in concert a few months ago with some friends. Said it was the most fun he's ever had,"

"Are you sure he hasn't gone deaf since? I bet those guitars are no joke in person,"

"You're just an old man," She teased. "He's doing fine, for the most part. A week ago he was at the bar with a friend and the police raided it. It was a gay bar, and the police aren't too friendly with the patrons there,"

“Is he—” Flip began to ask.

“Yeah. Alex is gay, not that my family knows. I only found out by accident really, ran into him and his ‘friend’ one night,”

He sat listening, knowing he couldn't offer much to the conversation.

"He's of age, and knows he should be able to have a drink where's he's comfortable. He refused to leave and an officer punched him and dragged him outside with the friend. And it's not like he can report it to the police, because it's the NYPD who assaulted him in the first place. He had to tell mom and dad that he got it from a mugging and now they dont want him going out anymore,"

"Is he okay?" He asks, not knowing what else to ask. He felt ashamed that someone would do that, someone who he shared a job with.

"He's fine, just pissed. Like, so many of these gay kids are coming to the city because it's like a safe haven for them. Gets them out of their white picket fence suburbs. But they still can't really be themselves. My brother isn't hurting anyone with how he's living his life, and yet he can't even get a beer without being assaulted," She was getting angry, her voice raising as she continued to speak.

"I don't even want to think about what would happen if he lives in a town like this, with an active KKK chapter. Gay and Jewish? What kind of life would that be for him here? Part of me wants to tell him to just come live with me, get a break from our parents, but the other part knows he wouldn't be any better off here,"

“You sound like you miss him,” Flip noted.

“I do. But I’m not gonna have the money to go back home for a while. I spent a lot on the move here, even after selling all my furniture and getting cheap stuff here I’m still struggling to get my savings in order. It’s gonna be a while before I can see him in person again,”

“You’ll get there, I’m sure he understands,” He took a hand off the wheel to rub her shoulder in assurance. “I could teach him how to shoot a gun or something, if he ever comes out here,”

“Phillip Zimmerman don’t you dare,” Elle laughed at the thought. “The last thing I need is my baby brother running around the city with that knowledge. I think my mother would faint,”

“I think you’ve done far more that would make your mother faint. Does Mrs. Blum know about your long list of rebellion?”

“What mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Her lips twisted into a sly smile.

“You’re trouble,” He murmured lovingly as they pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

“I’m your trouble,” She shot back as the two of them climbed out of the car.

She reached for his hand as they walked toward the chrome plated building, he gladly took hers.

“My trouble” He thought to himself with a smile. “Absolutely worth it,”

—————-

NOTES

Did you know that jiu jitsu was used by first wave feminists as a self defense technique? And that self-defense classes became more popular with women in the 1970s and 1980s? With Elle being a N.O.W. member, I would assume she’d take at least a class or two.

The 1972 presidential election was fascinating for a number of reasons. Nixon using the war as a way to get reelected, the beginning of the watergate scandal, McGovern’s vice presidential candidate having to drop out because of a mental health scandal. It was a whole mess!

The American Psychiatric Association didn’t remove homosexuality from it’s list of psychiatric disorders until 1973. The Rainbow flag won’t be created for another 6 years.

Taglist: @ladygrey03​ @tinydancer40

#a reason to believe #artb #ARTBmasterlist #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x oc #flip x reader #flip x oc

[soulairee]

Fruition

Summary: SasuSaku and NaruHina. One-shot. Soccer AU. "B-but that's your woman, teme!" Naruto splutters. "Shouldn't you defend her honor or something? Those bastards are nearly salivating over her!" "Let them salivate all they want," Sasuke replies, smug. "I can't blame them." Such is the life of young, beautiful soccer players and their supportive boyfriends.

You can read this story on AO3 here and Fanfiction.net here.

____________________________

“Oi, teme! Over here!”

Sasuke briefly closes his eyes and counts to ten before turning in the direction of his best friend’s booming voice. The blond is waving at him in the VIP section several rows down. He’s visibly tipsy already, cheeks flushed as he leans over his chair and spills popcorn over the laps of innocent bystanders in the row behind him.

“I can see you!” Sasuke snaps, beginning to make his way down. “Watch your hands, idiot. You’re getting food everywhere.”

Naruto belatedly realizes the mess he’s made and proceeds to sheepishly apologize to the people behind him. They glare and mutter to themselves but otherwise don’t seem too perturbed.

Once he’s joined the blond, Sasuke nods his head in greeting at the line of men on Naruto’s other side—Neji, Sai, and Shikamaru, to name a few—then makes himself comfortable. After a moment of contemplation, he unzips his jacket and tosses it over the back of his chair before settling in; for one, because it is a bit warmer out than he thought it would be, and two because he secretly loves showing off his jersey. It’s Japan’s standard women’s soccer jersey—navy blue (his favorite color) with three white stripes on each sleeve. His has the number seven written in bold, and, most importantly, the name Haruno emblazoned brightly across the back. 

(He’s never been so proud to own a piece of clothing in his life.)

“I can’t sit still for shit,” Naruto tells him, nearly shaking with anticipation beside him. “It’s almost like I’m the one about to play, yanno? I can’t imagine what the girls must be feeling right now.”

“They’re probably a lot calmer than you, dumbass,” Sasuke retorts easily, but it’s half-hearted at best. His own nerves have had the best of him ever since Sakura left his place earlier that morning. He feels jittery, pumped full of adrenaline. Even though he’s not the one who trained day after day for the last nineteen years of his life to make it here, it truly does almost feel like it’s his game that’s about to start. He thinks the fact that he’s been by Sakura’s side for nearly as long and gone to every single one of her games since he met her also has something to do with it. 

“I still can’t believe they made it,” Naruto continues as if the Uchiha never spoke. “I mean, I do, of course. It’s our girls after all, but holy shit this is unreal.”

Sasuke can’t help but agree. This is the largest stage their team has ever played on—figuratively if not literally, and just a few years ago it seemed like a far-off dream to the team members and the rest of the country alike. Japan’s women’s national soccer team has never made it to the FIFA Women’s World Cup finals before, and while they performed increasingly well over the last decade they still weren’t quite up to par.

That was, however, before three young, talented players from Tokyo University’s women’s soccer team were drafted three years ago. They’ve been unstoppable ever since. 

“Fuck fuck fuck I’m so nervous.” Naruto’s right leg bounces up and down, shaking the entire bench.

Sasuke’s just about to make a scathing remark to make him stop when Sai beats him to it and comments, “The game doesn’t even start for another hour, Dickless.”

“I know that, dumbass. I always just get so excited and—HEY GUYS LOOK IT’S HINATA! HINATAAAA! Oiiiiii! Over here!”

Sasuke winces, solemnly thinking he may have to get his hearing checked when this is over, while the blond leans over the railing and flails like an idiot, trying to get his girlfriend’s attention. 

“They’re warming up, dobe,” Sasuke mutters. “Let her focus.”

He says this even as his eyes flash from player to player until he sees a familiar, bright beacon of pink hair, and he can’t help the upturned corners of his lips as he takes her in.

Haruno Sakura walks onto the field like she owns it—all five foot four inches of her confident and comfortable, as if she were born to play. She’s walking beside her best friend and the team’s star forward, Yamanaka Ino, smiling and laughing as they pass a ball between them. Her green eyes are full of fire, back straight and proud. Sasuke doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of seeing her in her element.

True to Naruto’s incessant screaming, Hyuuga Hinata—the most reliable sweeper he’s ever seen and a monster of a defensive player, fascinatingly at odds with her naturally shy and soft-spoken nature—is walking on the right side of the group, closest to where they’re seated. Her head whips around and Sasuke can see her blush even at a distance as she waves back. 

“I LOVE YOU, HYUUGA HINATA!” Sasuke curses himself for not buying those ear plugs he saw yesterday. The blond’s voice could surely cause an avalanche at this point. “You’re gonna do great!! Go kick some ass, dattebayo!”

Hinata’s red as a tomato. Her teammates laugh and pat her on the back, but the smile she tries to hide with a curtain of her hair is undeniably happy. 

“Oi! Uzumaki!” 

Their entire row of friends stiffen at once and gulp deeply, wholly fearful of the blonde lady stalking toward them on the field, murder in her eyes.

“If my strongest defensive player faints because of your idiotic ass again,” snarls Senju Tsunade, the team’s head coach and also the boys’ worst nightmare, “I will rip your dick off and shove it so far up your ass you’ll taste it in the back of your throat. Now shut the fuck up and let her do what she does best.” She’s glaring at him from below, and with a crack of her knuckles she finishes, “Are we clear, Uzumaki?”

Naruto lets out a meek, “Clear,” and it’s only when Tsunade’s moved away that they can finally relax.

“Jesus fuck, she’s terrifying,” Kiba whispers, and they all nod in agreement. Tsunade is a stern coach but she treats her players with the utmost care and consideration—which consequently involves her threatening the lives of anyone who messes with her girls.

A sudden increase in noise throughout the stadium draws Sasuke’s attention. The crowd has begun cheering enthusiastically, and Sasuke’s confused for a moment before he sweeps his gaze across the stadium and realizes what it is that has them so excited. 

They’re playing a video on the jumbo screens—a clip of the post-game interviews from Japan’s semi-finals match against South Korea, which ended with a brutal score of 5-0. Sakura scored three of the five goals, further solidifying her spot as the team’s ace player and earning her an MVP title. 

And it’s Sakura, it seems, who has captured the audience’s attention so raptly. Her interview is currently showing on the screen, and she’s radiant. 

Sakura answers the reporter’s questions with a beaming smile, sweat glistening on her face and neck, green eyes exhausted yet bright with energy. She makes a stunning picture, as Sasuke and the entire Japanese crowd seem to recognize. It’s obvious that she’s a fan favorite—young, naturally beautiful, and quite honestly the most talented midfielder in the whole tournament. Sakura flashes the camera her trademark toothy grin and throws up a peace sign before the TV screen switches to a commercial.

A few male voices sound especially loud behind Sasuke’s left shoulder, yelling and chanting her name—a roar of “Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan!”—and he glances back at the group of ten or so men responsible for the noise before crossing his arms over his chest and settling back into his seat with a smug curve of his lips. 

Beside him, Naruto stiffens and turns to fix the men with an icy glare. Pointing a furious finger, he barks, “Oi! That’s Haruno-san to you, you hear me! Don’t be calling her so familiarly, you bastards!”

Sasuke hears the offending group grumble and grow silent. “Leave them be, Naruto,” he says, watching as the source of their affections practices one-touch shots on the goal below. She’s light on her feet, following through the shots with a clean arc of her foot. 

Naruto splutters indignantly. “B-but—that’s your woman, teme. Shouldn’t you defend her honor or something? Those bastards are nearly salivating over her!”

Almost as if sensing that they’re speaking about her, Sakura turns her head in their direction. She searches the crowd for a moment before spotting them, then smiles and waves a hand. Her smile grows soft when she locks eyes with Sasuke. Cheesily she makes a heart with her hands, beaming as she holds it out to him, and he can’t help but chuckle quietly at her antics.

“Let them salivate all they want,” Sasuke replies, content with the attention she’s shown him. “I don’t blame them.” 

If this happened three years ago, he might have had a different reaction. At the start of Sakura’s professional soccer career Sasuke found himself playing the part of the jealous boyfriend far too often. He was not a stranger to her receiving male attention before and was always certain of her loyalty to him, but finding an increasing number of random men wearing her jersey at their games was hard for him to handle at first. Not to mention the fact that many of her male fans flirted with her every chance they got, and Sakura was honestly too kind—and oblivious, he noted—to reject their advances with any real gusto.

The advances only grew in number and fervor as time went on, especially when she became part of the starting line-up at the young age of twenty-two. It was around that time that Sasuke decided once and for all that his jealousy was irrational. He would only become more and more frustrated as time went on, after all, and in reality—underneath all his possessive instincts—he was proud of the attention she was receiving. Sakura was the hardest working person he knew and she deserved to be showered with endless support more than anyone. He wouldn’t let his jealousy take that away from her.

And besides, Sasuke thinks, eyes never leaving her as she continues warming up, he’s the one whose arms she falls asleep in every night. He’s the one she’s loved since they were kids, the one who’s been by her side through thick and thin. 

These men can cheer for her all they want—it’ll never change the fact that Uchiha Sasuke is Haruno Sakura’s biggest fan. 

He’s also, he thinks as he brushes his hand against the velvet box resting in his pants pocket, hopefully her soon-to-be fiance. He fully plans to propose to her after the game today, winning team be damned. 

(He has the utmost faith in Japan’s victory, though. He can feel it in his bones.)

For now, however, Sasuke makes himself comfortable in his chair. He orders himself a beer, makes casual conversation with the other proud men beside him, and waits for the game to start.

____________________________

“Gather ‘round, girls! Let’s go!”

Any whispers that might’ve lingered in the group die down at Tenten’s shout. Silent and serious, they group up around their team captain, watching her intently.

Tenten fixes them each with a level stare before finally breaking the tension by saying, “We have worked hard to be here, ladies. Each and every one of us has earned the right to be on this field time and time again.”

There’s a hushed agreement from the girls. Heads nod, smiles flash. Excitement is tangible in the air, energy vibrating between them. 

“No matter the outcome of this game, know that I am proud of you.” Tenten’s voice rings with sincerity, loud and commanding. “This country is proud of you. We are the first Japanese team to make it to the World Cup finals, and that in itself is an incredible feat.”

A few girls whoop at this, a few others clap. Several shift back and forth on their feet, needing some form of movement to channel their mixed nervousness and exhilaration into. 

“This might very well be the most important game of our lives. I know what you’re all capable of—what we as a team are capable of—so let’s show the world who we are.” 

Then Tenten grins, hungry and eager. “Let’s kick some ass, ladies. We’ve got a World Cup to win.”

Tenten yells a hearty “Hands in!” over the sound of their cheers. They bring their hands in together, break, and after winning the coin toss they’re spilling onto the field, thrumming with excitement.

Haruno Sakura allows herself to bask in the cheering of the crowd as she steps into position at the center mark. The sound fills her with adrenaline, sends fire coursing through her veins. The smell of turf wafts through her nostrils and the sun blazes overhead. Being on the field is a delicious feeling, one she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of. 

Sakura positions the ball at her feet and turns to gaze at her teammates around her, almost in disbelief that they’ve made it this far. Ino’s at her usual post as left forward, jumping from foot to foot to keep her blood flowing. As their striker, she’s undeniably the quickest on the team—Sakura’s never seen a sight more beautiful than Ino sprinting downfield, her long blonde hair flying behind her as she outruns their opponents.   

“Don’t screw up, Forehead!” Ino calls. The blonde grins evilly and winks, causing Sakura to laugh.

“Over my dead body, Ino-pig,” Sakura growls back. Their familiar banter always soothes her nerves before a game. They’ve been friends and teammates since they were six years old, and together they make one hell of an offensive duo. 

Opposite Ino stands Sabaku no Temari, one of the older players with a feisty attitude. Sakura can say this because she’s seen the woman whip her husband, Nara Shikamaru, into place more times than she can count.

Past the three ladies who make up the rest of Sakura’s midfielders and at the very back of the four-man defensive team stands Hyuuga Hinata. She’s quite possibly the sweetest human alive and an absolutely unbreakable wall on the field. Truly, the amount of goals Hinata has let past her is insanely low. As the sweeper she’s the last line of defense before the goalie—her role is crucial to their team, and she never fails to impress Sakura with her ability to halt even the sneakiest, most talented forwards in their tracks. 

Rounding up their team is Hyuuga Tenten—their resident goalie and also the team’s oldest player at the ripe age of thirty-two. One of the most passionate players Sakura’s ever seen, Tenten has earned her spot as their team captain through countless years of dedication and hard work. Her love for the sport shows in everything she does, and Sakura couldn’t ask for a better woman to lead them.

The referee calls first for the opponent’s goalie, then for Tenten, who throws up a hand to signal that she’s ready.

And in the few split seconds before the game starts, Sakura looks into the crowd and finds her gaze locked with a pair of dark, heated eyes. Their owner sits in the very front row next to the field, gazing at her intensely. He has his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread, and Sakura feels any trace of doubt and anxiety left within her drain away as she takes him in.

Uchiha Sasuke is her lucky charm, her rock, and he damn well knows it. He is also without a doubt the man she plans to spend the rest of her life with. He’s been to every single one of her games, believed in her when no one else did, hugged her while she cried and told her she was amazing even when she was at her lowest and wanted nothing more than to give up. 

Sakura thinks of him, and she thinks of the game ahead of her, of the blood and sweat and tears that have led to this moment. With her team behind her and the love of her life supporting her in the crowd, she truly feels invincible. 

She sees Sasuke’s lips tilt into a small smile just as the ref brings the whistle to his mouth in the corner of her eye. Sasuke nods at her, a simple gesture that only she can read: you’ve got this, it says. You’re going to do amazing. Believe in yourself. I love you.

Sakura can’t restrain her answering smile as she nods back at him. She takes a deep breath, feeling the energy of the crowd around her, the passion of her teammates. The sun warms her from head to toe and she thinks that she’s never been more ready for anything in her life.

Sakura shifts into position. The world seems to hold its breath for a moment, waiting— 

Then finally the whistle is blown, and the game begins.

#sasusaku #naruhina #naruto #soccer au #fanfiction #naruto fanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #soulaire fiction

[revivedandabandonedkids]

The Portrait of Afuro Terumi (01~05)

! Double Gods

! Unfinished 

-

01.

There's a long corridor in the deep of the mansion, and a giant room at the end of it that Father tells Hiroto to keep away from.

"Why?" He asks whenever he catches a rare chance to occupy Father's time.

The answers are different every time.

"There's a cool draft seeping through. You might catch a cold."

"There's nothing at the other end to entertain you with."

"It's a dusty dusty room. You might catch a cough."

None of them are convincing enough.

He turns to Hitomiko-nee-san once to see if he can get a more satisfactory explanation, but his sister merely rolls her eyes and say. "It's because the hall is haunted. Duh."

Hiroto can't tell if she's trying scare him off or if she's just tired of trying to come up with an excuse, but the answer sends shivers down his spine.

"Have you ever been?"

She scoffs. "Of course not. Father told us to stay out for a reason."

She's a goodie-two-shoes like that.

So Hiroto asks on.

"You might get lost in the dark."

"The door is locked and I've lost the key."

It's obvious that with the older he gets, the less patience Father has for the question. The answers turn short and clipped, when eventually it turns into a single-

"Just keep away."

And then he stops talking to Father altogether.

-

02.

His curiosity stays unquenched.

-

03.

It's easy to get bored inside the mansion.

It doesn't matter how ridiculously large a house is, once you get used to the bounds, the place settles in a quiet thrum of mundaneness, and Hiroto's spent years trapped within those walls.

It's ridiculous, how the mansion's settled on a mountain. Isn't it awfully inconvenient to get to society? Maybe the land's cheaper on the mountains, but it's not like his family lacks money, so what's the excuse there, Father?

The Kira mansion looks like one of those CGI layered Haunted House In The Deep Of The Woods On A Stormy Night in horror movies. Clearly the best place to raise your children.

Hiroto used to freak out at night when the shadows stretched too long on the ceiling and the air conditioner whirred too loudly in his spacey room, but as he grew, the fear started altering into gaping loneliness. Then even that was gone, and all that was left was emptiness.

It's a miracle that he hasn't developed some sort of emotional trauma from all the neglect.

Or maybe Hiroto is traumatized, and just doesn't know how to identify it.

He can't wait to be old enough to get his own place. A place far far far away.

And that's when Hiroto gets the first idea of the secrets residing in the house.

When he tells his future escape plans to his friend(?) Haizaki, the dark skinned underclassman only nods thoughtfully and says, “I’d be dying to move out of a cursed house too.”

Hiroto narrows his eyes. “Cursed?” That’s the second time he’s heard that word applied to his residence, but it’s the first time he’s hearing it from an outsider. “What do you mean cursed?”

“There’s a rumor.” Haizaki seems reluctant to answer. “People talk about it all the time: There’s a ghost, or an angry spirit of some sort? Anyway, it supposedly killed a bunch of dudes before finally being sealed inside a secret chamber. I wouldn’t know. I just think your house is creepy.”

Creepy it is. Cursed? Hiroto doesn’t know.

“I think I know what chamber you’re talking about.” Hiroto tells him. Because what other room would be considered as a secret chamber other than the room he’s prevented from entering?

Is that the reason it’s forbidden to him? Because his Father is a superstitious shithead? Why keep living in the house, then?

“Seriously? That chamber exists?” Haizaki’s eyes widen. “That’s freaky.”

“You wanna come see it?” Hiroto offers with a smirk.

Haizaki scoffs. “Because we both know that you don’t have the guts to poke around by yourself.”

Hiroto flushes darkly, trying to uphold some sort of composure as the elder one present. “That’s not- I’m just granting you the chance because you look interested.” So really, Haizaki should be thanking him.

Haizaki guffaws, and it’s a very unattractive voice, mind you. “I’m not risking the chance of getting cursed, rumor or not. You’re on your own, buddy.”

"You still believe in sorcery and witchcraft?" Hiroto taunts. "What a baby."

For once, Haizaki doesn't take the bait like the easily-riled-up dumbass he is, and simply retorts. "Like you're one to talk. You wouldn't be yapping at me to go with you if you weren't afraid of it yourself."

Shit. He actually has a point. Except-

"I'm not afraid." Hiroto narrows his eyes. "The only reason I haven't gone into the room is because Father explicitly told me not to."

"And you listen to him since when?"

Hiroto shuts up. He hates it when other people are right, especially if "other people" is Haizaki.

-

04.

"Why am I not allowed to go in that room?" Hiroto asks. It's been years since he last questioned about it.

"You can't just barge in here whenever you want, Hiroto." His Father has a look of displeasure on his face, probably upset since Hiroto bursted into his home office abruptly without even a knock.

"Tell me why I not allowed in. The truth. Not some half-assed lie."

"I thought you've dropped that childhood nonsense already."

Hiroto feels his throat closing up. His clenched fists shake. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm your father, Hiroto."

Hiroto scowls.

"Hitomiko-nee-san says it's haunted. There's a rumor outside that it's cursed." He says bluntly.

"There's no such thing as ghosts or curses, Hiroto. You're the heir of the Kira company. We don't indulge in fantasies or superstition." His Father furrows his eyebrows condescendingly. "You should know better."

-

05.

And that's why Hiroto's sneaking into the Forbidden Corridor, glaring at the giant door in front of him.

So there is a room here.

Well, that's pretty much a given, since a corridor leading to nowhere would be a pretty idiotic design.

It looks like a fairly plain door. It's wooden and the paint is peeled. From the bright beam of the flashlight on his phone, he can see that there's dust all over the surface of the doorknob. This place hasn't seen any visitors in a long while.

"Listen, I can't stop you if you still want to get cursed, but word of advice: Don't interact with anything. Don't touch anything. Don't respond to any noise. In and out. Higher chance of survival."

It's not like Hiroto needs survival tips from Haizaki Ryouhei. That would most likely increase his chances of getting his soul sucked out of his body or whatever.

The door makes an ominous creak when it cracks open.

It's brighter than he expected. There's a beam of afternoon sunlight spilling through a ceiling window. He turns off the flashlight.

It's an almost empty storage room. That is to say, it would be empty, if not for the enormous life sized painting strung up on the wall to the far side of the room.

It's a portrait of a person. Or maybe an ethereal being. The depicted subject sat regally in the center, with a Greek chiton draping over their slender figure. Long blonde hair the shade of melted sunlight flows down their shoulders, shrouding a pale, fair face with elegant eyebrows arching over striking red eyes and a teasing smile twitching at the edge of their mouth. Between their left fingers is an elegant wine glass, a golden fluid fills it to the brim. The background is a muddled mistiness.

It looks like a very ordinary painting. The frame has little cracks littered all over. Under the frame lays a caption:

Afuro Terumi (????) It is said that this painting brings happiness.

Hiroto snorts. Some cursed room. There's nothing but what looks like a religious painting. Is this what Father is so amendment on keeping Hiroto away from? Does Father even know what's inside this room? Why would he hang a (seemingly expensive) picture where no one could see it?

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Hiroto crosses his arms in front of his chest and tips his chin up in a mock sneer. "They say you're cursed." He says loudly, fixing his gaze on the being portrayed in the center of the canvas- Afuro Terumi, probably. "Well, they say the room is cursed, but you're the only one here, aren't you? What do you say?"

Afuro Terumi's face breaks into a wide smile. "I'd tell you they're right. I am cursed."

-[Next]

Okay just to be clear, this is still some what a wip.

I have most of the plot figured out, and have written about 1/3 of the entire story already, but I have a reputation of not finishing wips. So.

I don't know when the next part will be out yet. Keep a lookout if interested. Ignore this if not.

Bear in mind that this is written at the spur of the moment. I put like 0 effort into this, but still spent a lot of time because typing takes a considerable amount of time oof.

I am not going to apologize for putting 0 effort, because I wrote this piece purely to entertain myself. It's very very self-indulgent. And also because it's just not worth it putting too much heart into my ina eleven stories.

Nothing against the ina eleven fandom. I love this community, I really do, but it gets tiring sometimes and I don't have the energy to fight off bad emotions. I'm only trying to protect myself.

Being a fanfiction writer isn't easy work. I've been writing for roughly six years, and only recently did I come to this realization that as a writer, I don't need to write to please anyone else. It's my own opinion that matters. I write for small fandoms and very rare pairings, so feedback never comes easy. I'm sure other writers can relate. No feedback makes it way too easy to doubt oneself. That had taken a toll on my emotional health in the past, over and over again. Then I decided that I'm done with doubting myself over a hobby. So I no longer ask for comments, because I don't want to set myself up for disappointment.

There had been a time in my life that I thought I would stop writing. At least stop putting my writing online. There's just no motivation for it. But then someone came up to me and told me that they love my stories, that I'd convinced them to ship a rarepair, that they want to try writing now. That changed my mind, and helped shape my mindset the way it is today. I don't need to write for a crowd. I just need to write for myself, and the very few who enjoy my stories as well.

This rant turned out to be more personal than I'd intended, and ended on a happier note than I thought it would. So if you're still here, advice for other struggling writers: find your audience, your support system. Find those who are willing to discuss ideas with you. It gets better from there. ♡

#Inazuma Eleven #inazuma eleven orion #My writing #Kira Hiroto #Afuro Terumi #anyway i'm just throwing this out of my hands thank

[agustdef]

Here & Now - Chapter 11

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Fluff; Chill romance

Word Count: 1,885

Warning: None.

Banner Marker: @dee-ehn​

The moment the clicking sound started up again I slapped my hand against my table, gaining everyone's attention. My eyes narrowed on Lexi, the reason for my sudden annoyance.

"Click it again, Lexi. Do it," I challenged.

Lexi dropped the pen the moment the words left my mouth. Her eyes went wide as she stared back at me, the rest of her body frozen. When she finally glanced around the others were also glaring at her, all of us tired of her incessant noise making. She took a chunk of her curly do and used it to cover her face, probably out of embarrassment.

Why she was clicking a pen, no one knew. She wasn't even using it, all her edits were being done via her laptop.

"And I think that means it's time for a break," Alex said, breaking the silence.

Everyone finished what they were working on and then there was a series of cracking bones. It sounded horrid, but it felt so good.

My brain felt like mush as I took a moment away from the chapter I was writing, but I knew it wouldn't last for long. It had just been some time since I'd been able to sit in an environment where everyone was working and I felt like trash if I wasn't productive like them. That was the purpose of our monthly meet-ups. Be around people we like and get work done. Any work. Though most were writing and revising things.

"Can I just burn the whole draft and hope that from its ashes a better one will emerge?" Max asked.

Goodness, how I wished that writing worked like that.

"If you manage to figure out which kind of magic allows for that please share with the group," said Spencer, whose voice was muffled by his hands.

Alex, who'd disappeared after announcing break, returned with everyone's chosen beverage. When she sat down my hot chocolate I almost downed half the drink before I felt the burn. I needed the placebo effect it had on me and my energy levels.

"Or you could write it and stop switching to that secret tab for that convention you keep saying you're not going to," Alex said.

Max gasped, hand against their chest in a dramatic fashion. It got a laugh out of everyone. We knew they'd been doing that for weeks now, claiming that they couldn't spend any more money and it was a waste. Yet, if you ever glanced at their screen the webpage would be right there, the mouse hovering over the buy tickets button.

"At least I wasn't switching between my draft and six other tabs, like someone I know." Max's gaze fell on me.

I scoffed, waving them off. "I was working thank you very much. I had some writing stuff to do and then some work stuff came to mind. I am allowed to multi-task."

"You had two docs of writing open and one weird looking program open, which I assume was for music. So, what was the second doc for, Kennie? Do share?" Max leaned in closer as they spoke, trying to peek at my screen.

Using my hand I pushed their face away and then darkened my screen so they couldn't see. "Nothing for any of you to know about. When it's time you'll know. I don't need y'all hyping me up and then I end up getting hyper-focused on it. I'm enjoying the carefree nature of writing it without pressure."

"And you don't want Ara to find out," Lexi added.

"And I don't want Ara to find out. So silence all of you." Even though I spoke to the group my gaze fell on Alex.

Her brow raised as she stared me down. "Why? What did I do?"

"You ratted on me last time when she asked you, don't think I forgot."

Like a fish her mouth opened and closed, her face screwing up as she became flustered by my words. I could even see a hint of red peeking underneath her brown skin.

"I... What? Do you expect me to lie to our precious agent? I could never lie to Ara. She's too precious. I refuse this. This is slander," she managed to choke out.

My eyes narrowed on her, though she no longer met them. She was avoiding them and every time she did look into them she quickly looked away.

Leaning in close I made sure she was looking directly at my face. "You sold me out for food."

Again she didn't seem to know what to say, but then she just shrugged. Dropping all attempts to make herself seem pure.

Lexi, Max, and Spencer just watched us and laughed. And then we all just sat in silence for a while, no one interacting unless to show someone a thing on their phone or to ask a random question that just popped into their head.

It was nice.

"I start work again tomorrow," Spencer huffed.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Lexi suddenly sit up. "Didn't your vacation just start?"

He shook his head. "It's already been a week, they go by so quickly. I feel like I just started to relax."

"The one time I got to take a two-week vacation was glorious. I miss working at that company," Max said, joining in on the vacation sadness.

"What are vacations?" Alex asked.

"Seconded," I said.

Without having to look up I knew they were all staring me down.

Max smacked their lips. "Um, ma'am you take them frequently. What do you mean?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my head towards the group. "Ma'am, I haven't had one in months. A few off days do not count."

They were silent and then Max gasped, looking at me with wide eyes. "Wait. Was your birthday the last vacation you had?"

Nodding my head I sat back and released a deep sigh. I didn't mind my constant working, because I had a flexible schedule and off days, but when I sat and thought about it a vacation would have been awesome.

"You need to get it together," Spencer said, while the others hummed in agreement.

Before we could go any further though my phone rang and though the immediate urge was to silence it, the ringer belonged to Marcus. So, sighing I picked it up and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hey. Sorry, Ken, I know now is supposed to be your creative outlet time or whatever it is you called that thing," Marcus rushed out.

"It's fine. We're on a break. What's up?"

"I know we aren't meeting for another round of offer eliminations for a few days, but I wanted to let you know that I got another revised contract for Def Jam, though they haven't made many changes." He didn't sound too enthused about it.

"Okay, just email it to me and I look over it again. I feel like I know what they gave in on and what they're going to ignore."

He sighed. "You're probably thinking the right things."

A small laugh escaped me. I'd shed some of my stress over the decision and found amusement in the way some of the labels were handling my acquirement. Most had no problem giving into my major concerns, but some of them just refused to budge; which made things easier.

"Was that it?" I asked just as my laptop notified me he'd sent it.

"Yeah. Wait, no. Did you finish going over the BigHit contract? I know it was a shock, but I'd prefer we get back to them sooner rather than later. I know I said we have time, but not that much time. It would be best to get it to them quickly so they can give it back."

For a second I froze. I'd had the contract for well over a week and for the last few days had been avoiding it. I couldn't explain why, but I chalked it up to the fear of change and left it at that.

"I..." I paused, chewing on my lip. "I, um finished it two days ago."

"Really?" Marcus asked, sounding shocked.

"Yeah."

There was a brief moment of silence and then I could hear him release a deep exhale. The man knew how to read me. "What's wrong with it?"

I glanced around the coffee shop, avoiding the eyes of my friends who were engaged in their own conversations. Looking at one of them always made me want to spill my guts out and I needn't do that.

But life didn't work how we wanted and Alex raised her brow at me as she stared into my soul and I broke.

I pushed back a stray strand of hair from an attempt at a braided crown and sighed.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with it. Well, okay. There are things wrong with it, but they're small things. Most of it is great and some of it beyond what I would ask in respects to my pay and control over projects outside of the company. Like too good. Like someone has been relaying some of my issues with the other offers to their legal team, and I've only complained to you, Hals, Yoongi with Joon in the room and my mother. And I wouldn't put it past 3 of those people. Or they're magic," I rambled.

"Or, perhaps - going to pitch a wild idea here so be ready - they see your worth and would appreciate working with you," Marcus reasoned.

I knew I was being a tad outlandish with that second claim, but my mind sometimes worked in weird things. Especially things that felt too good to be true and the offer was peak too good to be true.

"Send me the revisions and I'll look them over. And if you want we can go over it together before I send it in. You know I want you to make the best choices for you and if talking it through is necessary we can. I don't want you overthinking and regretting choices later."

Marcus was annoying as hell, but a freaking angel. He knew me well enough to know that sometimes I needed to be coddled. But he also knew when I needed a kick in the ass and how to do it while keeping things professional. Honestly, his professional agent side differed greatly from his personal life chaoticness.

Taking a deep breath I nodded. "Uh, do you have time tomorrow? I should be less weird then and we can do the usual quick run-through before you send it off."

"Yeah. Just email me the attachment and give me time before 2:00 pm for us to meet."

"Okay. Thank you, Marcus. I'll get that right over to you."

"Later," he said and hung up.

Without wasting time I pulled it together, got the email ready, checked my calendar and told him an 11:00 am meeting would work before sending it off.

I went to put down my phone and rejoin the group talking, but then it vibrated. The lock screen showed it was a message from Yoongi in the group chat with Joon.

Why are there pictures of my hands in here? Is this normal? Do you two have this fetish too?

I laughed so hard I snorted.

#min yoongi #yoongi #suga #min suga #original character #oc #sugaxoc #yoongixoc #producer!oc #writer!oc #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Bucky is a janitor working at MIT, he finds Tony holed up in the lab, sick.

Night shift (1 of 2)

Bucky didn't hate his job. There were just a few things that really annoyed him. Like when he had to take over a shift from his colleague unexpectedly and therefore stay longer than usual to clean out the trash cans in the laboratories. At least the labs were almost deserted this late, but unsurprisingly even the brightest of students still made a mess and how they weren't able to put their trash into the trash can instead of right next to it surprised Bucky time and time again. Unsurprising was also the huge amount of beer cans hidden behind a staircase like nobody would find them there. Yeah right, somebody had to pick them up one by one and clean the spilled beer off the floor. Why couldn't they party outside then at least Bucky wouldn't have to scrub the floor.

Bucky was almost done with his round and he only had a few trash cans to empty in the engineering department, which had one advantage that he didn't have the risk of finding some hazardous material in the bins like in the bio or chem departments.  He was ready to call it a day and get home, take off his prosthesis, rub his sore muscles and relax with his cat but apparently his prosthetic arm had other thoughts and decided to clock out early with an unpleasant crack and a clank and then a tiny plink as a screw dropped out of Bucky's sleeve and onto the floor right before the trash can he had been in the process of emptying into his cart followed suit.

His left arm was dangling awkwardly from the elbow joint and Bucky cursed. It wasn't the first time this had happened, he knew that particular screw became loose after a long day at work but he usually tightened it after the work at home and everything was fine. The extra work must have messed it up more than he thought and now the screw was lost under a pile of soda cans, abandoned term paper drafts and granola bar wrappers. And right at the end of his workday too. This was not Bucky's day.

(Watch out for the break!)

After a thorough dig through the trash Bucky found the tiny screw but he soon realized he couldn't do anything with it because he didn't have any tools with him, which he usually kept in his cart, but since this was his colleague's section of campus this was also not his cart and of course his backpack where he kept a small multitool was in the janitors' office in his locker, which was all the way across campus.

There had to be another way. Bucky searched the cart he had but came up with nothing except grease and gunk from spillovers, expected from a cart for trash collecting. Bucky wiped his hand and sat down on the floor and pulled his malfunctioning arm into his lap. He mentally already prepared himself for the walk back to the office. It would add another half an hour to his shift at least and that didn't include tidying the mess he had made spilling the trash and then rummaging through it.

Except he was in the damn engineering department of the best university in the whole country, he'd be damned if he couldn't find a fucking screwdriver around here. He had the keys to all the labs after all and so Bucky got up, tugged his unresponsive left hand into his jacket pocket and started to look around. A few students were still running experiments here and there and he didn't want to bother them, most of them weren't too fond of the cleaning staff and had no hesitation to show it. Bucky looked for an empty lab and soon found one that was dark and deserted. To his surprise, it was unlocked but that wasn't too uncommon, it's the students' problem if their research or experiments get stolen by their classmates, not Bucky's.

He didn't bother turning on the lights, the dim lights from various apparatuses and the monitors that had been left on was enough to guide him around and he really just wanted to find a toolbox and take it with him so he could fix his arm in peace, he didn't want to get caught tinkering in the lab.

A noise made him perk up from where he had been looking through the lower shelves of some cupboards, he had thought he was alone in the lab but that had suspiciously sounded like...sniffling. He got up and walked around the lab tables and sure enough hidden behind some futuristic looking contraption was a student sleeping on his laptop surrounded by energy drink cans both empty and full. Now that Bucky got closer he could clearly hear the soft coughs the other made in his sleep.

A peak on the screen confirmed Bucky's guess that the guy wanted to pull an all-nighter to finish a paper. The title read "Using deep neural networks and sparse autoencoders for high-level feature generation in artificial intelligence" and he had been typing "ffffffff" with his left ear for 159 pages.

Bucky gently nudged his shoulder.

The guy startled awake, leaving a "fffffgjhkkkkkk" on the screen and a very visible keyboard imprint on his cheek before he doubled over into a violent coughing fit.

"Woah, there." Bucky rubbed his back and after several long minutes the coughing turned into wheezing and the guy was able to compose himself, grab an open energy drink and down it in one go after which he took a few long-ish breaths and finally looked up.  He first noticed his messed up document and cursed, then he noticed Bucky standing next to him.

"I'm allowed to be here." He coughed again and a shiver ran through his body. "You can't throw me out, no matter how good looking you are."

"Not really concerned whether you're allowed in here or not, buddy. You look like death warmed over, that's what concerns me." It was true, the guy looked horrible. His skin was paler than it should have been in the blue lighting from the laptop screen and he had deep circle under his eyes, his hair was a mess and he looked like he was going to cough his lungs out again any second. Bucky had also felt how hot the guy was when he had touched his back, he was definitely feverish. "You should be in bed with some Nyquil."

The guy waved at him and turned to his laptop. "'M fine. I need to finish the paper." He moved to open up another can of energy drink but he seemed he had neither the fine motor control nor the strength to do so. "Fuck." He dropped the can on the table and it rolled away knocking over other cans until it came to a rest against a pile of books.

"I came in here looking for something but I'm not going to leave you in that state," Bucky said. "Let me make you a tea or something, I know you folks always got a water kettle hidden somewhere, you always do."

The other swayed slightly, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on the screen in front of him, then he nodded. "Coffee."

Bucky rolled his eyes. At least it was a warm beverage. "Where?" He asked and then went to the corner of the lab the guy nodded towards. The water kettle definitely looked like it had been tampered with and Bucky hoped it wouldn't explode as he set it up. He looked through the cupboard and found several open packages of instant coffee powder as well as a sizeable stash of cup noodles. He prepared both which was tedious with only one hand available and it also meant he had to walk twice after he had finished both the coffee and the cup noodles but the guy looked grateful when he set both in front of him.

"Thanks." He mumbled as he drew in a long waft of coffee aroma, both hands around the mug. "Are you a student here too? Can't be, I'd remember someone as hot as you." The guy asked and Bucky had a to laugh a little.

"Do I look like a student?" He gestured to himself and the other concentrated really hard for a moment before he recognized the janitor uniform Bucky was wearing and with some effort, he squinted at his name tag.

"J. Barnes. So, Mr. Barnes, you don't look like the grumpy guy that usually mopes around here and tries to kick us out?"

Bucky groaned. "Please, I'm Bucky. I'm not old enough to be Mr.ed by college students. I took over a shift from a colleague. Anyway, I'll leave you to your paper, but please don't kill yourself with those energy drinks. I'm not paid enough to clean up a dead body."

Bucky turned to leave, he would need to find a toolkit elsewhere or just swallow the bitter pill and walk to the office, he already wasted a lot of time anyway it mattered little if he wasted more.

"I'm Tony." The student behind him suddenly said. "Maybe I can help you."

Bucky stopped and turned around. "Help with what?"

"You were looking for something." Tony wrapped his arms around himself and sneezed. "And if my deductions are right, there is something wrong with your prosthesis."

Bucky's mouth dropped open for a moment before he composed himself again. "How did you know?"

Tony shrugged, then grinned. "There was talk going around that one of the janitors not only looked incredibly hot but also had a bad-ass metal arm, a Hammer prototype as the rumors go, and you haven't used your left arm at all while preparing the coffee and cup noodles, thanks again by the way. So..." He trailed off and then gestured between them when Bucky didn't say anything. "Engineering problem," he pointed to Bucky, "genius engineering student." He gestured to all of himself. "Come on, get out of that jacket and show me."

Bucky was still too perplexed to say anything.

"I promise I won't steal any tech secrets in case you had to sign an NDA or something, not that Hammer has anything worthwhile to steal." Tony laughed.

Bucky couldn't believe his luck, this guy really was something and so he shrugged out of his jacket and fumbled it off his useless left arm. "Alright, I lost this screw earlier when I lifted a trash can and then my arm just collapsed and let's just say it wasn't a pretty sight and I have to do some additional overtime on top of the stuff I'm already dealing with." Bucky pulled out the tiny screw from his pocket and put it on the table. Tony pushed his books and the laptop aside, causing a bunch of empty cans to tumble to the ground which he didn't seem to care about. He blew his nose and motioned for Bucky to come closer.

"There's gotta be a chair around here, you don't need to stand around."

Bucky settled on one of the other chairs and placed his arm on the desk in front of Tony. "You know if you just give me a screwdriver I can do this myself. I did it a few times already, that thing just comes lose all the time."

"Oh, a recurring problem, interesting. Did you report that?"  Under a few coughs, Tony rolled his chair around and collected a small case from the table that has the futuristic looking apparatus on it.

"Do you know how hard it is to get decent customer support these days? Also, I want to keep the arm and I kinda have a feeling that if I tell them it keeps falling apart on me they will find a new person missing a left arm and give it to them instead."

"Ah... seems like a Hammer thing to do." Tony opened up the case and pulled out a few tiny tools, much more delicate than what Bucky used to use.

"You seem to know a lot about Hammer Industries."

Still sniffling Tony started running his fingers up and down the metal plates on the arm. "Comes with the business... engineering and stuff."

"The screw goes in here." Bucky pointed to the tiny hole at his elbow.

"Yeah I know, but that won't fix your problem of it coming lose all the time now will it?"

Bucky looked flabbergasted and Tony. "You want to repair the whole thing? Can you do that?"

"Can I? Of course, I caaaa- ahchoo" Tony sneezed violently but had the decency to move his face into the crook of his elbow. "That is if I don't die first. Man, this flue is killing me."

"You need to get into bed ASAP."

"Yeah yeah, after this and then the paper and then I need to work on the semester project and then maybe." Tony took one of the tools and inserted it in between the plating and wriggled it around. Bucky got a little scared, but Tony looked like he knew what he was doing.

The metal plate suddenly popped open and Bucky blanched. "Is that supposed to happen?"

"Yep, perfectly normal. It's an access hatch." Tony used a small flashlight to have a better look and poked around in the innards of the arm with a little brush. "You got some gunk in there, aren't you cleaning this regularly?"

"Uh.."

"I guess not. I'll do some rudimentary cleaning but I think you might have to come back so I can get everything polished and oiled. Didn't you notice some other malfunctions? Like loss of motor control?"

Bucky thought about it for a moment. "I guess hand movements get a bit janky sometimes, but I could deal with it. What do you mean I have to come back?"

Tony shrugged. "Can't spend 3 hours doing maintenance when I have to work on a paper too. Okay, see, here's the problem." Tony shone the light into the inner elbow and Bucky had to squint a little to see what he meant. There was a tiny nut stuck in between two cables.

"That's what's supposed to hold the screw." Tony picked it up with a pair of tweezers and then wriggled it into the innards of the elbow, with his other hand he replaced the screw. "That should hold it for longer than a day, but it's still not ideal if it came off once it's going to come off again. This is a fundamental flaw in the design, who allowed this to be tested on humans. It could have caused a lot more damage than just some scattered trash. Imagine if you were carrying something more valuable." Tony huffed. "Incompetent fumblers, all of them."

Without a problem Tony replaced the plate he had removed and Bucky was able to move his arm again. He tested the elbow joint a few times and opened and closed his hand too, everything felt a lot smoother all of a sudden. He hadn't even noticed that the arm was getting less responsive over time, he had just gotten used to it.

"Amazing, I don't know how to thank you." Bucky could hug the guy. He had saved him so much trouble by fixing his arm, but Tony waved him off.

"It was nothing and you already did enough for me." Tony put his tools away and started to devour the almost forgotten cup noodles, which even from Bucky's point of view looked extremely mushy. "I meant it though," Tony said in between slurps and sniffling, "you can come back anytime. I'm here almost every day or night, depending on your perspective." He turned to his laptop and started holding down backspace. "And I'll probably be here all night tonight." He signed and then started coughing again.

Bucky frowned, Tony was sick and he had really come to like the guy and cared for him. "Do you need to finish the paper tonight?"

Tony nodded then rolled his eyes backward and made a grimace before sneezing violently and this time he wasn't so smart to cover his nose and he sneezed right onto the screen of his laptop. Both men made a disgusted noise at the sight.

"I guess I could write an email and ask for a few days more, the professor likes me I think, likes my genius in any case." Tony sniffled pitifully and turned to Bucky, his eyes were watery from all the sneezing and coughing. "You think I should do that?"

"Yes! You probably should have done that hours ago." Bucky said adamantly, but Tony managed a small smile.

"But then you wouldn't have met me." He wriggled his eyebrows in what probably should have been a seductive fashionif it hadn't been interrupted by another sneeze. "You want to know what I'm working on down here, Chappie?"

Bucky didn't know what that had anything to do with it but he was curious what Tony was doing down here. "Yeah, sure, if you write that email after that. Kinda don't want to lose my new-found mechanic to the common cold." Bucky scooted a little closer, assuming Tony wanted to show him something on his laptop. "I'm not that smart though, so maybe you need to dumb it down."

Tony just grinned and pressed a few buttons and a small application popped up with the letters J.A.R.V.I.S in white written over a dark blue background, the icon underneath reminded Bucky of HAL9000 only the "eye" was a swirl of blue instead of menacing red.

"Jarvis?" Tony said.

"Yes, Sir?" A distinctively British voice answered from the laptop. Bucky's eyes went wide.

"Please write an email to Professor Stane explaining to him why I need a few more days to finish the paper for his class. Choose an apologetic tone."

"Of course, Sir, how many details do you want me to include?" The voice asked confidently.

"Nothing embarrassing."

"I will not include your close call with death then."

Tony rolled his eyes. "He's so sassy," he whispered to Bucky.

"I have composed a message to Professor Stane, Sir."

"Display it." The email program opened up and showed the formulated message, Bucky was impressed, it already had the address filled out and when he quickly read it he found it included all formalities. He hadn't expected that. He really hadn't known what to expect.

Tony read through the email as well and with a 'Send it' command it disappeared and the email program closed on its own. The whole progress only took a few seconds and Tony hadn't touched the keyboard once.

"Jarvis is an AI I developed. He's going to help me with research and taking over some boring tasks like scheduling or writing emails." Tony gestured to the computer. "What do you think?"

"Holy shit, that was amazing. He's like a real person!" Bucky was really impressed. "I mean, I know about Siri and Alexa but that's a whole step above that."

Tony tsked. "Forget these amateur AI's. I am aiming to have a real personal assistant who thinks independently and actually does work for me. With those others, you need to spend more time on maintenance than you actually save by using them." He shrugged and closed the document with his paper, then shut his laptop down and yawned. "I guess I'm done for tonight."

That reminded Bucky of his own night which wasn't going to come to an end until he cleaned up the mess outside and he groaned "I still have to work to do." He got up and pulled his jacket back on. "I better get going, I hope you get home alright and get better soon. Thanks again for fixing my arm."

"Hey, no problem, it was my pleasure, it's not every day I get to work on a prosthesis prototype." Tony flashed him a dazzling grin, he had relaxed now that the pressure of finishing a paper was gone. Bucky hadn't noticed how handsome the guy was and yeah, maybe he was going to come back not only for some additional maintenance on the arm. He really liked the guy.

They said their good-byes and Bucky returned to the pile of trash in the hallway which unsurprisingly hadn't changed at all, but Bucky finished the work quickly with two arms available and was able to call it a day, or a night rather, after half an hour and go home.

#winteriron #tony x bucky #tony stark #bucky barnes #college au #prompts #jamesprince #Anonymous

[thechaoticwonderland]

I finally have time to write, damn it! I have been MIA for the longest time (and Twitter has been basically my place for word vomit) but I swear I have been trying to write something here -- as proven by my numerous drafted posts. LOL. 😓

If you’ve been following me on Twitter or Instagram, I TURNED TWENTY FOUR a few months back. Yup, I have officially changed my profile every where to 24. I still can’t believe I am THAT old but meh. 

I celebrated my birthday walking dogs and getting drunk around Sheung Wan and Central Hongkong with my boyfriend -- super low key but probably one of the best birthday celebrations ever! 💜 But I’d probably save a different post for that -- WHEN I FIND THE TIME AND ENERGY TO DO SO. (Possibly never, but let’s see lol)

And since I am T W E N T Y F O U R (ack!), I have decided to come up with a blog post on 24 life realizations I have at 24 - some are realizations I’ve had leading up to my 24th but you get my point. 😂

1. Love comes when you least expect it - cliché, I know. But I met my boyfriend at this random birthday party I gate-crashed AKA his 30th birthday. 😁 Long story short, we’ve been going out for over a year now. We both weren’t looking for anything then since he just got out of a toxic relationship, and I was casually going out with random people. But here we are. 😜

2. No need to rush things, do things at your own pace - I started my Masters over 2 years ago, and you’ve guessed it, most of my batch mates have their Masters degree already. 🙆🏾 At some point, I wanted to study full-time cos I’ve gotten envious of my friends. But since my parents are still (yep, I know. Shame on me) paying for my tuition fee, I don’t want to burden them with allowance expenses + my living expenses (If you’re new here, I actually live alone lol) so I need to keep my job. Now I’m 1 subject away from defending my paper! I’m almost there! And it’s actually not bad. 🤗

3. Don’t live beyond your means - Ahh, my dad’s favorite life lesson. I never thought about it then since I was living under my parents’ support, but now that I live alone I have to make ends meet month on month. In layman’s terms IF YOU CAN’T AFFORD IT, JUST DON’T. 

4. Don’t put your eggs in one basket - I know I am not the best person to be all preachy about money (cos I am bad at handling my own finances, but I try) but I have 3 savings accounts in different banks. It comes in handy when one bank fucks shit up (like goes on a nationwide shut down *cough BPI*, or one that just eats up your card and your money from time to time *cough BDO*). 

5. Your past doesn’t define you or how you’d succeed in the future - Another cliché saying, but I swear you get to realize why people say it often. I’ve done so much shit when I was younger but believe me when I say such experiences will help you realize stuff later on. After all, we learn from our mistakes and such mistakes will push us to be better people tomorrow. 

6. Your choices in life are your own, don’t let people tell you otherwise - You will never share the exact same beliefs with everyone, I’m sure about that. Just do you and brush off other opinions, they don’t matter - believe me. 

7. Keep your circle close and small - Your real friends genuinely care, the others are just curious. Be cautious.

8. Always be kind - And this applies to everyone: guards, maids, janitors, etc. Believe me, if you’re nice to everyone, it’s easier to ask for favors. 😜

9. Travel alone - You should try this at least once in your life, me thinks. It gave me a sense of liberty and independence! I did this when I was trying to mend my cracked heart - and I came back to Manila feeling all refreshed and happy. I guess I learned that I don’t need a man to survive! HAHA! 😂

10. Don’t complain, do something about it - Ranting is fine, human nature. But if you will just sit down and whine when something could actually be done, then maybe you should rethink your life choices honey. Instead of wasting your time and energy complaining, why don’t you stop and think? Things and answers won’t always be served to you on a silver platter, FIND WAYS. 😊

11. Don’t forget to remove your make up at the end of the day - PLEASE. Do yourself a favor and let your face breathe! 😛 

12. ALWAYS MOISTURIZE AND PUT SPF - *i-capslock mo para intense!!!* I couldn’t stress this enough. I actually keep various moisturizers depending on the weather, I have intensive moisturizers for when I travel and light ones for the Philippine heat. Just please, never skip it! 

13. One at a time - My boyfriend would always tell me this when I’m stressing over work, school, among other things. It helps, actually. Stop, arrange your thoughts, and do things one at a time. 

12. Treat yourself - Now before you go crazy and tell me that this is a bad thing, I didn’t say you have to buy that expensive bag you’ve been eyeing on for so long because “I DESERVE IT”. Going back to point number 3, if you can’t afford it - IT’S A NO. It can be as simple as “I did a great job today, I deserve good coffee - not my usual pantry coffee”, which is my usual way of treating myself. If you can afford to buy that expensive bag to treat yourself, BY ALL MEANS DO IT. But always remember POINT NUMBER 3!  

13. Family will always come first - Ah, this is one of the many things I realized growing up. Of course I was super excited to grow up so I can go out with my friends whenever I wanted to before. But when I moved out, I always look forward to weekends so I can come home to my family. What a baby, I know right?  

14. Let go and let God - I am not the most religious person in the world, heck I barely even hear mass (I’m busy, but that’s not an excuse I’m sorry). But I really believe in greater power from above. I always find myself in hopeless situations, where I find my shitty ass crying myself to bed on most nights (add that I also live alone so imagine how bad it must be lol). But I usually find myself just getting through the worst days with little miracles. And I always thank God for that. 

15. If you feel so happy with the wrong person, image how happy you’d be with the right one? - Eep, another cliché saying c/o me lol. But seriously, I thought I couldn’t be happy anymore when I once got my heart broken HAHAHA. Cut to mid-last year, I’m extremely happy -- waaay happier than before. Not saying I’m already with the person for me, though I really do hope so (HAHAHA yuck cheese) but I’m happier than before and I’m sure the person I’m with is a better person amongst all the guys I went out with before.

16. Take long walks. - I enjoy this so much especially abroad. I went on a birthday trip in Hong Kong and I spent 70% of the time walking - thinking and reflecting. 😅 I think long peaceful walks are good for everyone’s sanity.

17. Cut off toxic people. -  Not everyone you lose is a loss. If they aren’t doing you good, what’s the use of keeping them? 

18. Life is what you make it. - If you want something to happen, the first step starts with you. 😅 If you don’t take the first step, nothing will happen. SERIOUSLY. Everything doesn’t happen by chance!!!!! 

19. You don’t have to have a reaction on everything. - I believe there are things better left unsaid. I know a lot of people would disagree. But I still think the saying “If you have nothing nice to say, just zip it” is still superior. Lol.

20. Work isn’t everything. - I recently had to stop working for a week and a half due to some health concerns. It sucked balls. But I came to realize work isn’t everything -- YOUR HEALTH (mental health included) IS WAY MORE IMPORTANT.

21. Quite connected to the bullet prior, Work can wait. - I have learned to keep work within working hours. Remember, work will always come and it will never be done. Know what’s most important and prioritize! That’s the key. Whatever’s left can be done tomorrow. You don’t have to spend 12 hours in the office all day and stress out on work, tbh.

22. Choose your battles. - Not everything is worth stressing over. (remember point 19!) 😋

23. Respect begets respect. - Respect opinions, respect people - young and old alike. Sometimes we just have to learn to agree to disagree. 

24. Live life to the fullest. - Another cliché saying, but honestly you’ll never be as young as you are today. Make mistakes so you will never make the same ones in the future, learn the ropes of life through the decisions you make everyday. Not everything will go our way, that’s for sure, but life is only what we make of it. 

I hope you got to pick something up from my blabbing. To be honest, it took me months to finish this list since I barely have time in my hands. Lol. 😬 

I missed you, Tumblr! ✨  

#Filipina Blogger #Filipino Blogger #Adulting #Growing Up #Thoughts #Life Lessons #Work #lovely #Self-love

[katrinawritesthings]

Jonghyun/Taemin; Problematic Fave (Part 4/4); PG

He still has to ask Key what their favorite song is, too. He’s fairly certain that it’s “White T-Shirt,” but it might also be “Orbit,” because “Orbit” is exactly the kind of gay shit Key is into, even if it is a little slow.

ao3

1-2-3-4

Jonghyun,

Hey!! Taeminnie again. I’m on my couch writing this, all snuggly in blankies because Spring still hasn’t made up her mind and it’s raining pretty hard outside. I do love the rain, but I prefer to experience through a window rather than in the middle of it. I’m watching Key’s little pups while they’re at work so they’re up here with me. Key doesn’t like them on the couch but they’re really really warm and what Key doesn’t know won’t hurt them. I’ll send a pic for you to see!

Speaking of Key, they told me that they saw you coming out of a recording studio as they were going in the other day. Honestly, at this point, I think their feelings towards you are more complicated than mine ever were. They’re still mad at you in defense of me from nine months ago, but I think that’s mostly out of spite because I told them that they couldn’t stay mad forever. They also lowkey want to book you again for another shoot, really love your little line of accessories, and are extremely bitter that they like more than three songs on your She Is album. They won’t admit it, but ??????fuck i forgot??????? is their favorite song.

As for me, I think I’ve finally come to a conclusion for my favorite. I know, it’s been, like, three weeks, and I’ve cycled through all of them being my favorite (except “Moon,” and I’ve already explained what was wrong with that one), but I’m serious now. I really think that I like “Dress Up” the most. It feels weird to say that, seeing as how I always liked your softer songs the most, but I can’t deny that “Dress Up” is fun to jam to.

I wanted to tell you again that this comeback of yours has been so good and healing for me. The fun songs, the bright colors, the inherent and blatant queerness of everything, your pink hair…. All of it makes me feel bright and fuzzy on the inside. Before, your stuff would cheer me up just by being gentle and uplifting, but now it cheers me up by making me feel all excited and bouncy and validated. So, thanks for that!

Thank you for letting me love you, too. I know I say it a lot, but it’s just nice to have a fave to think of and love and feel all fuzzy about again. Maybe I’ll get a real romantic datefriend one day and be able to be super gay with them, or maybe I’ll friend marry Key and get all of my emotional fulfillment from that, but until then, it’s nice to draw comfort from you. Thanks for letting me and, really, all of your fans do that. I know it’s kind of part of the job description of being an celeb, but still. It means a lot to a lot of us that you put so much of yourself out there and act as support for us, even from afar.

This is getting kind of long, so I’ll stop here. I know this week is your last week of promotions, so good luck on all of your music shows and I hope you’re having a nice day!!

Love, Lee Taemin ❤

P.S.: If you ever see Key again and they try to give you two dollars, just take it and pretend like you know what it’s for.

Taemin hums to himself as he reads his letter over. That’s a pretty good first draft, he thinks, and he’s pretty sure that his opinion isn’t affected at all by how he’s hanging half upside-down off of the couch and squinting at it on his phone.

Key’s little pupps snooze gently, one in his lap and one nuzzled against his leg. Taemin scrunches his nose. Hmm. Maybe he won’t send Jonghyun a picture of his lower half, even if there are cute dogs in it. That would be kind of weird, he thinks. Maybe he can get Key to--oh, no, he’ll have to scoot them off of the couch before Key comes to pick them up so he doesn’t get in trouble. Dang.

He still has to ask Key what their favorite song is, too. He’s fairly certain that it’s “White T-Shirt,” but it might also be “Orbit,” because “Orbit” is exactly the kind of gay shit Key is into, even if it is a little slow.

Taemin’s left eye scrunches when he reads over the little paragraph about his favorite song. Every time he thinks about “Moon” he feels all gross inside and he should really stop thinking about it, but he just. Wants to passive aggressively remind Jonghyun that it was gross at least one more time in his letters. After this one he’ll start working on forgetting it exists. At least it helps him keep his love for Jonghyun grounded.

“Dress Up,” though. “Dress Up” is good.

The whole comeback is good, and as Temin scans his letter he feels himself warming up inside all over again. A smile cracks open his face, cheeks flushing as pink as Jonghyun’s lovely, lovely, lovely hair. It’s so nice and fun and bouncy and--

“Fuck,” Taemin hisses. He was turning halfway over to smile into his carpet and his legs slipped off of the couch. He crumples gracelessly, grunting softly as he struggles to get his hands under him and push himself up. “God, fuck,” he mutters. Pushing his bangs out of his face, he leans against his couch to just blink for a moment and let the blood rush out of his brain and into the rest of him.

Key’s little pups whine and snuffle at him, Garcons's wet little nose booping his temple. Taemin leans away, then lifts a hand to pet their soft little heads.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he tells them. “Mwah.” He kissies Garcons's little head when he keeps nuzzling at him. The press of his lips seems to calm the pup and Taemin vaguely wonders if that has anything to do with the way Key pulls themself out of anxiety attacks with a million little kissies to who or whatever is nearby. Probably.

Instead of trying to clamber back onto the couch, he slowly slides himself the rest of the way off and rolls to lie on his tummy. Tugging a pillow down from the couch, he holds it under his chin as he finds his phone again. A pup hops down from the couch and wiggles to curl up on his butt; glancing over his shoulder, he finds Comme Des. He lazily reaches behind himself to give him a little pat before he looks back to his phone to finish scanning his letter.

Blah blah blah, blah blah dogs, Key blah blah, songs blah, the comeback makes Taemin’s soul feel alive, blah blah… aha. Taemin reads over the next paragraph with his top lip between his teeth. Hmm. Feels a little repetitive in places. He’ll work on that. The P.S. he has to work on too; he wants it to be in the actual letter and not a P.S. He’ll figure out how to add it in without making it seem too bulky or whatever. Besides that, though….

“I think this is good,” Taemin hums to himself. He lifts the phone up to Garcons on the couch so he can see. “What do you think?” he asks. The little pup sniffs his hand and then licks him. Taemin assumes that means “yes” and gives Garcons a little scritch behind his ears. Then he rolls to his back--apologizing again for disturbing Comme Des and letting him snuggle up under his arm instead--and taps his letter to edit it.

Honestly, he missed how fun this was; just sitting here and editing out his thoughts and feelings. Thinking them over and figuring out exactly what he wants to say is so… calming. Even his first letter back where he sent, like, three pages detailing his entire emotional response to everything was soothing. Since he started writing to Jonghyun again his anxiety has been better than it has in months and he’s been able to reason his worries away almost as well as he could before he even got all hecked up in the first place. He thinks he might start up a diary anyway, in addition to his almost-weekly letters to Jonghyun. It might get him back to where he started.

As he’s deleting a word in the third paragraph, his phone vibrates in his hand with a text from Key. He hums. Now would be a good time to ask about their favorite song, yeah, before he forgets again. He opens the texts of the day and scans them quickly: “good morning egghead,” “I’ll bring you a muffin when I drop the kids off,” “do you think thick stripes or thin stripes look better in plaid,” “one of these days I’m gonna say something important and you’re gonna regret letting my texts pile up,” and “wow okay I know I just said that as a joke but I can not Fucking believe this and u gotta reply rn or I’m gonna call you!!!”

“Hmm,” Taemin hums again. He scrunches his face in confusion. What. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Key use any punctuation in a text, let alone three whole exclamation points. He sits up, resting one elbow on the couch so he can focus better on his phone as he texts back, “Thick stripes and also what’s your favorite song of Jonghyun’s again and also What???”

Taemin isn’t sure if it’s the immediateness of Key’s reply or the contents of it that makes him drop his phone. Either way, he hisses and scrambles to pick it up and confirm that what he thinks he saw is really is what he thought he saw.

It is: Key sent him a picture of them with Jonghyun, like, right next to each other, taking a selfie, together, Key looking huffy and annoyed and Jonghyun smiling gently with one hand kind of blurry in a little wave.

Taemin can’t fucking believe it, either.

“Ohmhy fuc k ign gdo,” he texts back. He is so upset and jealous. What the fuck. This is so unfair. It’s not even that Key is with Jonghyun and he isn’t, or that Key doesn’t appreciate Jonghyun’s loveliness, or even that he’s so far up Jonghyun’s ass again that it burns him up on the inside to not be there; it’s that that morning Key literally offered to take him to work with them and he declined. It’s his own dang fault that he isn’t blushing and smiling and hiding behind Key’s arm with his heart making him all giddy right now.

“I went to a radio station to grab a friend to hang out with and he was here and he says hi,” Key texts him next. Taemin groans quietly and wilts back down to the floor, texting back a single frowny face. Then he throws his arm dramatically over his eyes and whines again. Heck. Hecking fuck. He does not believe. Lifting his arm just enough to see his text, he types “Tell him i’m in the middle of writing a letter to him.”

“I’m not playing back and forth between u two jfc,” is Key’s reply. Taemin huffs, then sighs. Yeah, that’s kind of what he figured they would say. “listen tho he’s trying to give me a free album bc I guess that’s a thing that singers do but I don’t want it so do u want me to tell him to just sign it to you instead,” Key sends next. Taemin gasps this time, suddenly all excited again. He sits up quickly, then grunts and lies back down, pressing his hand to his forehead under his bangs to fight the sudden wooziness. Whoops. Key’s pups nuzzle and whine at him; Taemin doesn’t know if it’s from worry or annoyance at his constant movement.

“Yes pls,” he texts back, and then scoops both dogs up in his arms to snuggle them under his chin. With two soft little fuzzballs against him and the prospect of a bright, shiny, new, signed album coming his way soon, Taemin feels his inside get all warm and fuzzy again very quickly. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life than the fact that he loves his fave and he loves being able to love him.

#jongtae #jonghyun #taemin #key #kibum #pg #honestly i probly shouldve been tagging these as taekey too oh well #taems just : (((((((((((((( bc jonghyun is there and he is not #key gets the album tho and tells jong hes gross but also asks jong to come back for another photoshoot #taem Just Happens to visit that photoshoot #and is v : ))))))))) #he only talks to jong a lil bit and doesnt get all fucked up #and is Incredibly Relieved about that lmao #jong says sorry again also and its all good all around #cf au

[vesperlionheart]

-flailing- NUMBER 4 FOR THE INHERITANCE PROMPTS WITH SAKURA AND A MEDIEVAL FANTASY AU

This is as medieval as I could make it anon :)

The castle would have been impressive back in it’s day, but half a century later it’s little more than an impressive ruin. The landscape is dotted with them, but this ruin is special.

“This would have been yours if the Haruno rule survived,” her father complained, more melodramatic than necessary. 

“You’ve never told me that before,” Sakura teased, grinning up at her father.

He glares down at her front the second floor through the gap in the floor caused by decades of erosion and the natural elements wrecking their usual havoc. “Don’t be smart with me.”

“I have to be smart, otherwise this draft doesn’t get done. I’ve been dragging my feet on this reconstruction thesis for weeks now.”

Her father sat down on the edge of the hole and rested his hands on his knees. “And so you think the smartest thing to do is sleep over inside this drafty castle?”

“It saves me a two hour drive in the morning. Besides, you were the one who got me hooked on camping so you really shouldn’t be complaining.”

“Camping is one thing, but you’re sleeping in a haunted castle miles from the nearest cell phone signal.”

Sakura paused in her sketch and grinned up at her father, smile wicked the way only a child’s smile could be. “Perfect.”

Like half the country, if Sakura followed her ancestry back far enough and stretched it just a little, she could connect herself to a ruling family from the dark ages. Her family was just a bit more eccentric about this legacy all throughout her childhood. She knew more than the average kid when it came to ancient clans, blood fudes, and local legends.

She had been cited as a source for several papers and publications detailing local legends. Some of her favorite stories had to do with the cultish knight order the Haruno were feared and persecuted for. That was a story she kept to herself, not because she was embarassed or afraid of the backlash, but because it was hers. Those tales belonged to her and she didn’t want to share them with anyone else.

Sakura made her camp in the lower levels of the castle, best protected by the wind and elements. It was dark with only a shattering of moonlight making its way down to her camp, but Sakura had her own lights to work by.

She flipped open her sketch pad and went to the pages with the armor details. She felt her heart pang for that far off time that lived only in her heart. That was the time she dreamed of most often. She had vivid night dreams about her family legacy and their order of knights, their battles, their struggles, their consumption to black magic, and all the other fun bits in between.

There was a pocket of her journal filled with her notes on the men who made up this order all based off her dreams and further supported with research and investigation. So much had been lost to history, but there were a few accounts to go off.

Sakura turned her light down, getting ready for sleep before looking up at the room around her and then the ring on her middle finger with the Haruno sigil. This might have all been hers in a different time, but for now she was just fine with her dreams.

She didn’t stir even as the moonlight drifted up over her face, her neck, her arm, her hand and fingers. It took the rumblings and the cracking of earth to rouse her from her sleeping bag.

The noise shot her awake and send her bolting for the clearing in the middle of the castle.She skid to a stop, gasping as the walls around her were solid once more, richly decorated and vibrant with the lack of age.

Moonlight made the world around her bright, but it was the holes in the wall, fixing themselves one stone at a time, that made her disbelieve her eyes. Magic?

‘You’re dreaming,’ she told herself, evan as the ground shifted again and sent her smacking into the a newly righted floor. Her jaw throbbed and she held it.

“Not a dream.”

She rolled onto her back and screamed, bringing her hands up to brace for the downwards strike of the raised blade. It stared to come down and she instead rolled out of the way and clawed at the new floor, trying to get upright. Someone was behind her, grabbing her by her hair and yanking her back. She screamed, regretting her decision to camp alone so hard and so fast it made her tear up. She felt her eyes water as she struggled in the hold. Her hand moved on its own, grabbing her switchblade and twisting to stab at the hand that held her. It clanged, metal on metal and another hand reached to grab her blade.

Sakura cut through her hair and rolled free, popping up with more adrenaline than she knew what to do with.

“Hold, man!” a bellowing voice boomed from elsewhere.

Sakura saw there were two slender knights in armor, one of which stood atop the mess of freshly cut hair. A third was coming into the room and there were even more behind him. The one at the head sounded older.

“Who are you?” Sakura hissed, holding up her knife. She felt her heart pound like a hammer. She was way outnumbered now and she thought she might really be killed by a bunch of freaks in a magical castle on her own. What a way to go.

“State your own name, wench,” the one atop her cut hair sneered, reaching for the hilt of his sword as the one opposite held his already drawn weapon up.

“I asked you first,” Sakura yelled, backing up. “You’re trespassing here.”

“There’s no need to name ourselves to a woman who dresses like a man,” the one with his sword already drawn almost stated. His voice made Sakura’s hackles rise. Forget about surviving, she wanted to mess that one up…and the one that made her cut her hair. She was upset about that.

“Hold you sword, remember yourself. You stand before a lady.” The oldest barked before reaching for his helmet.

Sakura braced, not knowing what to expect. Something in the pit of her stomach sunk deep as she recognized him from an impossible dream.

“Kakashi?”

The other knights stiffened.

The man with silver hair and a scar closing one of his eyes smiled through the bottom part of his face mask, worn underneath the helmet. His had been tugged up to cover his mouth and nose, unlike the others that slipped under the chin. Still, she could tell he was smiling. His whole face softened. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard such a familiar name. You know me, yet I know nothing of you.”

“S-Sakura. I…” She looked behind her and saw her sketchbook laying close by from when she tried to run out with it earlier. She reached for it and flipped to the page with his sketch. It wasn’t perfect, she wasn’t skilled with human faces since most of her work was landscape work, but it looked like him. “I’ve seen you before.”

Some of the knights behind him stirred.

“And where did we meet, my lady?” he was staring at the rest of the page where Sasuke was sketched as well.

Sakura felt her face flush, not willing to admit she saw them in her dreams. “Just…around. You’re old though, like from hundreds of years ago. You shouldn’t be alive right now.”  

“We exist outside of time, sleeping and waking on the call of the Haruno. This does not concern us, but we must find our Haruno. Do you know of who we speak?”

Sakura still felt embarassed. Kakashi was speaking to her and he sounded so kind and soft, not like how she expected him to sound. Wasn’t he sort of an ass to the other knights when training them? “P-probably my dad? He’s a Haruno.”

She glanced sideways at the walls that just finished settling into place and looked up to see Kakashi right in her face, close enough to make her want to lean back. He grabbed at her hand and she felt her heart skip from the contact, but he turned her wrist over and his eye widened at the gold ring with the family crest perfectly displayed.

 It had been her birthday gift when she turned seventeen over five years ago. Her father joked about it meaning she was in charge of the family, but now she wasn’t so sure. Even if it was just her and her dad, the ring felt heavier now.

“You are the matriarch,” Kakashi breathed, meeting her eyes with an expression of awe.

Sakura heard the sword clang to the stone floor and behind him, the knights each sank low into a kneel, heads bowed as their helmets came off, one by one. Sakura recognized each of them, Sasuke, Sai, Itachi the black plate knight, Shisui the marble born, and Yamato the green knight, saved from the fay wilds with Haruno magic. They were real and they were in front of her.

“Most esteemed lady,” Kakashi breathed, bending low over her hand and kissing her ring. “We are honored to be in your light. Let our service be your breathing.”

“Wh-what?” Sakura gasped, a bit thrown off by all this.

“We are yours to command.”

[captainvictoryboat]

Behind The Scenes 3 (18/21)

Author’s note: Okay, guys I actually finished my BTS 3 rough draft!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FINALLY! I have been working on this for months, like since I started posting BTS2, I have been writing BTS 3 (yes, that long). Now I just have alot of editing to do, so I still have alot to do. Sorry for any errors and sorry for any cultural and environmental inaccuracies. (if I was inaccurate about anything please correct me, I did my best to try and research some stuff and all, but there is only so much I can grasp)

Genre: Fluff (Jungkook)

Word count: 3934

City: Kuala Lumpar (3rd day)

Summary: Despite y/n’s current mood, she and Jungkook still go out on their “two year anniversary” date. 

Other parts: HERE

This is my GIF. I made it based off of this scenario series.

You lay in bed staring up at the ceiling just listening to the rain hit the large window besides you. The weather in Malaysia seemed to represent how you felt at the moment. Somehow you knew that it was the third day you all were in Kuala Lumpar even though you couldn’t recall anything of the last few days. Ever since Singapore, all you could remember was the feeling of being empty.

In actuality a few things did occur over the past days. You didn’t at all eat, drink or even speak and it terrified the maknaes. The three of them even turned to Jin to try and get some advice from him. Your days had been filled with V, Jimin, and Jungkook taking turns trying to get you to react to something. At night, Jungkook stuck by your side reassuring you that nothing was your fault when it came to the girls, telling you how much he cared for you and how much you meant to everyone. The only times you weren’t in his sight was when he would have to shoo away a drunk Suga that kept coming to your room to try and talk to you. When it came to Suga and Jhope, they were almost as bad as you. Suga wasn’t eating, even in public. He drank at all hours of the day making good use of the flask Jackson got him. He even drank during the concert. He was so drunk during the second Malaysian concert that he almost passed out and he was taken off stage. As a way to not make the fans feel too bad and to not schedule another concert for the next night, V took over Suga’s parts. It was fun for ARMY and things just barely went by smoothly. Jhope was opposite of Suga in terms of energy. He took too many pills and he was starting to go crazy. He was starting to say thing that weren’t making sense. During the performance, he was constantly off beat and slurring his lines and replacing them with random lines and phrases. Rap monster made the decision to have his mike turned off and Jhope was forced to lip sync through most of the concert. Despite all the dancing and running around on the stage he did, he never ran out of energy. After the concert, Rap monster had noticed he was trying to take more pill, pills Jhope nicknamed “happy pills”. Rap monster had to stop him in front of everyone backstage and you all rushed to the hotel so that Rap monster could force him to take some downers and try to even things out. Both Jhope and Suga were put in Minho’s room so that Minho could look after them and Jin had offered to help look after them if they got out of hand.

However, for you this was the first moment in days where you actually felt like you were “coming to”. You continued to watch the heavy rain. After about half an hour, the sun started to break from the clouds and the rain started to lighten up a bit and you yourself couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit better for some reason.

You could feel Jungkook rustling next to you. It took a while but eventually he was “awake”. You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried to block him out and kept looking out the window.

Jungkook got up and propped himself over you, examining you much closer now. “Morning Jagi.” He smiled sweetly in his soft but low morning voice. His fingers gently moved your strands of hair out of your face.

You looked up at him. His hair was sticking up at all angles and you saw a smile grow on his face. He surprised you and he dropped down on you giving you a tight hug. “Finally you look at me.” His voice vibrated into your neck. “Please don’t be sad anymore baby.” He whimpered.

His reaction threw you off. His use of the word “sad” was rather odd when you couldn’t even say “sad” was the correct word to what you were currently feeling. Maybe you were sad and you just didn’t even know because in the moment you were in more so in a daze. But then again, now that it was brought up, “sad” wasn’t exactly the worst word to use. As you filtered your emotions, you lifted your hand up and lazily patted his back. “Jungkook... you’re heavy.” Was all you managed to say.

You knew he was smiling without even having to look at him. “Finally you said something!” he slid his hands under your back and kissed the side of your head. Again, he did something that took you by surprise. He flipped onto his back, bringing you along with him. He kept his hands on your sides to keep you on top of him.

“Is this better?” he asked.

You gave a tiny nod, curling up in his arms, appreciating the effort he was putting in.

For a long moment, he stayed quiet and you were glad he was. You could feel bits and pieces of the last few days rushing through your mind and it was a lot to take in.

You only still lay on his chest hearing his heartbeat while his fingers lightly traced figures on your back. For the first time you felt like you were having a genuine moment with Jungkook, a moment where you were glad you decided to be with him.

“Jagi?” his voice was soft

“Huh?” you grunted.

“Do you feel any better?”

You just shrugged at him.

“Do you want to talk about it? What was it that made you so upset?”

You let out a heavy sigh and sat up, still staying on top of him. “I’m just… I don’t know.” Your voice was weaker than you anticipated now that you actually tried to speak. “Nothing makes sense…” You didn’t realize how hard it was for you to talk.

Jungkook sat up also “How so?”

“These last few days, I think I have just been replaying everything in my head. like trying to see where I went wrong. And I just- I don’t get it. I don’t grasp how anything is really happening, how any of this is actually real… I look back at everything and nothing seems possible… Like Jin, he was so – sweet. Like he was like so chill and understanding and well, like, he’s actually not! He’s like not! He’s a fucking asshole! And he has a kid no less, like how does he even get away with that?!? How does no one know?!? And like what life does that make for Jinjin, you know? And just, ugh, like I just I hate Jin. And then Namjoon... In the beginning, I thought he was the most normal person, but… I don’t know how he is even real! Like how the fuck is he an actual human being?!? Like he is a crazy ass mother fucker and I despise him! I hate him with every ounce of my soul because I am so scared of him… I hate him! I fucking hate him! Absolutely fucking hat-te h-him!” your voice cracked. Jungkook grabbed your hands and pulled you closer. “And then there is you. When you and I first started talking you were cool, but then I really got to know you and you were such a piece of shit!” you said poking his chest aggressively, tears already forming in your eyes. “You were so cold and manipulative and I hated you just as much as I did Jin and Namjoon…”

Jungkook grabbed your hands and brought them to his lips giving them kisses. “Y/n I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You pulled your hands away and wiped your eyes. But then you grabbed his hands again and traced the veins on his arms as if to comfort him from your harsh words. “But knowing you more… you aren’t that bad. Not perfect obviously… but I like you. I actually really like you. You have your good sides… And Jimin, he was an ass with me since the moment he laid his eyes on me, but he goes through s-so much.” Again your weak voice cracked just thinking about Hiro and what he does to Jimin, and how now you were betraying Jimin after what he’s done for you. You still felt horrible. “I really hated the four of you all for a long time. Tae was okay I guess. He’s been nice, but I hated that he always sided with you guys, even when he didn’t want to…” you let out another sigh, letting all the built up anxiety out of you.

Jungkook tried to pull you closer, but you still had more to say. “A-and for the longest time Yoongi and Hoseok were my go to guys. They were the only ones that ever cared about me… They were the only ones th-that made things bearable. I-I thought I knew them, but I don’t! Like how could they do what they did to Aiko and Meihui?!? And, like don’t they care about me? Why do they never have time for me? Don’t I mean something to them? Even now, should they be the ones here with me instead of you? Shouldn’t they be the ones that were happy that I “finally looked at them”? Huh?” As if you were back in Singapore, you began to cry hard. “I don’t know anything anymore! It just doesn’t make sense! Nothing makes sense!”

Jungkook comforted you though your “little” breakdown. He held you tight as he said, “Don’t worry Y/n, I care about you. I care about you so much. You can always come to me.”

You wiped your eyes feeling as though a weight was taken off your shoulders. Again you stayed in his arms and it was the first time in a long while that you felt safe with him. That’s when it hit you. As of right now, Jungkook was the only good thing in your life. And you even had Jimin that you felt you can turn to. Even if it hurt you to hurt Jimin, Jungkook was your only real emotional escape at this point. Maybe if you balanced things out well, you could find a right way to tell Jimin everything one day.

“Y/n, I hate to say this, but I never cancelled the pans I made for the date…”

“You didn’t?”

“No, but don’t worry, we don’t have to go. I don’t give a fuck what Namjoon says.”

“… No, we should go…” you really didn’t want to go, but the last thing you wanted was for Rap monster to get mad.

“No, it’s okay. We can do something else and just say it’s for our “anniversary”.”

“…No… you planned it, we should go…”

Jungkook looked down at you. “Baby, are you sure? You’ve barely been out of the room in days. We really don’t have to do this.”

You grabbed his hand, your thumb gliding over his fingers. “Let’s just go with it. I don’t want to be in any more trouble.”

-

Not even two hours had passed and the intense rains returned and along with it came two stylists. Jungkook had informed you that they were going to help you both get ready for your “anniversary” date.

“Is this really necessary?” you asked nervously.

“Not really, but I had wanted you to feel like a princess today!” He smiled. He went ahead and opened the door for them.

In came the two stylists that had worked on Jungkook and Jimin the last few nights for the concerts. They both held their rain coats and were followed by a bellboy who rolled in a rack of clothes protected by a plastic sheet cover. “Hello!” they both cheered as they made their way into the room.

Jungkook greeted them first. “Hello! Thank you so much for doing this on such short notice. We really appreciate this!”

You came up after him, attempting to hide the depressed feelings that still consumed you. “Hello! Yes, thank you so much!”

The stylist that did Jimin’s makeup was the one to quickly take charge. She removed the plastic covering from the rack to expose about fifteen different dresses, one black suit, and many bags and boxes that were organized under them.

“Ok Damia, what is the game plan?” The second stylist asked.

Damia thought for a moment as she looked between the three of you and the rack of dresses. “Ok first, Jungkook, you go with Zara so she can do your makeup and help up fix your suit. I’ll get started on Y/n and Zara when you are done with him, you can help me with Y/n’s hair.” She said with much determination.

Jungkook walked off with Zara to the bathroom while the bedroom was where you got ready. Damia came up to you and pulled you closer to the rack of dresses. “Ok, so before we do your makeup, you pick out your dress for the night!”

You looked at her a bit in shock. “I-I can choose whichever I want?”

“Yes! Then we can pick out the shoes that match the dress!” she smiled.

You looked through all the dresses, only barely touching a few because they were too precious to be ruined by your hands. You noticed that all dresses were short cut, only barely reaching the knee. It made you a bit upset because you had basically sworn off dresses and skirts ever since Osaka, but the last thing you wanted to do was have a tantrum on Damia, who was being so generous with you, and ruin a night that Jungkook had planned for two of you. You looked at all the dresses and you were mesmerized by their different colors and fabrics and styles. Of all of them, there was one that stood out to you. Your heart was stuck on a cute red dress with thin straps. Compared to the other tight-fit dresses this one looked the most comfortable but just as elegant as the others. “…I like this one…” you said softly, pointing to the dress.

“Oh, that would look so great on you! I know exactly what shoes you can wear to go with it!” From under the dresses Damia rummaged through various shoe boxes before she pulled out a pair. “These would be perfect!” she exclaimed as she pulled out a pair of black heels. “And I know just the earring to go with this too!” Next she pulled out a pair of gold earrings. “Oh, Oh! I just thought of the perfect make up for you! Let’s get started!”

Damia pulled out large boxes from under the clothes and pulled out a portable mirror with lights within the frame and a huge case of makeup. “Don’t worry y/n, I’ll take good care of you!” she said cheerfully.

Damia, in comparison to the other stylist who did your makeup those many months ago, was so gentle and the conversation between the two of you was so pleasant.

Since Jungkook only had one suit to choose from and Zara already knew how to do his makeup, he was done in a flash. He came and sat on the bed and watched as Damia continued with your makeup and Zara began working on your hair.

As Damia worked on your eyes, Jungkook couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer. “Jagi you look so amazing already!”

“Aw, miss y/n has such a cute boyfriend!” Zara grinned.

“Ha, I know!” you smiled warmly.

After finally being done with your makeup, Damia and Zara let you go off and change into your dress. When you stepped inside and got a full look at your face you almost wanted to cry. Damia had done such an amazing job on your makeup and Zara had given you a beautiful updo, even accenting it with a thin gold headband. You couldn’t stop staring at yourself, you felt like a walking art piece.

You carefully put your dress on and once again stood in amazement. Your faded collarbone scar was not enough to break your spirits. You felt more overwhelmed as you slid your heels on. You hadn’t seen yourself look so good in such a long time. There was not a visible bruise on you, your makeup was on point, and magically the dress faltered your body so well.

As you stepped out, Damia and Zara were all giggles over the great work they did and Jungkook was in awe over you.

You deeply thanked both of them, bowing to them and giving them hugs before they started setting up to leave.

You made your way to Jungkook who sat still on the bed. “So, what do you think?” you asked shyly.

“You look… beautiful.” Jungkook finally said. “No! You look more than beautiful. You look stunning… gorgeous… breath taking!”

Your face got hot as Jungkook jumped up from the bed and pulled you close as he continued to throw compliment after sweet compliment at you. “Jungkook stop.” You giggled. “You’re making me so shy right now.”

“Jagi, I can’t help it, you look so amazing.” He whispered.

Before leaving, Damia and Zara walked up to you for one more thing. From behind her back, Zara pulled out a little white box that housed a thin gold chained necklace with a small and simple gold heart pendent. “Don’t worry about returning this little thing, consider it an anniversary present gift from us to you!” Damia smiled.

-

A very nervous Minho navigated the rainy streets of Kuala Lumpar to reach the restaurant. With the help of Jungkook and Google maps, he brought the two of you to the restaurant just in time.

You were about to make a run to the entrance to avoid the rain, when Jungkook pulled you back into the van. It was only after doing a video update and, in a not-so-subtle fashion, giving the restaurant a shout out, did you and Jungkook make a run for the restaurant.

“So that’s how you got us a reservation on such short notice, isn’t it?” you asked as he handed the umbrella to the doorman.

“Well it was either shameless advertising or we were gonna be having this date at a McDonalds!” He laughed.

Reaching the highest floor and opening the door to the restaurant was like walking into a different world, a very elegant world. Even the hostess was dressed so beautifully. Her black dress made her gold hijab and gold jewelry pop out and gave her a simple yet sophisticated look, matching the rest of the restaurant.

Looking past the hostess, you could see the other patrons. They were all gorgeous and their attires equally so. You couldn’t help but immediately feel so underdressed in comparison to the other women who were practically wearing red carpet gowns. Your simple necklace did not compare to the precious metals and rocks the other men and women wore.

Jungkook pulled you close and whispered, “Let’s go to our table.”

You two followed the hostess to a table by the surrounding window that allowed for total view of the city.

You were suddenly self-conscious of your scar and possibly bruises on your back as you felt judging eyes follow you. Still after the hostess left and the waiter took your order, the anxiety didn’t leave you.

“So, what do you think of the place?” Jungkook’s question broke you out of your thoughts.

The waiter returned with the bottle of white wine that Jungkook ordered and your glasses were poured.

“Huh?” you looked about the restaurant again, still feeling eyes on you. “Um, yeah, beautiful, so beautiful...” you trailed off with a slight frown.

“Well I could say the same about you.” he said reaching for your hand across the small table.

You gave him a fake smile.

“What’s wrong?”

You hated that you couldn’t be believable. “… I don’t think I’m dressed right… I feel people staring…” you whispered.

“Well good! People need to see us!”

“But a bad staring!”

Jungkook looked about the restaurant to the people who couldn’t care less about the two of you. “Of course they are staring at you. Look at you! You look… stunning!” He said lovingly.

You could feel your face heat up again and you took a sip of wine to hide your smile. You took a look out the window. The city lights were so beautiful. It all felt like a dream. Jungkook being so sweet, the two of you in such a fancy restaurant, and just being in such a city. “This must be a dream. Hell, I even feel like we are moving right now.” you said softly.

“Baby, we are moving!” He laughed. “That’s the whole sky dining experience! We are slowly rotating to get a 360 view of the city.”

“Oh shit!” you said in wonder.

When the food came out you were amazed by the presentation and every single bite was to die for. Course after course was better than the last.

Over the course of the dinner, you and Jungkook had a bit too much wine, because the two of you were in a buzz by the time you finished dessert. By now he had moved to your side of the table so that both of you could have the same view of the city.

“Hahaha, I don’t know… but this dinner was fantastic! I’m so glad you brought me here.” You said giving his upper arm a hug.

Jungkook gave your hand a squeeze. “And I’m glad you’re having fun.”

Suddenly, the sounds of two cellos filled the dining room and your attention was drawn to the center of the floor. A cello duet began to play Canon and the sounds filled the room ending all conversation and stealing everyone’s attention.

“I love this song.” You mumbled as you swayed along with the movement of the bows.

“Let’s dance then!” Jungkook suggested.

“What?!? No!”

“Yeah, why not? What is music if you can’t dance?”

You laughed “Baby, this is not music you dance to.” You caught yourself by surprise. This was the first time you genuinely call Jungkook by a pet name.

The celloists continued their lovely performance for a few more songs, but sadly they were gone from the room too soon.

“So, what else do you have planned for us tonight?” you asked.

Jungkook frowned and lean in close to you. “Well, unfortunately, I didn’t get to plan anything else because the evil dickhead made me pay for the damages and I didn’t have enough to pay for anything as great as this…”

“Ah ok.”

“But I did tell Minho to drive us around the city. So if there is anywhere you want to stop and visit, we can check it out. Like I said, tonight is just you and me… and a little bit of Minho.” He laughed.

“That sounds fun, but will Minho really do it? He seemed so nervous driving us around… or driving in general… Actually, he’s nervous almost every time I see him. Why is that? Shouldn’t he be used to all this?”

“Eh, Minho is a bit… different. According to Tae, Minho’s got some anxiety issues or something like that and that’s why he didn’t make it as a real nurse.” Jungkook explained.

“Ooh!”

Suddenly, you heard a ring of Jungkook’s phone. “Oh he’s here! Now let’s go take a look around the city!”

Okay, so what do you guys thinks of this whole Y/n and Jungkook and Suga thing so far? Have any of you changed your minds of who she should be with? Do you guys think Suga even actually has any real romantic feelings towards y/n?

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