#if i want to joke about the devils waterfall then by god i will

[emjayart]

Love Between Fairy and Devil

i know this Drama was aired back in 2022, but one thing about me is that i'd rather wait until the drama is completely aired than to wait in agony for the next episode to come and translated (that thing is no joke); i've done watching this show last month and boy was i cursed after this, i saw the cover and title on Netflix and i was like "eeehhh probably just a typical Cdrama, nothing special about it" but then i started to have doubts about my own judgement and decided to watch. oh boy i was wrong.

First, let me give my respect to the screen writers who spent 3 YEARS in writing the scripts, their efforts and hard work paid nicely <3, so does for all the visual effects team, choreograph team, etc for bringing this drama came to life so beautifully.

You can smell the strong chemistry between two leads. great casts!! standing ovation for Wang He Di for his performance!!!

ever since i started to fell in love with Cdrama i have never saw "what great power looks like" you know what i mean? like Ye Hua in TMOPB he was considered the brightest and all that, but the show did not give me any chance to actually witness his power at it's peak, same case with my beloved Hanguan Jun (though i still love him), Wei Ying (almost at a peak if it's not for him to deal with the power biting his butt back).

DongFang QingCang (dfqc) showed up with style, arrogance, domineering, invincible, confidence, that air that makes everybody even the heavenly emperor tucked their tails between their legs when he arrived at that Waterfall Hall to safe xiao lanhua, he summoned lightning and darken the sky, his voice like thunder; even when he was fighting with ChangHeng and his buddy Rong Hao. that HELLFIRE is hella sexy!! I NEVER BEEN THAT HYPED when i see a villain is about to destroy, the music, the visual effect, choreograph for DFQC is superb!! one swing of that man sends ChangHeng the God of War got beaten up like a dough, he was left unscathed, no drop of blood, stand so proudly in front of his opponents, WORTHY OF HIS TITLE, RESPECT AND FEARED. "the only person who can defeat DongFang QingCang is himself" he can easily kill xiao lanhua, but he didn't, yet he opened to the new experience.

i want to talk a lot about this complex character and his development throughout the journey which thumbs up to the Production House to be able to put his whole development as a character fantastically though i hate why you guys left us like that for the last 6 episodes, you can you that 4 more episodes to give us more!!

the are soooooo many scenes that i love, so many comedy in this drama, body swap, but the peak of the comedy is in Human Realm, when ChangHeng & DongFang QingCang became sworn brothers lmao, when DongFang QingCang crawled through dog hole (I'm dead) and so much much.

but the one that hit me the most is when DongFang QingCang mourned for xiao LanHua, guys let me tell you, i watch that episode around 10 pm and watch i think one more episode before i decided i can't take it anymore, i was bawling for hours i'm not even kidding, the fact the DongFang QingCang can't accept her death so he would rather stay in his dream if it means to be with her broke me into pieces. no Cdrama has ever done that to me, not even Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (sorry Ye Hua and Bai Qian), i had that emotional breakdown for almost a week, i lost control over my emotional because of this show lol that i'm afraid to go out fearing i would have a breakdown in public. the effect are too strong on my emotions.

this drama is 11 out of 10!

as i said before, the only downside of the drama is how they did the story for the last 2 or 3 episode, too rushed, i wanted to see Goddess Xi Yun's devotion on nurturing DongFang QingCang's crescent moon spirit! i was so frustrated on how they end things, i want Season 2 of this drama mainly because i wanna see how great GLAZED FIRE is and i want to see that stupid heavenly emperor put to justice because honestly he does not deserved the crown!!!! never.

let's discuss in the comment on what you like and dislike and if i miss-mention something :)

#cang lan jue #xiao lanhua #dongfang qingcang #changheng #ronghao #love between fairy and devil #shuiyuntian #cangyansea #moon supreme #dylan wang #wang hedi #cdrama #chinese #fantasy #xianxia

[noahnopesbest]

Noah catches up with One Piece (post-time skip up to #100): a summary

This is going to be long I’m so sorry

Franky now has light-up nipples? for reasons? (they’re very useful for deep sea communication, apparently)

you know what? Zoro does have a point when he says that Sanji is annoying (I still have a soft spot for the simp cook, though)

Brook is without any doubt my favourite (it’s the bone jokes. the godsawful skeleton puns. also love me a bard, no matter their level of wackyness)

not me tearing up every single time Ace is mentioned, no siree

lots of Law (can’t complain about this), not enough Bepo (this I do complain about)

speaking of Law, the man wears a hat all the time ‘cause his hair is illegal (it looks so fluffy everyone around him would try and ruffle it at any given moment- I know I would)

the average blood-related family has a ratio of 90% blazing garbage fires 10% genuinely good people (notable exceptions: every single royal family the Strawhats have helped so far. also the Boa sisters)

Cora 😭

Doflamingo and Elias Bouchard share the same core energy and no, I won’t elaborate on this

also pls consider: a Magnus Archives/One Piece crossover

Bartolomeo is an absolute muppet. a whole idiot. he’s so cute I can’t even

Sabo ☺️ (for the love of the gods Oda please stop hurting my sunshine child)

plans? who makes plans? plans are for losers

wow. the backstories went to some dark places, uh

Marco does look like a pineapple. but pointing it out is like, rude

everybody loves Robin, and if anyone even thinks about laying a single finger on her is going to be oh so very sorry (I wholeheartedly agree)

the older Charlottes are a combination of weird? and pretty!… and it surprisingly works (for the most part, anyway)

I’m adamantly against hunting down Devil Fruit users to get their powers, but by the gods I would love to have Mont d’Or’s

please tell Brulee I’d die for her

I have a *very normal* amount of feelings for the mochi man who am I trying to fool? I’m in love with Katakuri

is anyone going to point out that Sanji’s siblings are the One Piece equivalent of the sailor senshi but evil? no? ‘cause I’m gonna

yay! we have successfully acquired another responsible adult™️ (Jinbe has no idea what he signed up for)

who is my most hated character? is it Sakazuki? is it Blackbeard? no, it’s a child shaped turd named Charlotte Flambe

fuck the Cp0. seriously

you know what? while we’re at it, fuck all the higher spheres of the World Govt.

Fujitora trolling Sakazuki over technicalities? 10/10. sir, you just got my official seal of approval

*Basil Hawkins waltzes in* he’s pretty. huh *two pages later* nevermind. he hurt Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, he has to go

X Drake will for the foreseeable future be referred to as Dino Nuggies

who among the Beast Pirates thought that ‘all leather’ was a good idea for crew outfits? ‘cause it’s really not

*Big Mom falls overboard and down a huge ass waterfall of doom* oh no! anyways, we all agree that Katakuri will be the new captain, right? (Perospero does not, in fact, agree- but not out of love for the augusta genitrix, that is)

👏 give 👏 Killer 👏 a 👏 break👏

Kid’s actual power is making everyone around him act in the most idiotic way possible

did Big Mom forge an alliance with Kaido just to try and get dicked down by King? probably

“oh, yeah, we just sent Strawhat’s 1# Marine fan to apprehend the extremely powerful woman who has a raging crush on said Strawhat. they surely won’t bond over anything at all, it’s a 100% foolproof plan”

Yamato? sir? I’m looking respectfully

everybody wants Apoo’s head on a pike and I’m here for it

Bonus

a whole decade worth of material and we saw Shanks in like, 3 pages? what the actual fuck

#I will now *patiently* wait for 101 #one piece #Noah loses their shit ‘cause fictional characters: the thrilling saga #Noah reads One Piece

[cinnaminsvga]

A Boy Like You | Yoongi

→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.

{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff → warnings: an overabundance of shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to squish his cheeks; kinda ooc but it is what it is → words: 11.5K → a/n: whaddup kids it’s ya girl... back from the dead after months of not writing shit, and what’s this owo... it’s a fluff fic?? miracles do happen... anyway i wrote this bc i just thot “man, wouldn’t it be super epic if i wrote a super self-indulgent fic where yoongi fulfills every single one of my deepest desires?” well... here is THIS!! pls feel free to scream into a pillow bc i certainly did!! enjoy!!

There is a boy you know who likes to show his kindness quietly. It would go something like this:

The air is thick with static; your hair stands up on end: a warning. The scent of raindrops hitting hot pavement graces your nostrils as a waterfall drops from the sky. You see the sea of heads begin to disappear under a canopy of multi-colored umbrellas. You, the lone ranger, rush back into the building from whence you came, dragging puddles and annoyance with you.

You should have anticipated it, should have thought to check the weather app before scrolling through dull social media posts when you left your house that morning. Instead, your fingers are left cold and umbrella-less.

You tilt your head upwards, watching as gallon upon gallon fell from the sky in an endless cycle. The watch on your wrist reads 5 PM, but the sky says it is 9 PM. The dark, swirling mass of clouds above you will continue on its thunderous parade, pausing for no one, especially not for you.

Your work bag is practically weightless, devoid of anything that might protect you from the onslaught of rain. The only thing inside is a small wallet that holds nothing more than dust and a loose promise of a paycheck. There is no way you can call a taxi like this, and the nearest bus stop is at least two blocks away. You are starting to think that your childhood dreams of becoming a mermaid hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.

Then comes the hand of God. It touches your shoulder gently, hesitantly. You turn around to face a stranger, a boy with shaggy black hair and pale moonlight skin. It is not God, but he comes close.

In his other hand is your salvation wrapped in Kumamon print nylon. It is proffered to you with a silent nod, his gaze fixed somewhere behind you as he waits for you to take it. The tips of his ears begin to redden the longer it takes for you to respond. Eventually, your brain connects with your muscles as you robotically pluck the umbrella from his grasp, a stuttered “thanks” leaving your lips.

He nods stiffly once more, removing his palm from your shoulder as though he had been burned. He shuffles for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to say. You wait, patience never waning for the strange boy that you have come to know as your salvation.

He doesn’t find the words after all. You aren’t too offended by his silence, but he appears to be mortified. And so, he leaves just as quickly as he had appeared, like a whirlwind dressed in an oversized blazer flapping behind him like wings. He runs through the rain without another thought, an arm raised above his head in a futile attempt to avoid getting wet.

You try calling out to him, wanting to thank him once more and maybe to ask how you can return his umbrella, but he is long gone. A speck of black dashing through the gray.

You clutch the umbrella closer to you, a feeling of something new growing inside of you. It is too small to call anything, but it is warm.

x x x x x

Umbrella boy has a name, and he happens to work on the same floor as you. You know this because he is standing right in front of you in all his bespectacled glory.

He ducks out of view the moment your eyes meet his. There is a stack of folders in his arms, and he bows his head until his nose touches manila. It’s too late––he knows you caught him staring. He scurries behind walls of filing cabinets and desk cubicles, desperate to get back to his desk where he hopes you’ll never find him.

The office floor is large, but it is not large enough to hide in. It takes only a few minutes until you find him hunched over his desk, every inch of space taken by enough towers of paper to cover a forest. It is no wonder that you never encountered your mysterious umbrella boy; he does a wonderful job of blending in.

Your eyes trail his form, not out of any perverse intent, but just out of curiosity. You never would have guessed from his unassuming and meek nature, but the boy is devastatingly beautiful. The devil is in the details: you admire the soft slope of his nose to the adorable pout of his lips. His eyelids are charmingly mismatched and his cheeks are begging to be pinched. It takes a year’s worth of self-restraint to keep your hands at your sides, if only so you don’t scare him away before you can even introduce yourself.

(You can already imagine your HR department contacting you about nonconsensual manhandling… You admit that you tend to get overzealous with your affection, especially when confronted with cute things. This boy would definitely need to watch out for you if he knows what’s best for him.)

((Also note to self: Stop having these psychopathic conversations with yourself. Being stuck inside the cage which is your brain is torture enough, so let’s not encourage it to get worse.))

There is a lanyard laced around his neck, the gaudy orange color of your company’s logo emblazoned across the thin material. And just out of your line of sight, you catch a glimpse of his ID. His name is––

“Y-Y/N?” He stutters out–no–he squeaks. Ah, so he’s noticed you. The folder in his hand slips out of his grasp, an avalanche of white tumbling all over his lap. He curses loudly, frantically sweeping away the mess under his desk, as if he could somehow magically make them disappear if he just kicked them hard enough. Unfortunately, the papers stay stubbornly tangible, and he is left with a halo of accounting reports around his workspace as a result.

“Are you… umm…” You hesitate with your words, fearing that any sudden movement on your part might cause umbrella boy to combust on the spot. “Do you need help… picking those up?”

“I–Well, no–Yes, but–” His sentences are stilted, his brain struggling to catch up with his tongue. He clamps his mouth shut, then shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot himself. Finally, after a few more deep breaths, he goes, “No. I’m fine. Thank you for offering.” He says that, but he appears awfully content with staring holes into the keyboard of his laptop when he is speaking to you though.

“Still… I’m terribly sorry for startling you,” you say, lips tugging downwards into a frown. You should have guessed he was skittish from how he had acted yesterday, but it’s quite a surprise to see one man so… disastrous, for lack of a better term. It’s awfully cute. “I just wanted to properly introduce myself and thank you for lending me your umbrella yesterday, but it seems like you already knew who I was.”

His face does a weird thing then and there. It almost appears like he was caught in a time loop, like someone was manually reversing and replaying his facial expressions like a video. It takes a few minutes for his little stroke to settle down, but even then, his cheeks remain a rosy pink. “I–I just… remembered your name during the company retreat the other month. I’m not weird or anything, I swear!”

“Well luckily, I was never going to accuse you of being weird anyway!” You laugh, trying to ease the perpetual look of anxiety on his face. However, it only seems to worsen his nerves with how quickly his skin starts to redden. “In fact, I should be apologizing for not remembering your name, Mister..?”

“Min Yoongi,” he replies, pausing for a second too long. He must have realized his delay because he coughs awkwardly into his forearm, averting his gaze away from you in a futile attempt to become nothing more than an abstract thought.

He must be equipped with some sort of superpower, because you’re starting to feel his secondhand embarrassment flood through you like a tsunami. Are you that difficult to converse with? Does he want to be left alone so badly that he’s trying to subtlely tell you to fuck off?

You’re about to start apologizing and scurry off back to your desk in barely concealed mortification when Yoongi clears his throat, his gaze fixed somewhere to your right. Whatever caught his attention must have been revolutionary with how large his eyes are, although last you remember is that the wall behind you is the same dull jailcell gray that you have come to know and hate.

“I just… I’m sorry if I’m acting odd right now. I just wasn’t expecting you to come to my cubicle and I would’ve… I don’t know, tidied up? If I knew you were coming,” he mutters, propping his glasses back up when they start sliding down his nose. They make their slow descent back down immediately after, forever on an endless cycle of up and down his face.

“You don’t have to clean up just for me! I’m not your manager or anything,” you say, surveying the absolute disaster zone that is his workspace. For his benefit, you sure hope that he has a map of his desk and filing cabinets, as it would have been a miracle otherwise if he memorized where anything was located in his personal office sty. “Though, it would be nice if you could see the bottom of your desk every once in a while.”

To your immense surprise, Yoongi lets out a resounding laugh at your quip. Though Yoongi isn’t a mute by any means, it isn’t like he spoke with much volume either. You hadn’t even thought your joke was funny enough to deserve a strained Caucasian™️ smile, so you appreciate that he had considered that you were even slightly funny. You love the pleasant tinkling of his laughter, so genuinely joyous that you can’t help but want to make a fool of yourself just so you can hear it again and again.

When Yoongi stops, the familiar reddish hue that has made a home on his cheeks resurfaces, though it’s less from embarrassment now. His shoulders are more relaxed, and he doesn’t look like he wants to crawl out of his skin as much. He still has eyes averted away from you, however. “Sorry. I don’t know why I laughed too hard at that. I’m normally not this weird… I think it’s just the nerves.”

You cock your head to the side. “Nerves? From what?”

Yoongi freezes, mouth gaping open slightly. “I, umm…” He coughs into his white button-up sleeve, pupils shaking as he formulates a response. “Just from… work. Yeah, I just have a lot of paperwork to do this week and I’ve been, er, having difficulty relaxing.”

Yoongi visibly breathes a sigh of relief when you accept his flimsy excuse, not really lingering on the validity of his statement. “Oh, sure! Don’t overwork yourself too much, okay?” you say, smiling sweetly back at him. He stares, wide-eyed, not really sure how to go on with his life after he’d been blasted by the full force of your grin.

God, you hope you remembered to use a toothpick during lunch. Was there spinach in your teeth? Oh fuck.

“Gah,” he intones, his brain not fully cooperating with his mouth just yet. If you were any more socially inept, you’d probably be doing the same. Eventually, he clears his throat and tries again. “Uh. Yes. I’ll try to do better next time.”

Feeling like you’ve overstayed your visit, you decide that it might be best for you to leave him be before either of you do or say anything more awkward and stupid. Before you turn to leave however, you decide to extend your hand forward, hoping to erase all the previous awkwardness between the both of you and hopefully start afresh. Even though you’ve only just met, you can’t help but feel drawn to him, wanting to see him again and somehow gain his friendship. “Hey, no sweat. It was really nice meeting you, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Just Yoongi is fine,” he says, almost like an afterthought. He’s so busy staring at your proffered hand that you are afraid that you might have offended him unknowingly or something. Does he think you don’t wash your hands? Given by the fact that your office’s manager refuses to restock the soap dispensers at the washrooms, that isn’t that much of a stretch. Or maybe he was weirded out by your random handshake? Have handshakes become antiquated these days? Are the kids no longer doing it? Are you supposed to do those awful brohugs like the fresh-out-of-college interns do in the breakroom? Oh God, does Yoongi think you’re old?!

While you were in the midst of your mental breakdown, you soon begin to realize why Yoongi had contemplated returning your handshake for so long. Instead of taking your hand immediately, Yoongi rubs his own two palms together first, much like how one would when warming their hands in front of a fire. He takes care to blow on them slightly before grasping your hand firmly in his, finally bestowing you with your much awaited handshake.

“Umm..?” You stare at your intertwined hands, a little confused about the previous series of events that just happened five seconds ago. Yoongi, in all his adorable and flustered glory, releases your hand much too quickly like he’s been shocked, most likely realizing (belatedly) that what he had done might not be as clear to an observer as it is to himself.

“Oh, I – I’m so sorry about that, again.” Yoongi stutters, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just – my hands are really cold so I was trying to warm them up before I held your hands. I’m – I only just realized how odd that must have looked. Sorry.”

A rush of endearment and warmth surges through you as you behold this high strung boy, your heart flooded with a mix of emotions that make you feel gooey and blissful in one perfect package. No, this boy is the perfect package, all soft edges and blushy cheeks. It’s going to take a mountain and a room of vengeful deities to stop you from walking past his desk to catch a glimpse of him at this rate.

Oh God, you’re whipped already and it’s only been a few minutes since you said hello. He warmed his hand for you for heaven’s sake! Surely your enthusiasm can be excused in this one instance.

“That’s, uhh…” Now it seems that it is your turn to be at a loss of words, your throat clogged with a clump of newly discovered feelings that you don’t have enough time to sort through at the moment. The hamster running circles inside your brain has long since ground to a halt, and if Yoongi is going to keep staring at you with those charming cat eyes for any longer, you aren’t sure you’ll be able to convince the little vermin inside your skull to puppet your body again. “That’s… really sweet. Thank you.”

Thank you? Really, Y/N?

“It’s, uh, no problem. Really.” And with that, Yoongi presents to you his most deadly smile to date: blinding whites coupled his prominent pink gums, with his cheeks stretched like proofed dough that make his dark eyes disappear. Is there a pencil wedged inside your chest cavity, or were you just spontaneously having a heart attack? It’s hard to say; all you know is that your organs have turned to slush, and you make a mental note to send the imminent hospital bill to a certain Min Yoongi.

Cause of hemorrhage: being too fucking cute.

With your daily dose of embarrassment fulfilled, you turn to leave with short stilted steps, as if you have to force yourself away from him like those stubborn souvenir shop magnets that never come off the fridge. “I guess I’ll see you around?” you say more like a question, unsure if he’ll even want to ever see you after that disaster of an interaction. Kim Namjoon from Accounting would be entirely too delighted if he ever found out that he wasn’t the most awkward human being in the office.

“Sure? I’ll just be here. As always,” Yoongi replies kindly, same gummy grin on his face, albeit a little more hesitant. “It was nice speaking to you, Y/N.”

When he returns his attention to his workspace, it serves as a signal to you that you really should be going. Before you leave, you take note of the subtle red tint of his ears that reaches the back of his neck, the gentle tremor of his hands as he reorganizes the files that he had previously dropped. It makes you feel odd for relishing in the fact that you hadn’t been the only one feeling the tension between the two of you, though that doesn’t help lessen the confusion that soon follows anyway.

Why are you so drawn to him? You have never felt so strongly for someone this quickly, and frankly it sort of frightened you. You’re too afraid to confront that blossoming curiosity inside of you. No, it’s much too soon for that. For now, however…

“Oh shit. I totally forgot to give him back his umbrella,” you curse yourself once you return to your desk. The smiling face of Kumamon looks at you knowingly, as if this had been planned all along.

Well. Now you have an excuse to see him again tomorrow, at least.

x x x x x

There is a boy you know who likes to show his tenderness quietly. It would go something like this:

Company dinners shouldn’t feel like as much as a punishment as it does, but that’s just how social gatherings with semi-professional coworkers are like. No one here really wants to be there, but the carefully worded e-mail sent to the entire company clearly suggests that this was more of a “go to the party or risk getting fired” type of deal than anything remotely enjoyable. As much as free food and booze are often harbingers of a good time, it hardly makes any difference when your inebriated boss spends the entire time chatting you up in front of the presence of a dozen or so indifferent associates.

“Oh, Y/N! Good job securing that deal with Mister Park the other day. It’s all thanks to my valuable tutelage, is it not?” your manager guffaws, slapping your back with misplaced camaraderie. He leaves his warm, sweaty palm there, feeling it slide an inch lower than you were comfortable with anyone being. The smell of cheap wine on his breath is making you feel nauseous, and the tacky black and white tiled flooring isn’t doing anything to lessen the incoming migraine.

“Right,” you say with a tight-lipped smile, unable to say anything else lest you lose your job over something silly like establishing boundaries. It’s no wonder that the number of female employees on your floor has significantly dropped over the years, especially with rumors attaching themselves like maggots all over your stupid manager’s name. You wouldn’t be surprised if his stomach exploded ala Alien (1979) style with how much bullshit resides in his body and soul.

You’ve long since given up on anyone saving you, not when everyone was either too busy taking advantage of the free food or too scared to confront your shitty boss. You resign to your fate, ready to scrub yourself clean with a brick once you get home in a futile attempt to rid yourself of the feeling of his hands on you.

That is, until someone clears their throat from behind you.

Salvation comes to you wrapped in a crisp white button-up, thick-rimmed glasses, and cat-like eyes. You almost want to start breaking into Gregorian chant just then to fully express your gratitude to the deities of above for sending an angel in your time of tribulation.

“Excuse me,” the (welcome) intruder says, voice quiet but clear even amidst the cacophonous music and chatter. Min Yoongi steps forward until he is to your right, and you don’t miss the way his shoulder “accidentally” bumps your manager hard enough for him to drop his hand from your back. When Yoongi smiles at your manager, it is all teeth and no mirth, his eyes carefully blank.

Thankfully, your manager isn’t quite as fortunate in his brains department as he is in his stomach. “Oh, Yoongi! It is so nice to finally see you attend one of our social functions. You are enjoying yourself, I hope?” your manager asks, guffawing loudly despite no joke being said. You never did quite understand how some men think they are the most hilarious thing to ever exist since clowns, though you suppose your manager was only missing the red nose to complete the look.

“Thrilled, Mister Lee. Absolutely thrilled,” Yoongi says in a dead monotone voice. You can’t help but giggle at his sarcasm, and Yoongi points a wicked grin back at you before returning to his neutral and passive “work” face.

The sarcasm flies over your managers head like you expected, though you can hardly blame the alcohol for his lack of cognizance. You wouldn’t be half surprised if you knocked lightly on his head, only to hear a resounding echo following thereafter.

“I have never seen you at any of our parties before, Yoongi. What’s with the sudden change of heart?” your manager asks.

“Sir, I’ve attended every single social gathering since I was hired,” Yoongi says plainly, his composure never faltering. He must have better control than you, because you’re sure you would’ve barely held yourself back from smacking your manager had it been you. Though in fairness, you aren’t sure if you’ve ever noticed Yoongi at any of the other parties before this one either.

“Oh really? Well then, you mustn’t have said hello before then!” your manager laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder. “Always so enigmatic, our dear Yoongi! Well, keep up the good work.” When your manager turns his attention to speak to another one of your poor coworkers, Yoongi visibly gags from behind your manager’s back, grimacing as he pats away all traces of that foul man’s hand germs away from his dress shirt.

“Gross. Now my sleeve is damp,” he mutters, just audible enough so that only you could hear. You laugh out loud at that, nodding in understanding.

“Same here. There’s probably a gross sweaty handprint on my back now,” you say, wincing when you do feel a noticeable damp spot near the small of your back. “Ugh, what a pig.”

“Tell me about it,” Yoongi shakes his head, making a move to get away from your awful manager. He gestures for you to follow him, and you are more than happy to oblige.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way,” you add, keeping in step with him. He leads you out of the disorienting ballroom, though he doesn’t head towards the exit like you had expected. He appears to know the building much more than you do, given by how assuredly he walks. Either that, or he could be leading you to a deadend, but confidently.

“No problem. You honestly looked like you were about to punt him across the room, though I doubt anyone would be opposed to that magnificent spectacle,” Yoongi jokes, same mischievous grin from before decorating his face. He is so different from the taciturn man you had met two weeks ago, back when he had half-hidden behind his desk like an animal being cornered. Though, that might not be the best analogy to think of, as it only painted you as some sort of predator who came after meek and soft-looking men. Which you aren’t. Hopefully.

“Oh, I would’ve done more than just that, so really he should be thanking you for saving him,” you snort, and Yoongi chuckles lightly in response. Like before, his laughter is just as pleasant as you remember. Your greedy heart yearns to elicit the same sound from him once more, for as many times as you can muster before the night ends.

You had been so immersed in trying to keep up with his quick strides that you don’t notice where exactly he has taken you. The two of you haven’t gone too far away from the ballroom before he stops right in front of a metal double door, the neon green exit sign about it glowing conspicuously in the otherwise dimly lit corridor. He pushes it open, allowing the cool evening air to blow across you and your hand-me-down dress.

“Are we… at the balcony?” you ask, though the view that greets you is answer enough. How Yoongi could have known where the balcony is, you can’t say for certain. But any sort of question dies on your lips when you see how beautiful the skyline is: the stars and city lights twinkling indiscriminately, the sound of nightlife and traffic sounding loud despite the streets being so far away, the smell of ozone signalling an oncoming storm.

This, of course, is what you imagine the view to be like. You know, if the ever reliable Seoul smog wasn’t there to obstruct any sort of magical, romantic view that you should have been privy to.

“Oh damn. I forgot the smog forecast today was especially bad,” Yoongi groans from beside you, quickly shuffling through his pant pockets for a face mask. He procurs two black masks, still in their plastic packaging, and hands one of them to you. “Jesus. Sorry about this. Didn’t expect the smog to be so bad… We can just go back inside, if you want?”

Then, you are reminded of your manager, who is basically pollution incarnate with how terrible his breath is. So, you accept Yoongi’s proffered mask and promptly put it on. “Yeah, no thanks,” you say, voice muffled slightly by the fabric. The implication of your acceptance makes Yoongi grin cheekily back at you (or so you think, guessing by how his eyes crinkle cutely above his mask.)

Now properly equipped to not inhale disgusting air matter into your lungs, you step out farther across the balcony, enjoying the way the cool night breeze feels against your alcohol flushed face. (Though, if you were being honest, the heat on your cheeks has less to do with the meager flute of champagne you had earlier and more to do with the company you currently find yourself with.)

“I fucking hate these company dinners,” you whine a little bit too petulantly, complete with the jutted lip of a child who has been forced to wait as her mother engages in an eternity long conversation with an acquaintance. You lean against the railings near the edge of the building, watching idly as Yoongi does the same. “Don’t you think that if they wanted us to get ‘closer’ with one another, they’d first want to address the fact that some of our coworkers happen to be pigs dressed in white collared shirts?”

Yoongi snorts at that, his right hand immediately coming up to his mouth to silence the unflattering sound. Not that it wasn’t completely charming to you, but you do enjoy the slight abashment that blooms across his face shortly thereafter. “Sorry, didn’t mean to laugh like that. But, I do agree with you… I can’t say that anyone in our department is especially fond of that Habsburg motherfucker.”

Maybe it was the little bit of alcohol in your system, or perhaps it was the sudden rush of realizing that Yoongi is strangely attractive when he swears, but the laugh that exits your mouth sounds a touch too crazed for your liking. Either that, or perhaps you’re finally dying from the pollution.

Luckily for the both of you, it seems that Yoongi likes your weird laugh just as much as you like his. He tries to hide a smile before continuing, “Like, come on! I’m sorry for saying that because attacks on physical appearance is always a low blow, but why the fuck does that dude look like he’s been compressed and flattened on Photoshop? He’s got perpetual flat-face syndrome. You could -  you could land a damn plane on his face or some shit.”

The cork inside of your bursts, and you let out the most ungodly guffaw in your life. You don’t even have the time to be embarrassed by how loud your howls are, not when every word he says hits the mark a little bit too close to home. There’s nothing quite as pleasing than sharing mutual dislike for the same person, and it fills you with the utmost glee that Yoongi is no exception to that rule.

“Oh god… You’re right. You are absolutely right. I seriously can’t believe anyone can put up with him. I mean, the damned bastard couldn’t even remember my name until two weeks ago,” you say, shaking your head in disgust. The first few times he had forgotten, you had been gracious enough to laugh away his mistakes as little more than that: mistakes. But when five years pass and peanuts-for-a-brain still hasn’t deemed that remembering your name to be as important as when the “next big Game™” is, then it’s easy to understand the depth of your resentment towards your manager.

“Are you for real?” Yoongi asks, brows raised in shock. “How could anyone ever forget you – I mean, shit, uh,” Yoongi coughs suddenly, red-faced. You tilt your head in confusion, waiting for him to finish. He’s still kind of spluttering when he continues, “What I meant to say is… H-how could anyone forget their employees name after working here for so long?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I have no idea. Honestly, I think he’s trying to purposefully forget everything I tell him. One time, he had asked me what plans I had for Christmas, and I mentioned to him how I was going to be visiting my parents back home, and he has the gall to ask what country I’m from. Like???” Your face contorts as if you had eaten an entire lemon, so wracked with disbelief that Yoongi can see the hypothetical question marks floating above your head. “Bitch, do I look foreign to that bastard? I’ve lived here all my life!”

Yoongi hums, thoughtful. “Your parents live just an hour away from here, right?”

“I… Yeah, they do,” you reply. You eye Yoongi curiously, watching his all-too familiar flush resurfacing on his neck once more. “Wait… How do you know that?”

“You… You were talking about them, once. To Seulgi? Yea, you were, um…” Yoongi coughs unassuredly, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous tick of his, you suppose. “It was a year ago? Something about visiting them during the weekend… Not that I was eavesdropping on purpose! I would never, er, do that…”

You don’t even register his embarrassment as you are mostly shell shocked that he had even remembered that little tidbit from over a year ago. Hell, you didn’t even remember going to your parent’s house until he mentioned it. “No it’s fine, I get it. I’m just surprised that you even bothered to remember that.”

Now it’s his turn to look at you strangely. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

You stare at him in disbelief. Fluttering of wings begin to erupt in your stomach, but you hardly have the peace of mind to fully grasp why you were even feeling so flustered in the first place. It was just that he had said it so… matter-of-fact, like there was no possible way he could’ve forgotten even if he tried. It was kind of disconcerting, but flattering all the same. But more importantly--

“Wait, you’ve been working at the company since last year? How have I never seen you before this month?!”

“Oh,” Yoongi coughs out a laugh, scratching the end of his nose. He turns his gaze away, looking anywhere but you. “I was just, umm… Really quiet? I don’t really talk to anyone unless I need to. I’m more of a listener.”

“Oh my God, now I feel even more terrible for not knowing your name! I must look like an egotistic bitch to you,” you despair lowly, cupping your face into your hands in shame. You feel another pair of cold hands clasp your wrists, and you watch in shock as he pulls your palms away with a determined expression.

“What? Of course not. You are definitely not an egotistic bitch, Y/N. In fact, you’re the complete opposite,” Yoongi whispers, so quiet that you might have imagined it. He grasps your hands tightly, like he’s desperate for you to believe him.

You stammer in embarrassment, staring wide-eyed at Yoongi as you try to regrasp your comprehension skills. It’s especially hard to concentrate with how close Yoongi is to you, the latter unaware of his own proximity. He had stepped closer towards you to hold your hand, and normally you hated it when people touched you without permission, but somehow… This was alright.

(Unbeknownst to you, this will not be the first time that Yoongi becomes your secret little exception. It’s only the first of many.)

“I-I don’t really know what to say?” Your gaze is locked on his firm grip on your hands, the only thing flitting through your mind: damn, this dude’s hands really are fucking freezing!

It takes another few seconds for Yoongi to calm down, and you know when it happens because the realization of what he had said makes itself apparent on his expression. He turns beet red in a second, stepping away from you with his arms flying off of you like those inflatable tube men outside car dealerships.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, taking two steps away from you. You almost take two steps forward to keep the distance closer, but you have a feeling that he would keep walking away from you until you both inevitably fall off the balcony, so you smartly choose to stay away (even if it pains you to do so). You wait for his breathing to settle, all the while still reeling from his blatant confession just moments ago.

Could you even consider it a confession? Were you being delulu, or is there some sort of connection that you and Yoongi were both feeling?

“Yoongi, it’s fine! Really,” you smile wryly, raising your hands towards him open-faced, much like how you would do when approaching an agitated animal. Like a nervous kitty, you think privately to yourself. “I’m really flattered that you feel so… strongly?”

“I’m… I’m really not like this normally. Honest,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I… I never… do that. Whatever that was. Umm.”

Because you’re a freak of nature and enjoy exacerbating awkward social interactions, you decide to respond to him like this: “No worries, I’m flattered, honest! But hey, maybe next time you try to give me a compliment, you could look me in the eye?” You know, like an asshole. Who points out people’s social anxieties like that? You bitch!

On cue, Yoongi’s cheeks bloom into cherry blossoms once more. “I––I, I didn’t mean to––uh!” he stammers.

“No, no, I’m sorry for even saying that!” You apologize profusely, bowing so low that he could probably see the top of your spine. “I didn’t mean to tease you like that! I’m sorry! That was seriously out of line!”

What a pair the two of you were… Like two trains crashing into each other at mach speed, continuously and eternally. A constant and ongoing catastrophe!

(The little gremlin living inside your brain is knocking at your empty skull, whispering deviously, “But doesn’t that make the two of you the perfect pair?”)

When he doesn’t respond back immediately, you have to wrack up enough courage to look back at him. You gasp audibly when you do, and you have to forcibly grip the insides of your bicep to keep yourself from squealing in pure anguish.

Because there, right before your very eyes, is a blushing Min Yoongi looking you straight in the eye with his face squished between his hands, as if he’s forcibly keeping his head locked in place. His pupils are noticeably shaking and his brows are furrowed in concentration, but he’s looking at you. Like you asked.

He’s… He’s too…

“Okay, let me try this again.” Yoongi takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what may be the most embarrassing thing he has ever done in his life. “Y… You’re a great person, Y/N. I hope you know that,” he whispers, voice trailing off by the end of his sentence.

He’s dry heaving like he’s just finished a marathon, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You’re worried if he even remembers how to blink with how intensely he’s staring you down, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him when your heart is quite literally beating out of your chest like a cartoon character from the 80’s.

“I…” You’re at a loss of words. If Min Yoongi can capture you like this with just a look, then think of how much more powerful he would be if he just learned how to use it. You’re slipping into real dangerous waters, and you don’t know if you’re just a frog in boiling water or if this is where you were meant to be all along.

“Yoongi, I didn’t mean for you to… force yourself like that, really…”

The moment breaks, finally, when Yoongi begins to cry.

“Shit!” you both exclaim, but for two different reasons. “Are you okay? Oh my god!” you reach out for him, not even thinking when you cup his cheeks in your hands. He gently pushes you away with one hand, while the other goes to scrub at his tears.

“Yes, I’m fine! A piece of dust got caught in my eye and I was too slow to blink it away,” he explains, still wiping at his cheeks. He pulls his mask down to his chin, pouting cutely at you. “Sorry. I’m not used to looking people in the eye yet. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Oh my god. At this point, you’d be surprised if your heart was located anywhere near your body. You were running purely on autopilot, so enamored by the boy in front of you that you could almost faint. He was entirely too unreal, unbelievably so. Perhaps, if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to find your heart again, and you know the first place where you’d look.

“Give it back,” you mumble, and Yoongi tilts his head at you in confusion.

“Sorry? Did you say something?”

“Nothing,” you reply, reaching over him and snapping his mask back on his face. You laugh as he splutters in surprise, floundering about overdramatically as if the elastic on the mask had done any damage to him at all. “Oh, stop it. You’re just being silly now.”

“Hey, I have delicate skin! You never know,” he jokes, but stops when you give him an unimpressed look.

“Sorry,” he laughs again. “And well, since I keep saying sorry today, and you look like you could use a little warming up, do you wanna leave this place and get some coffee? My treat.”

And really, who were you to say no to that?

And really, who were you to say no to Min Yoongi?

x x x x x

There is a boy you know who likes to show his thoughtfulness quietly. It would go something like this:

A steaming hot coffee cup from the nearby cafe manifests itself on your desk one Monday morning. In your sleep-deprived haze, you had originally failed to realize that there was a hand connected to that cup and that it hadn’t actually just materialized from thin air like you had thought. After much blinking and staring, you crane your head up to see Jesus standing in front of you, his glasses still fogged from the outside chill.

“I got you a drink. I hope I remembered your order right,” Yoongi says in lieu of a greeting, a small smile gracing his lips as he watches you lethargically reach over for the cup to lift the lid open. His grin widens when he sees your eyes light up at the sight of little marshmallows bobbing up and down in your hot chocolate, bits of whipped cream already melting away from the heat. When you take a sip, you breathe a content sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut.

“Yoongi, I’m going to kiss your feet right now and you can’t stop me,” you say, upper lip lined with cream and sugar. Yoongi’s hand twitches by his side, but he doesn’t move.

“Even if I have toe fungus?”

“Especially if you have toe fungus,” you say, downing as much hot chocolate down your throat without choking and barfing all over him.

From the rim of your cup, you can see that Yoongi still has his parka on, his signature black mask pulled down his chin indicating that he’s only just arrived at the office. It makes your heart jump a little, knowing that he went straight to you first before anyone else that day.

“I still don’t understand how you hate coffee. Like, I don’t think I’d be able to be conversing with you right now if I didn’t have caffeine running through my veins,” he says, staring at you(r lips) as you chew a marshmallow thoughtfully.

You want to tell him that Yoongi doesn’t talk a lot anyway in the first place, though you have begun to notice that he’s becoming more talkative the more you hang out with him. However, you aren’t quite sure if you’re imagining it, but it seems like Yoongi’s change in personality doesn’t really apply when he’s with anyone else. On the days where you’d pass by his cubicle on the way to the water coolers, he’d still have his usual stoic expression on his face as he goes through his paperwork with the grace of a robot. When he’s with you, however…

“Says the guy who’s started drinking frappes after I suggested them to you. Don’t lie to me, Min Yoongi.” You’re giggling softly, and you can tell Yoongi’s seams are already breaking. Pink gums and straight teeth are seconds away from peaking through. You wink cheekily at him.  “You’re just as sweet as your personality is.”

“Stop, that’s so embarrassing!” he exclaims, hiding behind his hands. He’s already smiling. “I’m not as sweet as you think! I’m a mean guy!”

“Yoongi, you literally just bought me hot chocolate with marshmallows because you remembered what I like. I don’t think there’s a mean bone in your body,” you retort, rolling your eyes at the prominent pout on his face.

“Not true! I stole an extra coupon booklet when I was at the grocery store the other day.”

“Ooooh, I do love a bad boy,” you say, but the two of you are already laughing hysterically. “Seriously, thanks. I really needed this today.”

“Dang, bad morning already?” he winces, having noticed the purple moons under your eyes when he had approached you. He didn’t want to mention it without you bringing it up first, but he had been worried about you since last Friday when you had left the workplace with a slammed door.

“Try bad weekend. Mr. Lee has been pushing my buttons for months now, but I seriously didn’t think he thought it was a challenge. He’s been giving me shitty filing jobs to complete like I’m some overworked intern!”

Yoongi cocks his head, confused. “Aren’t you, like… In the advertising department? Why would he make you file things?”

“Exactly!” You’re all but roaring now, but Yoongi can’t help smirking at the stray dollop of whipped cream that had somehow found its way on your nose. He pulls his sleeve over his wrist, swiping it away with the fabric as nonchalantly as possible (which is to say, he’s as red as a spanked ass when he does it.)

You don’t even notice his actions, still deep in the abyss of your rage. “And also! My shitty phone ran out of storage space the other day so I’ve had to delete all the songs on my library and I can’t find any good playlists on Spotify to help me dissociate on the train!”

“Wow, that’s a mood,” Yoongi says, chuckling. He clears his throat, an idea popping into his head. He turns bashful all of a sudden, gaze diverting upwards as he musters the courage to say, “I-I mean, I think I can help you with that last problem, if you want…”

You stop huffing and puffing long enough to appear intrigued. “Oh? Are you gonna send me a playlist?”

Yoongi splutters. “I mean! If you want it, I do have some songs that I like listening to.”

Yoongi squeaks when you smile at that, radiant and all-encompassing. He wonders how he’s not dead right now.

“Oh god, that would be great actually! Text me the link, would you?” you say, already making grabby hands for his phone. “Here, lemme put my phone number in your phone.”

Yoongi almost drops his phone as he takes it out of his pocket, staring in awe as he watches you type in your number into his phone. He has to keep himself from outright howling when he sees you place a sunflower emoji beside your name. How fitting, he thinks to himself.

When you return the phone back to him, he immediately texts you the link to his playlist. You have to keep yourself from screaming to the heavens when you see the very Yoongi-esque title, “Songs for the Sleepless,” complete with the grainy-noir-film-type playlist art to complete the look. It was just so… personal, so Yoongi, and it’s making you clench organs that you didn’t know were clenchable.

You whistle at the sheer number of songs on the playlist, with the first song being—“Didn’t peg you as a Lana Del Rey fan,” you pipe up, scrolling through his playlist with acute interest. “Kendrick Lamar and Epik High, I understand. But Lana?”

To his credit, the playlist did seem like it had a narrative of sorts, despite the eclectic range of artists and genres. You only recognize maybe ten of the songs from his five hundred song playlist, and you’re very curious to see what type of songs he connects to.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he shrugs his shoulders, though a little bit embarrassed. “Lana Del Rey could sing my obituary and I’d jump out of my grave in an instant.”

“Bit morbid but okay,” you laugh, finger ready to close your music player app when you catch sight of a song with an artist you didn’t expect to see. You reach over to tug on his sleeve, your sly smile already causing Yoongi to break out in hives. “Hey… I didn’t know you shared your name with a singer, unless, of course…”

Yoongi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when he yelps in surprise, snatching your phone out of your grip as his eyes bug out of his sockets. His ears redden, words tumbling out of his mouth like a waterfall as he tries to explain himself despite your raucous giggling.

“I––You weren’t supposed to––I forgot about! That was––I was just––Ugh,” he groans despairingly, smacking himself in the forehead with your phone. You’re still giggling madly, enjoying the spectacle before you as Yoongi’s ears are practically shooting out steam.

“You’re so cute.” It slips out of your mouth with such ease that you almost don’t notice saying it at all; you’re still smiling dreamily at Yoongi as he stares at you in shock, mouth still agape from his earlier rambling. You gasp loudly when your brain cells finally catch up, but by then it’s already too late. Now, the two of you were a matching pair, with your fire engine red ears standing at attention.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that,” you mutter into your hands. You wish the earth would swallow you whole right now.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you just said that,” Yoongi wails beside you, but you don’t notice the small satisfied smile he’s sporting on his reddened face. “Y-You can’t just say things and not expect me to…”

You look up, wondering why he’d suddenly trailed off at the end. “Expect you to what?”

Yoongi, once again, defies the laws of the universe by somehow turning even redder than humanly possible. “N-nothing. Ignore me. Let’s just admit we’re both embarrassing and carry on, can we?”

“Sure,” you agree, nodding enthusiastically. “But, does that mean I can listen to your songs, Mister Min ‘I’m-a-superstar-singer-in-my-spare-time’ Yoongi?”

“I’m not a superstar! I just record songs in my free time, that’s all,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Says the guy who apparently raps as a hobby! Seriously, I can tell I’m gonna love it already.”

His gaze is turned upwards, cheeks puffed up in embarrassment. He looks like he wants to say something else, however, and you wait for him as he tries to gather the courage to say what else is on his mind. “S-say, I was wondering… Since I’m already here and all, do you want to maybe go out wi—”

“Yo! Hyung!”

A deep voice from across the office floor snaps the two of you out of your little bubble in an instant. It doesn’t take a genius to tell who it is, not when there’s only one person in the entire company who would dare wear a sushi-print tie to work at one of the most lucrative companies in the country.

Kim Namjoon hobbles over to your little cubicle space in all his sushi-print tie glory, knocking over a coworker’s potted plant in the process. Between you and Yoongi, you had been more surprised by Namjoon’s sudden exclamation, mostly because you’d never been particularly close with the eccentric man. Yoongi probably can’t say the same since he had briefly mentioned that he and Namjoon go way back, though you’re starting to have some doubts about that due to the dirty glare Yoongi was currently pointing at the sentient noodles-for-legs.

Namjoon waves cheerily at you before cutting to the chase as he envelops Yoongi in a not-too-gentle hug. “Hyung! I’ve been looking for you. You weren’t at your desk this morning so I was wondering where you’d wandered off, but of course I’d find you here at Y/N’s de––”

Yoongi promptly stomps on Namjoon’s feet, causing the younger to yelp out in pain. “Namjoon. I told you I’d talk to you later.” Yoongi smiles sweetly, but you can see the aura of danger radiating off of him in waves. “Emphasis on later.”

Namjoon pouts petulantly, but he doesn’t look all that offended. “I was just gonna remind you to ask Y/N if she wanted to join us for lunch la––OUCH! WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET!”

Yoongi appears unbothered, not even looking back at Namjoon’s shouts of betrayal. All the while, he still has his gaze trained on you, never wavering for one second.

“Please ignore my colleague. He can a bit… Unnecessarily loud,” Yoongi says, accompanied by Namjoon’s splutters of indignation.

“Umm?? I’m right here?? Your actual best friend?? Geez!” Namjoon huffs, looking at the both of you incredulously. You just shrug your shoulders, completely dumbfounded by the last five minutes of human interaction.

“As Namjoon was saying before we were so rudely interrupted… I was going to ask if you wanted to have lunch with me? Namjoon can join too, but only if he behaves,” Yoongi jokes, smirking at Namjoon’s ireful glares.

You giggle quietly at the unlikely pair, amused beyond belief at this new side of Yoongi that you hadn’t been aware of. So this is how he is with his friends… Cocky Yoongi is definitely someone you wouldn’t mind talking to occasionally, you admit.

“Sure, I’d love to. Just let me finish all this filing crap for Mr. Lee, then I’ll head over to your desk at around 12?” If you work at a breakneck pace, then you could probably finish sooner if you didn’t let anything else distract you. “Oh! And I should probably return your umbrella before you leave. I keep forgetting to give it back to you.”

“No worries,” Yoongi says. “You should keep the umbrella. I’ve got a spare anyway.”

Namjoon’s head whips toward Yoongi at that, staring at him skeptically. “Dude. Ain’t that your favorite Kumamon umbrella though? Didn’t you almost murder me that one time I forgot it at the McDonald’s last mo––WILL YOU STOP STEPPING ON MY FEET! I’M GONNA GET FLATFOOT SYNDROME!”

“Not my problem,” Yoongi replies, pinching Namjoon’s nose for good measure. He turns to you, waving goodbye. “See you in a few?”

You stretch your back, psyching yourself up to get back to work. “Right. I’ll text you when I’m done okay? See you at 12-ish!”

The boys make their leave, bickering all the while. You catch wind of a bit of their conversation as they turn the corner, their voices echoing down the hall.

“Hey, I noticed that you were looking Y/N in the eye when you were speaking. Why don’t you ever look me in the eye when we talk!”

Yoongi snorts, flipping him off. “It’s because you’re not as nice to look at. Simple as that.”

In your seat, you smile secretly to yourself, butterflies erupting in your chest. Filled with newly found fervor, you chip away at the pile of work on your desk until it starts to vanish from view.

Before you know it, you’re off to see Yoongi once more.

x x x x x 

There is a boy you know who likes to show his vulnerability quietly. It would go something like this:

x x x x x 

There is a boy you know who likes to show his love quietly. It would go something like this:

Your day begins with a phone call: a warning. Your boss tells you to come into work as soon as possible, not a note of enthusiasm or friendliness in his tone. He ends the call just as abruptly as it had come, the silence following soon after deafening your ears. Your heart races marathons in your chest, and your brain goes to the worst place it can go.

Your hands are sweating gallons upon gallons as you shrug your coat on, fumbling with your keys as you struggle to place them in your pocket. For a brief moment, you think about calling Yoongi for moral support, but think better of it. You don’t want to bother anyone, especially not him.

You, the lone ranger, walk out of your apartment and into the murky urban outdoors, the first pitter-patters of rain making their descent the moment your foot meets the pavement. You don’t have quite the energy to go back inside to grab your umbrella, not when you’re unsure if you’ll be courageous enough to leave your bedroom once more if you did.

You’d always been a coward, a soft-hearted fool. Content with shouldering the consequences of your actions without another word: a sufferer in silence. For the past few weeks, you thought you might have changed. You’d been smiling a lot more, laughing a lot more. Your cheeks were often more red than any other color these days, and it was all thanks to a boy you know.

He was shy, but brave. Quiet, but talkative. Mysterious, but vulnerable.

He made you realize that there was no need to settle for one side of a coin, not when you could have both. The longer you stuck around him, the stronger your desire was to become… more.

You wanted to be open; you wanted to be known. You wanted to be able to ask for what you want, and never feel the crushing sense of guilt that usually came afterwards. You wanted to be unapologetic, wanted to keep your hands open, waiting for good things to come your way. To never cower in the face of a gift being handed to you. You wanted to have all that life has to offer––

(Him. Him. Him.)

But there is something pitiful about being unable to keep your own promises. The embarrassment of returning to the state where you once were, of turning meek at the first sign of adversity. The dreams of a happier life drifts away from you like mist under the morning sun, and the pressing weight of the world once again makes its home on your shoulders.

And so, you do not cry when your boss tells you to pack up your things within the hour.

You do not cry when you cut your finger on the corner of your desk that had never been replaced during your five-year stay at this company.

You do not cry when one of your potted plants smash to the floor when you try to carry too many things at once.

You do not cry when co-workers you’d only barely spoken to come over to your desk with showers of condolences, as if you’d already died.

You do not cry when Kim Namjoon walks over to you, quietly bending down to help you carry your boxes down to the lobby.

And when all is said and done, you most especially do not cry when Min Yoongi runs to you with his lungs burning in his chest, glasses still fogged up from the morning cold outside. His hair is in disarray and his shirt is on backwards, as if he’d jumped out of bed the moment he knew something was wrong. When he skids to a halt right in front of you, the pain etched on his face is as plain as day.

Wordlessly, he takes the last box out of your hands, placing his car keys on top when he can’t hold onto them both. His eyes flit towards your clenched fists for a second, but looks away the moment you notice. Instead, he walks out to the elevator, and you follow soon after.

You do not cry when Min Yoongi helps you load his car with your things. You do not cry when he takes a first-aid kit out of his glovebox and puts a band-aid on your finger. You do not cry when he offers to pass by the local home depot to pick up a new plant when he notices yours is gone. You do not cry when he doesn’t treat you like your life has ended.

(But you feel it. Pricking along your eyes like a dam about to break. He is doing this to you. He’s making you feel again, and it fucking hurts.)

And so, he drives you home.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Yoongi starts after a while, tapping a rhythm away on his steering wheel as he waits for the morning rush traffic to subside. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, worried when you don’t respond. You keep your head pressed against the cool car window, staring blankly at the gray skyline.

“I… I hope you don’t mind if I play you something. Just… Just listen to it, okay?”

You don’t see him, but you hear his fingers switch their tapping to his phone as he unlocks it, searching for the song he wants you to hear. It takes a moment or two for him to find it, soft curses tumbling from his lips as he goes through his Google Drive for the unfinished draft that he hadn’t meant to show you until it was complete, but well––

You were always an exception to him, weren’t you?

The first notes come creeping up from behind you, and it reminds you of the way Yoongi would speak to you. All soft whispers and gummy smiles, like he’s restraining himself. Slowly but surely, the music grows louder, more confident with its sound. You can picture Yoongi standing upright, hand outstretched towards you as he asks you to follow him.

The song is unfamiliar, but there’s something about it that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand at attention. You’re trying to go through your memories, sorting through the hundreds of songs that Yoongi has made you listen to but none of them seem to ring a bell. You’re still trying to figure out if you’d heard this before when the lyrics finally start.

“Lost in the sea of my regrets, you became my polaris.”

Yoongi’s voice comes from the radio speaker, jolting you from your seat. Your spine straightens, and you stare bullets at Yoongi’s phone as the song continues to play. When you look towards him, Yoongi’s face is a statue; the only thing giving away the fact that he was with you at all was the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“The shadows, which had been my haven, no longer feel as good as they once did. You, my light, have changed all of that.”

You gasp, and Yoongi’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. It seems like the two of you stop moving at that moment, neither of you daring to breathe. Even the outside traffic sounds muted compared to the sound of your hearts hammering inside your chests.

“I’ve long since forgotten to pray, but I will remember for you. I only dream of happiness for you, my morning light, my northern star. And I’d give it all up for you.”

Yoongi notices your tears fall before you even do; he’s quick to fluster, scrambling through his car side door for a tissue to hand to you, but he stops the moment he feels your hand fist the elbow of his sleeve. He turns to look at you, all blotchy and tear-stained, but beautiful all the same. And even through your tears, you smile just as radiantly as when he had first seen you.

“Thank you,” you mouth, fingers trembling as you fight to keep more tears from falling, but nothing can stop a dam from breaking. Not when you’re sitting beside the hurricane who broke it in the first place; it was the boy with feelings that never did quite fit in his body the way other people’s did.

Luckily, they fit right in with you.

When the song comes to the end, you’re sniffling up a storm, but you still haven’t let go of him. When you’re only a few minutes away from your apartment, Yoongi parks a little bit far off from your doorstep, so you have to walk the rest of the way home. But you’re still unwilling to let go, not yet.

Gently, Yoongi pries your hand away from his sleeve and you’re about to protest, but the words die on your lips the moment they form when Yoongi rubs his hands along the side of his slacks before placing them in yours. His hands are still cold, but comforting all the same.

“Let me walk you home?” he whispers.

You nod. Of course, you want to say. But he knows what you mean, anyway.

When he goes to unpack your things from the trunk, you shake your head, stopping him from moving any further. “I… I don’t feel like sorting through those things right now. Is it fine with you if I just… Go home for now? Please?” Your brain feels like lead in your skull after all the bottled up tears had finally escaped from years of constant pressure, and you don’t think you’re quite ready to go through all those emotions again. You feel deflated, but better. He always makes you feel better.

Yoongi closes the trunk, locking his car before stretching out his hands for you. You stare at the proffered hand for a moment.

“Oh, right.” Yoongi goes to rub his hands to warm them, but you stop him once more in his ministrations. He looks at you, confused, as you grab his hand from him. You rub circles into his palm, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

“You’re always warming your hands for me… So this time, I’ll warm them for you, okay?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything in response to that. Instead, he tugs you along towards the sidewalk and keeps you close to him. As he walks with you, you notice the way he leans slightly to the left, like he’s drawn to you––like he can’t help be more than an inch further from you.

You keep glancing back down at your linked hands; he’s shaking, but then again, that could also be you.

You arrive at the gate of your apartment quicker than you would have liked. Neither of you move to separate; when you look back at Yoongi, you see that his eyes are trained on you. He doesn’t even flinch away like he used to. His lips are pursed, like he wants to say something but he’s still too afraid to.

So you say it for him instead.

“Do you have… somewhere to be?” Unlike you, he still has a job. He still has commitments. He still has a life outside of you. You’re hit with fear, once again, at the sudden change in your circumstances.

You might never get to see him again. Is this where your paths cross, never to intersect again? Your stomach drops at the thought, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

“No, I don’t. I could…” Yoongi trails off, glancing at your apartment with soft hesitance. “If… If you want me to…”

Yes. Please. I’d love it. I love yo–– ”Yes. Stay with me?” you mumble.

“Always,” he promises.

The pair of you trudge up to your apartment, passing by the prying eyes of housewives with your heads bowed in embarrassment. They don’t miss your pinkies linked behind your backs, nor the subtle blushes on the apples of your cheeks. Thankfully, they don’t comment when Yoongi enters your apartment after you, but they do giggle when his coat gets caught on the door handle in his rush.

When the two of you are finally alone, the air isn’t as awkward as you had feared. You work like two cogs in a machine; he readies your TV and scrolls through your Netflix for a movie, while you go to your kitchen and have a small mental breakdown (while also microwaving some popcorn). Soon, the two of you are snuggled into your small couch, elbows barely brushing against each other.

You’re only half paying attention to the generic action movie that Yoongi had put on; you were still deep in your thoughts. You’re picking away at your hangnail, worrying your lip as you try to enjoy what might be the last time you’ll ever get to hang out with Yoongi again. You’re so deep in your musings that you don’t immediately feel when Yoongi wraps his arms around your shoulder, nestling your head into his chest.

“W… What?” You crane your head and stare at Yoongi in shock, but he’s already returned his attention back to the movie. His cheeks are burning.

You’re still stiff with tension despite his comforting caresses against your hair, so he changes tactics and brings your hand up to his.

You think he’s just going to hold your hand, but he keeps bringing your hand up until it gently caresses his face. Just as you’re about to ask him what he’s doing, he curls your fingers until only your pointer is left unfurled, and casually uses it to poke himself in the cheek.

He leaves it there for a second or two, and when you finally turn to face him, he’s smiling so sweetly at you that you almost feel compelled to cry again. His eyes and nose are all scrunched up, rose petal gums on full display. Your finger is still pressed gently into his soft cheeks.

“You said you liked to dream about poking my bread cheeks. Well, here’s your chance,” he says, like it’s nothing at all. As if what he has done was as simple as breathing.

Yoongi’s smile brightens when he feels your form relax against him, giggling softly when you go to pinch his cheek for good measure.

“Bread cheekies,” you say, like you’re in a trance.

Yoongi nods. “Bread cheekies,” he repeats. “And it’s all yours.”

There’s a promise in there, you know. Somehow, he had sensed your worry and had thought of the perfect way to calm you. Like always, he never has to say it. He’s never needed words, anyway.

The two of you stay like that for hours. The sun sets as surely as the moon rises, and Min Yoongi stays with you through the night. When your mind drifts off and only your steady breathing fills the room, Min Yoongi brushes a small kiss against your forehead.

“Dream of happiness, my love,” he whispers into your skin, just when he thinks you’re asleep, “I’ll dream of you, too.”

It’s a promise that he keeps.

There is a boy you know who never learned how to say he loves you, but it never mattered all that much to you––not when he’s willing to show you over and over again. It goes something like this––

#btsboulangerie #btsguild #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts reader insert #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts fluff #coworker!au #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #yoongi fluff #bts suga #bangtan #bts fanfic

[bored-storyteller]

Re-Published

Anon: Hello! Um... I don't know if you write for Tokyo ghoul, but if you do, I might have a one-shot human reader x uta, where he kills someone to defend them so they find out he's a ghoul? Maybe even if they're scared they understand that they can trust, and they hug him or at least touch him though he's all covered in blood or something... I don't mind if you do it a little macabre.

If this is not possible or does it seem too ooc to you, please ignore this. Thank you

~

I finally finished one of the one-shots! I'm taking a long time with them, sorry.

And thanks Anon for asking about Tokyo Ghoul and especially Uta!

WARNING: VIOLENCE AND BLOOD

32 - Tokyo Ghoul - Uta x human! Reader

"Keep death away"

You could have known it long before, of course you could. Yet you were too stupid to understand, weren't you? Or just, you pretended not to understand. You didn't want to understand, it was easier.

It was a thousand times better to keep hunting in the meanders of your mind the doubt that occasionally arose when he never took off those damned sunglasses in your presence.

"Maybe he has some kind of disease, it would be inappropriate to ask, right?"

You always repeated it in your head as you watched him talk leaning against the counter in his study. In short, not that he didn't have his oddities, one more or one less what suspicions could arise?

Yes, indeed. Why were you so surprised that Uta was a ghoul? It was just one of many oddities about him.

You always knew it, but now you have been forced to face it.

You had to face that the security he gave you from that occasional first meeting was just a lie created by your mind. After all, who could ever find such a person reassuring?

God, the smell of blood was so nauseating, so terrifying, you had never felt it so strong before, nor had you ever seen so much blood. Could a human body really contain it?

Your hand went to your neck, where a slight red trickle burned in a thin scarlet crack that opened above your collarbone. The knife that gave it to you was lying helpless a few steps away from you, you could still distinguish it from the slight sparkle that emanated under the crimson cover that dipped the asphalt.

Now it seemed such a trivial weapon, so ridiculous.

You almost wondered how you got hurt by something so insignificant, to still have a sore wrist from the grip of a miserable human being. In front of the spectacle before you, the previous danger seemed only a bad joke.

But that joke was now literally being devoured. Eaten like you would have eaten a donut for breakfast.

The man who attacked you was literally being eaten. Not just killed, not just torn apart, eaten.

His flesh was ripped off, chewed under voracious teeth, and ran down a still too dry throat. His blood was licked, drunk, his bones shattered, pulled out like his organs, as if he were a fish to be cleaned.

Was it the liver he was now biting?

Did you have a chance to escape? To survive?

You remembered feeling a wave of relief when you saw a familiar figure in sight in your tears, however ...

You wanted to scream, but it would have been worse. You wanted to escape, but who could have escaped from such a creature?

He seemed to have forgotten you, bent over his meal as he was. Bloody predator, hungry, too absorbed in his hunger, in his desire for hideous food.

Yeah, he was hungry. Sure. Hunger, he was hungry. That's why Uta had dismissed you so quickly that evening.

And you were almost worried as you heard him close the doors of his shop behind your back as you left. You thought you did something bad, thank god.

Wait, what? Thank god?

No, no. You couldn't feel relieved. In short, you'd be dead soon, you should find your panic again, the one that blocked you until a moment ago.

He, that boy, would have killed you. He was hungry, he would eat you… right?

Your gaze was now fixed on the demon's pupils. The red irises surrounded by the black sea had slowly turned to you, as if he had heard your question.

Even his back, which until then had been bent in an animalistic position, was slowly straightening up again.

He had nothing left in his jaws, neither flesh nor bones. He was just… red. Splashes of living sap tinged his ageless face up above his nose, his tattoos almost disappeared under the blood of others.

And the silence spoke, it screamed deafeningly among you.

You asking him how much harm he would do you, and him asking you when you would condemn him, destroying the life he had built.

You did not have the courage to move a muscle, you remained there, curled up on the ground, with your hands clasped around your neck almost in the hope that he would not perceive your wound, your being alive. Your clothes also wet with blood and yellowish liquids whose origin you did not want to know.

For a moment, you thought you were going to stay there forever. He staring at you without expression from above, and you, ready to become food for beasts.

Your gaze dropped slightly, focusing on the background behind his legs. It was red there too, dark red. Red that stretched along the road in horrible wakes and crimson splashes.

There was no longer any sign of the human being who had attacked you, or rather, the signs were very little human.

You wondered if you felt sorry for him. Frankly, you didn't know what to think. It was awful, but at the same time how could you have saved yourself from what he was about to do to you?

"Have you been watching the whole time?"

Uta's voice suddenly roused you. God, you forgot that there was that voice of him; so quiet, so peaceful with you.

He knew it too, seeing him eat like that, it had to be traumatic. He didn't want you to see him, he hoped you'd never even have to imagine it. And yet you were there, and this was him. He couldn't change it anymore.

You watched him as a child watches his teacher as he searches for the right answer to a question he couldn't answer. What was the answer? Which would have made you survive if there was a chance?

"I ... I won't tell anyone ..."

What idiocy. Why would he have believed you? But what other choice did you have but that? You would have buried everything, just to survive. You would have buried everything because, it would have been easier. It would have been as it had been until then, you ... you could have done it.

"I won't tell anyone, Uta."

His gaze seemed to relax, but you couldn't be sure. Even though you could see him full face he seemed so good at keeping control over himself.

Was he believing you? Did he trust you enough? Why didn't he speak? You needed to know.

"If you talk, you know ..."

He didn't say anything else. His voice in the midst of delirium was almost reassuring, while he held back the scariest words and simply brought his palm to rest lazily on his abdomen, now full after who knows how long.

A warning that meant a thousand things, a thousand threats but he had the delicacy not to let you hear.

"Did you get into trouble at the right time ... your wound?"

Your lips parted, but all you did was gasp for a moment, not knowing what to say. Your head was spinning, you were dizzy and everything about you was shaking. You couldn't have stood on your legs.

"…Wound…?"

You repeated his words, as if you were unable to think for yourself. You realized it. Well, it meant that at least you were still aware of yourself.

He seemed to accept your status peacefully, and simply gestured with a light gesture of his tattooed hand to his neck, which was also so uniquely branded in black and now dyed red.

"You are hurt."

It wasn't a question, Uta just knew it.

Your hands slowly slipped from your neck until they fell into your lap. Of course, of course he knew. He felt it, that's why he was there.

You were in trouble at the right time, of course, because he was hungry. He wouldn't eat you, if he wanted he wouldn't send you away. If he had wanted he would have done it in his shop, safe. Now you knew it, and the sudden relief hit you like an electric shock, unexpectedly bringing tears to the edge of your eyes. Not the panic, but the relief almost made you throw up, and the awareness of the situation poured on you like a frozen waterfall.

Your mind, drowsy with questions, woke up suddenly, taking note of everything that had happened, of what was around you.

Death and gratuitous violence. Not Uta's, but the one you might have suffered without him.

Nobody guaranteed you that, without the tragic intervention, you would get out alive, and certainly not unharmed.

You had really come close to death, and where the knife had cut you it was now burning wickedly, taking you back to the instant before the devil's executioner arrived.

You did not even remember if there was a reason why you found yourself so tightened by filthy unknown arms, you did not remember if you were able to speak, but to pray yes.

God, you saw death. There was death, you touched it, it was all around you. You saw it, it was colored red, a dark red illuminated only by cold emergency lights that hung almost lifeless and wobbly from the walls of uninhabited alleys. Death flowed under your knees, like revolting rivulets accumulating at the bottom of the dead end.

Wherever you looked there was only death, or soulless things.

Where was the life?

Your forefinger and middle finger pressed desperately on your neck, looking for the place where your heart could testify that you were still alive, that no one had killed you. You were alive, you would have seen tomorrow.

And the figure of the ghoul looming over you senselessly returned to being reassuring.

You watched his infernal eyes peer at you patiently, luminous in the darkness. Oh, he was alive too, there with you.

"Uta ..."

You called him, like a newborn bird.

He took a step toward you for the first time, without threat, only in response to your plea.

"Uta ... Uta ... let me hear your heart ... please ... please ..."

You needed to feel him alive. You needed to feel the life in him, as you felt it in you, to know that in the midst of death you were not alone.

This time his expression betrayed him. His dark sclera widened just below the lids which opened slightly more. His black hair fell soft and long over his shoulder as his head bent slightly, scrutinizing you questioningly.

It was normal that he didn't understand. You were just a human, what a bizarre request was that?

Yet, still, it was you. The human he did not want to eat, the human he ran to as soon as he smelled their blood. The human who occasionally slipped into his shop, spying on his new masks and always asking him a thousand curious questions. The human with whom he went out for a coffee, to forget for a moment how much the world hated those like him.

Yeah, made by you, it wasn't such a crazy request. You've always been weird, so weird that Uta felt the need to save you, despite that ridiculous world that always ran too fast around his stillness.

His arms branded with tribal tattoos relaxed along his sides, opening slightly with his palms facing you. Not an invitation, but a permission to do what you wanted.

"If you are sure ..."

The only words spoken, perhaps slightly more insecure, and his calm voice, slightly broken with uncertainty, and at the same time so sweet in that deadly silence.

An adrenaline rush ran through your legs, and despite your exhaustion you got up, driven by the desire to reach that living creature.

It was not a hug, it was just you with your palms and ear delicately placed on his chest, searching for that desired sound. Like a lullaby it lulled you, his heart beating lightly fast against your cheek.

Under his ribcage you could also hear the organic sounds of the digestive process raging on what had been your tormentor. It wasn't as scary as you imagined, that body that was now keeping death away from you, was destroying it right under your touch.

And while you listened to the consoling heartbeat in the monster's chest, you didn't care about the blood that now ignoble dirty even your face. You were simply there, enjoying the warmth of a living body, while a thank you slipped under your breath that the ghoul's ears didn't expect to hear.

It wasn't a hug, but his hands leaned lightly like ghosts on your hips, holding you there, while the red irises more beautiful than blood rose to the black sky cut by the gray skyscrapers.

And as you listened gradually easing your fear, he felt your weight on his chest, more present with each breath. You miserable human being seeking refuge in the carnivorous beast, how grateful he was that even in the worst revelation he could make to you, you were still there, scared but understanding, and yet you were able to make that world around him seem less cruel.

#tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul x reader #uta tokyo ghoul #uta x reader #oneshot #violence #anime oneshot #Uta x human reader

[hopefulstarfire]

Watta Plays: Dragon Quest Starter Sentences

So. One of my best friends has his own YouTube channel. And to show my support and to get his channel out there because if anyone deserves a spotlight, it's him, I figured why not bring in some highlights as sentence starters for people? Useable for writing prompts and rp purposes! Please feel free to reblog, change pronouns as needed and please go check out my buddy Watta Plays!

This may/will contain spoilers from Dragon Quest XI S. This post also covers quotes from episodes 1-12 of the playthrough.

"Oh, that's not odd."

"Oh, okay! Okay! Just a couple of Headless Horsemen! Nothing to be afraid of, nothing to worry about, just....oh boy."

"Hey, isn't that the guy from Smash Bros?"

"You're not nearly as important as that doggo, I am so sorry."

"That doggo requires my attention."

"I'm gonna love it here. I'm home."

"You made me talk to you for irrelevant information. You're first on The List."

"Aw, come on! They're not monsters! They're just...little blobs of joy and happiness!"

"Ah, medicinal -- medicinal herbs -- right, yeah. Yes, yes, medicinal. Strictly medicinal purposes, those herbs. Yes. Understood. Understandable. Have a nice day."

"You're uh...you're not the strongest fighter...are you."

"Is this town just a cult?"

"This music tells me Boss Fight."

"Oh this is some Sly Cooper shit right here."

"This music is giving me some anxiety."

"No, no, no we're going to worry about that now! What the hell was that? No, no, we're not going to wait until later. You tell me what that is, you tell me what that is right now!"

"(Name)? (Name)! You can't leave me like that!"

"There was no Christopher Columbus. He was a lie. A big fat phony."

"Excuse the what now?"

"I know I've been making a lot of Zelda references, but..."

"This isn't gonna be like Kingdom Hearts, where I take a ride to the island and I never see or hear from you again, right?"

"This is triggering a lot of my danger alarms."

"You know my memory is as foggy as those wind spirits up there."

"Let me get this straight. You tell me not to spend it all in one place, and direct me to the exact place in which I can spend it all in one place?"

"So I have to confess my sins to save the game."

"Can we go back to the part where you found me in a river??"

"Aw, sweetie. I've already forgotten you."

"I certainly hope I don't end up regretting that."

"What's so great about the pendant?"

"They've got four chandeliers and a balcony. If that's not fancy, I don't know what is."

"Oh, I already don't like you, friend."

"Why do I have a feeling he's going to slaughter everyone there?"

"Making a racket WILL help me!"

"You're gonna free me, right? You're not gonna kill me, yeah??"

"How long were you in there to dig that big of a hole?"

"Guess I should have accepted those quests before I became public enemy number one."

"Where the hell is that organ music coming from?"

"The rule of three doesn't matter here, don't give me a rule of three!"

"I don't wanna be Kentucky Fried Hero!"

"I would rather not be impaled today, thank you."

"I can't go back to the slammer! I did my time! ...Except that I didn't do my time."

"I think your brain map is kind of out of date."

"Can you just carry me? I need you to carry me."

"Damn, those archers scare the shit out of me."

"Famous last words; I'm gonna be fine."

"I thought it was gonna be a little secret chest alcove, I didn't think he was gonna be there!"

"You said you got jailed a year ago, do you think it's still there?"

"I bet you there's some regret in there."

"So guard boy likes money...oh, and hot singles in your area."

"I still don't trust him. Never trust a merchant. Then again, never trust big money."

"Why are appearing everywhere I go?? And in the most random places?"

"His eyes follow me. Oh, I don't like that. I don't like that at all. I'm getting out of here, I'm not dealing with that."

"Welp, I guess we're heading out at night. That's a spooky thought."

"Now I'm really gonna wish I had that sword."

"It's fine! Kid's not dead! All is good!"

"It's the hot single in our area!"

"Alright, you and me, (name), against the world! Or, rather...against...the government?"

"Oh God, what the hell are you!?"

"I hope that's not gonna come back to bite me in the ass."

"Screw it! Screw it! We'll just fight everything not super dangerous along the way!"

"I don't wanna risk him living to see another day."

"Discount goods??? Discount goods!!!"

"Oh, get a little pep in your step, buddy!"

"The pep is real!!"

"Don't antagonize them! You, like -- you almost died!!"

"What are these little goblinoid things??"

"It's hideous! But...yet...I'm intrigued."

"That's definitely not a good thing, but goddamn if it isn't funny."

"Everything went perfectly, according to plan! Everything!"

"Poor lumberjack doggo."

"Oh, WE'RE the cheeky devils??"

"OKAY, so he's got multi target attacks and he uses fire! Good to know, good to know."

"He'll die by my hand!! MY HAND!!"

"Is that a cow?? What's a cow doing here???"

"TALKING COW! TALKING COW! WHAT THE HELL!? TALKING COW!?"

"Also money. Don't forget money. I would like some money."

"Yeah, I know, my hair is marvelous and magnificent."

"I mean, I'm fine with it if you wanna stay here and praise me for the ends of all eternity. I'm perfectly fine with that."

"O, great angel of the church, I murdered a man today."

"I murdered a demon in cold blood. That's probably a good thing. That's probably what God would want me to do but, you know."

"I'm about to make pulled pork outta these guys."

"Everything's fine. Nobody's dead today."

"Holy shit, did I travel back in time!?"

"I was joking when I said I'd forget about you guys!"

"I don't think I need to confess my sins this time."

"Yeah, I joked about it a lot, so maybe that why it hurts, but..."

"Third rule of RPGs: always check behind the waterfalls."

"You'd think that living this close to a river, or to a lake or something, they would have taught you how to swim."

"Sorry (name), we're gonna leave you in my dust."

"I don't wanna have to look up a guide for something this stupid."

"Holy shit, I'M the heir to the throne!?"

"But, (name), grudges are the best things to bear! It's so fun to bear a grudge!"

"I need revenge, man."

"When you say rightfully yours...you mean that you rightfully stole it."

"Let's teach those assholes a lesson!"

"What a perfect time to raid a government facility for an item that was once stolen, that we're now stealing again."

"You're gonna carry me through this dungeon, right?"

"Oh, it's just a corpse."

"Oh, you're not tricky devils. You're just little devils."

"I don't know what that is, but I gotta fight it."

"How deep does this thing go?? It's like a fucking pyramid in here."

"Hell yeah! We're not dying today, boyos!!"

"He's actually rabid, oh no."

"Kinda unfortunate, but, I mean, I'll take it."

"That wad quite a teleport, young man."

"I have stolen his secret stash!!"

"I don't know if my heart can handle another chase scene!"

"Why are they hiding a dragon under the capital? Like, seriously?"

"Hello, snail!"

"This party is an equal opportunity provider."

"Come down here so I can smack ya ass."

"You're not Minotaur Man! You're an imposter!"

"This is a bar. I don't think this is where I'm supposed to be."

"That's why they sound so weird! They're speaking in haiku!"

"This dude has seen some shit."

"I'm ready for my indoctrination, Mr. Cult Leader."

#sentence starters #writing prompts #rp ask meme #rp prompts #rp sentence starters #watta plays #starfire prompts #dragon quest #dragon quest spoilers

[tipsydipsydo]

BTS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL 🎃

[You're wearing a scandalous Halloween Costume]

A/N: I know, I know... I'm too late. But better later than never!😜 

Gender of the reader: female

Prologue

It's the 31th of October, Halloween. Because the boys unfortunately have to go to practice that evening, you're going to be all alone at home the entire Halloween night. So you spontaneously decide to go to a Halloween-Party with some of your girlfriends. But your boyfriend didn't expect that you dress up in a such short and scandalous outfit (more or less by your own choice ;D), which shows so much bare skin...

「© tipsydipsydo」

These following Scenarios are my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Jin

Costume: Bunny-Dominatrix

Jin just wants to go to your shared bedroom to get another hoodie he can put on after practice when he drives home. He didn't expect to find you standing in front of the mirror in such an outfit.

He stands frozen in the doorframe and his jaw drops, completely speechless. You're standing in front of your dressing table and concentrate to turning your hair into accurate curls with your flat iron, until you notice Jin in the corner of your eye.

"Jin, what are you doing and why are you looking at me like I'm from an other planet?", you ask, giggling slightly.

Secretly you're thrilled and proud of yourself to get such reaction out of Jin. Mr. Handsome, who always blabber nonstop, can't say a word right now.

Jin knew you wanted to go to a College-Halloweenparty with some friends of yours tonight. But he didn't know that you chose a Bunny Costume... like this! He thought, you were putting on your adorable Bunny Onesie you bought some time ago... and not that his usual so sweet girlfriend was suddenly dressed up like a Bunny-Dominatrix!

Jin bites his lower lip, trying not to show what kind of reactions cause this outfit.

"Not what you've expected, right, Honey?", you question and turn towards him with a teasing smirk on your lips.

Jin just nods slightly, his eyes are wandering over your body. The skirt is shorter than what he would've expected, what you're comfortable to wear and for the first time he sees you in fishnet stockings.

Futhermore, this latex rabbit mask gives you a completely different appearance. Much more ... dominant.

"I ... I didn't think you would wear... that," he says barely noticeable.

"Really not? Then you don't know some other sides of me yet.", you answer and tilt your head provocatively.

"Which sides?", Jin whispers in an airy trembling tone as he approaches you, lays his hands onto your waist and looks down at you. Your dark red lips twist into a devilish grin and you nudge his nose with your index finger.

"I think, we should find it out tonight when I come back home from the party. I think you'll look gorgeous when I tie you up to the headboard and let you beg for permission until I'll let you cum~

Hm? Would you like that, my big boy?"

Yoongi

Costume: Mafia Girl

Before you put your winter coat on and leave the apartment, you quickly go back to your bedroom and stand in front of the full body mirror to take a picture of your outfit. You want to send it to Yoongi, who gets stuck in his love-hated training once again. You hesitate a little bit before you press on the Send-Button. After that, you quickly put your phone in your handbag, grinning a little stupidly, as if you had been caught doing something forbidden. You know Yoongi and know that he will not like your outfit at all.

You don't know where this idea came from, but somehow you wanted to test your boyfriend, how he would react to seeing you in a ... very short outfit.

You like your Mafia-Bad-Girl-Look pretty much, especially how "dangerous" and at some point also lewd these two plastic pistols looks in your Garter Belts.

Just in the moment when you want to sit down in your ordered Taxi, your phone starts to ring. When you take it out of the bag, you already see Yoongi's profile picture. Oh oh, now you're definitely in trouble...

"Hm? My little Gangster Girl", Yoongi say these words in a mocking tone.

"What are you trying to tell me with this outfit? That I haven't fucked you good enough lately? That you can't remember that's me who fill your pussy up so good? Is that so? Well, then I'll make sure tonight that you know who you belong to. It's me, is that clear? I'm gonna turn you into my good Girl again. See you later, lil bad Girl."

Namjoon

Costume: Jane Bennet from Pride and Prejudice with Zombies

After some considerations, you've decided to dress yourself up as Jane Bennet from Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. You don't like the movie very much, but at least it's about one of your favorite books and it's Halloween, so the zombies in there are okay too. You just want to leave your shared apartment when Namjoon comes through the door. In surprise you look at him, why he's here now, after all, actually he should be in the dance studio. But how Namjoon looks at your outfit is very much more disbelieving.

"You... want to go to the Halloween party... like that?" He asks with a raised eyebrow.

You look down at you, you are wearing a dress in the style of the 18th century with a corset, but in a modern cut and a waterfall skirt.

Yeah okay, the skirt slit on your left thigh may have gotten a bit too high, but after all, the Garter Belt with the fake knives should be able to be seen! And yes, maybe the corset is really a bit too tight, actually it shouldn't be shown that much of your breasts. But you don't have time to change that anyway.

"Yes why not?"

Namjoon takes a deep breath and presses his lips together.

"I'm not your father who tells you what you're allowed to wear and what not, I'm not gonna tell you what you should to wear, you're a grown up woman and you can choose your outfit for yourself!"

"Namjoon, are you mad?"

"No!"

"Why are you saying such things then?"

Namjoon ruffles his hair and doesn't really look like he's not angry.

"Damn, I don't have much time, I have to go back to practice, but I don't think it's funny how you press your beautiful breasts in this crappy corset and overall, that you'll be out there without me! You know, I'm not going to tell you stupid rules what to do and what not, you're an independent woman and can decide whatever you want to! ...but fuck, I would break this damn corset now if I only had enough time and show you how angry and horny I am! Be prepared when you come home tonight!"

Hoseok

Costume: Satans Daugther

Hoseok knows that you spontaneously decided to go to the Halloween party, now that it was clear he wouldn't get a free evening. He has no problems with it, he always prefers that you're with your girlfriends and around peoples, than to sit alone and lonely at home. At some point during the practice, he realizes that he hadn't asked you as what you are going to dress yourself up for the party. As curious as he is, he text you immediately during the break.

Hobi♡ [07:42 p.m.]: Hey Baby, I forgot to ask you as what you're gonna go to the Party? We'll move on in a few Minutes, have fun later!💕

You [07:44 p.m.]: Hey Hobi! A few days ago I ordered some things from Amazon and now I make my costume out of it. I'm going as Satan's Daughter~😈

Hobi♡ [07:45 p.m.]: So my little Girl is a cute Devil~ With Horns and a Tail too? In my metal Image it's pretty cute!😍

You [07:46 p.m.]: I'll send you a picture, give me a Sec!

You [07:58 p.m.]: *You have sent an image*

You [08:20 p.m.]: I arrived at the party, I'm not gonna look at my phone so often anymore. See you later💋

Hobi♡ [09:11 p.m.]: Baby ... please tell me, that's a bad joke that you're wearing this right now! You didn't leave the house in this...thing?! That's nothing you can call "Outfit"!

Hobi♡ [09:15 p.m.]: Baby... Answer me!

Hobi♡ [09:31 p.m.]: I swear to you ... if you come home tonight in this outfit, I'm gonna ruin you so bad, even Satan would start blushing from Embarrassment.

Hobi♡ [09:40 p.m.]: Be prepared for the fact that you will not be able to walk the next days!

Jimin

Costume: Snow White

"Okay, then I'll come to your house for 08:00 p.m. Okay great! But I have to hang up now, otherwise I won't get a costume for tonight! See you later!"

You press the red calling button and put your phone back into your pocket, go straight into the hall and slip into your winter boots and your coat. Quickly you reach for your wallet and the car keys and head in fast steps to your car. You don't have much time left to get a costume for yourself, in one and a half hours all the stores would be closed because of Halloween. You hope that luck is on your side.

When you finally stand in front of the mirror, you look at yourself critically. Actually, you wanted to have the Snow White Dress with a long skirt, but the store didn't have it there in your size. And because many of your friends are going as Disney princesses, you also wanted a matching dress for the Party. So you decided at the last minute with an uneasy feeling in your stomach to choose the costume with the short skirt. And, as it turns out, this outfit has a very short skirt!

When you were on your way home, Jimin called and just wanted to hear your voice and ask what you are doing on Halloween night, where he sadly has to stay in the studio for practice. You tell him about the spontaneous Halloween Party to which your friends and you want to go.

"Oh, sounds really cool, I wish I could join in. As what are you dressing up as?"

You tell him that you're going as Snow White, already searching for some pretty but also wearable shoes for the night. You want to enjoy the evening and doesn't want to think about aching feet.

"Oh my god, I think that fits you really good and it's gonna be look so cute on you, please send me a picture!"

You look at the wallclock and begin to panic slightly, say that you're already late and you promise him to send him a picture later from the Party.

Later in the evening, a little bit tipsy already and much more confident in your costume, you take a picture with your girlfriends and send it to Jimin, giggling softly.

You are awfully curious about how he will react to this picture and what he's gonna say about it. If he like it? You begin to blush when you remember his intense gaze when you walk around in clothes they're shorter than usual. Especially Dresses and Skirts. He's a little Pervert sometimes, but he's your little Pervert!

You [11:38 p.m.]: *you have send an image*

You [11:39 p.m.]: Jiminieee ... I'm going to jail for Breaking and Entering ... help me!😔

Jiminie💕[11:42 p.m.]: Firstly... why is this dress so fucking short and why does it have such a deep cutout?! And why does it look so sexy on you?!

You [11:44 p.m.]: Do you think? I was unsure at first because it's so short...

Jiminie💕[11:45 p.m.]: You look so damn hot in it and I really don't want to know how all these guys there are looking at my Girl. But... could you please come home soon? I got a problem here. Which only you can solve. So... please?

You [11:46 p.m.]: Let me think... hm, nope! 😜

Jiminie💕 [11:48 p.m.]: Well... then I'll just come to you at the party and fuck you in the bathroom. After all, I know how wet you can get when we do lewd things in public~ 😏

You [11:49 p.m.]: JIMINIEEE! 😳🙈 Don't text me such things!

Jiminie💕 [11:50 p.m.]: Love you Princess~

Jiminie💕 [11:51 p.m.]: I really can't wait anymore until you get home again. Oh God, I want to fuck you so badly right now!

Taehyung

Costume: Red Riding Hood

You [08:36 p.m.]: Hey baby, I just wanted to tell you that some friends of mine spontaneously picked me up for a Trick or Treat-Tour through the neighborhood. So don't worry if I'm not there when you get home.

You quickly write a message to Taehyung before you put the costume on that your girlfriends have brought extra for you. They bought it only for you, so you wouldn't have an excuse why you couldn't come along.

You begin to smile at the thought and roll your eyes. They've really thought of everything, to be on the safe side they have chosen a Red Riding Hood Costume, arguing that you can take Yeontan with you as your wolf and he gets an extra long Walkie.

Behind the locked bathroom door you can hear your girls squeal with delight and Tanni barks full of exitement when they call him a handsome boy.

After you closed the zipper of the dress, you get up and straighten your dress. Well... your friends have chosen a short dress for you! They probably didn't realize that you're a little bit taller than the average. You shrug with your shoulders, you're only wearing it for this evening and you're not alone on the streets anyway.

You make a picture for Taehyung and send it to him, jokingly complain about the short skirt, before you slip into your shoes and put Tannie's dog harness on, who is more than happy about the evening walk.

Tae💜 [09:21 p.m.]: Hey Darling! To be honest, I think the dress is pretty short too... Please stay safe when you're out there. Who knows what kind of drunken idiots try to chat you up?😕

You [09:35 p.m.]: Oh Tae ... I understand your worries, but why do you always have to think the worst of your own gender? 😅

We girls will looking after each other, Nicki is dressed as Harley Quinn and has a baseball bat with her! So nothing to worry about😘

You [09:37 p.m.]: *you have sent an image*

You [09:38 p.m.]: Moreover, Tannie is still there, my little wolf and will protect us!😉

Tae💜 [09:38 p.m.]: You took Tannie with you?!

Tae💜 [09:38 p.m.]: I hope he's a good boy and will protect you from evil weirdos!

Tae💜 [09:39 p.m.]: Because your real big bad wolf is waiting very impatiently at home and he's starving to eat his little Red Riding Hood out!🐺

Jungkook

Costume: Harlequin

"Hey Kookie, I just wanted to say goodbye to you! We all will meet up at Katy's House, before we make our way to the party together. You have to leave in 15 minutes, right?", you ask him and lean in the doorway of the living room.

Jungkook is sitting on the couch, playing one of his countless mobile games. He concentrates so much on his game, seeming at first to pretend that nothing and nobody can distract him and just wish you a good night out without even looking at you. But then he looks up and is so shocked by your appearance, that even the phone slide out of his hands and falls into his lap.

"Holy Shit ...", slips from his lips and he swallows hard.

A slight blush settles on your cheeks and you look away nervously, giggling softly. No matter how long you already are in a Relationship with him, his intense gaze embarrasses you again, as so often.

Today is Halloween and you decided to dress up as a Harlequin. And maybe your outfit has become sexier than expected...

You're wearing a black bodysuit with white small bobbles on it, in combination with a pair of long opera gloves and velvet Overknee-Boots. Around the neck you're wearing a Harlequin Collar in a black and white pattern. At the ends of them there are little bells attached and jingle gently with every movement.

Jungkook's eyes wandering over your body, he doesn't even try to hide his hungry gaze. Slowly, he gets up and walks towards you, resting his hands on your hips and gently pushing you against the wall.

"So you want to go out of the house like this?", he whispers softly into your earshell.

You're breathing out shakily, you didn't even realize that you were holding your breath.

"But not until I marked you up as my girl... and maybe also make you come before I let you go.", he growls, nibbling on the soft skin of your collarbone. His fingers start to move, they know exactly where they need to go.

Jungkook reach skillfully between your thighs, open the clasp of your bodysuit and push the bothering fabric upwards. He doesn't let any time pass and slips his hand into your panties.

A trembling moan escapes your lips, still trying to push him half-hearted off of you.

"Kookie ... I ... I can't do it now, I-I have to go, Katy-"

"Katy and the others have to wait. If you want to get out of this house, then just let me finger your tight pussy and mark you as mine, Baby. You can't present yourself in such a hot outfit and then still expect that I could keep myself under control. Give me only five Minutes and you'll come... Then I'll let you go."

My Imagines!

My Masterlist! 

#bts smut #bts scenarios #bts scenarios smut #bts imagines #bts imagines smut #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader reactions #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader fanfic #bts x reader fanfic smut #bts halloween

[notstilinski]

Try Guys: Eat The Menu Starters !

Taken from the Try Guy’s video series, Eat The Menu! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit! 

“I do stand by the fact that fast-food chains should be good everywhere.”

“Guys! Cut it out. No queerbaiting in my shows.”

“(Name), two years in a row, for my birthday made me a bouquet made of Popeye’s fried chicken.” 

“He’s like my own little personal space heater.”

“We were all going to have dinner but, (Name) wants to see the Star Wars, so…”

“But the shape was funny — Good ol’ classic penis.”

“Oh my god. It’s wet as the devil’s dick.”

"Is there a life lesson in this taco? The one that's advertised as most crazy is the most normal?" 

“Whoa! We're Marilyn Monroe-ing!””

"It burns so good."

“Can we get some breadsticks to go?”

"But there was mostly women working and this looks like male ejaculate."

"Like if you went to a nice Italian restaurant and you found out they were just serving you pizza hut wouldn't you be pissed?” 

"If you don't like waterfalls you're never going to find a girlfriend. Girls love waterfalls."

“I've gotten high with you several times and I've never seen you this debilitated." 

"We're missing an Asian guy but we're getting there!"

"When did you get strucken by the sickness?"

"You're a whole meal snack." 

"Daddy's in the drive-through!"

“I'm feeling good! Um, I mean I feel bad but I'm feeling happy about it."

“They fuck hard. And they're just sitting there on trees, screaming, “somebody fuck me!""

“Let’s just plow through it while I’m already crying.”

“Oh! There’s something in the churro!”

"This one was forever. We've been here for hours and hours."

"It is exactly what I said. It is expresso for babies which is fine." 

"Let's not let this garbage sully the garbage name." 

"A calorie for almost every day of the year."

“No, I don’t want peanut butter whiskey. Stop trying to give me peanut butter whiskey.”

“It’s like a pizza on steroids!”

“Are you joking my butthole? Are you kidding me?”

“It is worth the dairy pills and the possible breakouts.”

“So you’d say that was Daddy’s Favorite?”

"I am very excited about this because it has a very low chance of making me sick."

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #starter sentences #ask meme #ask prompts #inbox memes #inbox prompts #youtube sentence starters #i hate that some of these suck but ! I'm too tired to care !!

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 981 - Initial Thoughts

Ohoho... Now that’s more like it! After another long break Chapter 981 releases Spoilers for Chapter 981, read it and support the official release

No Cover Story this time, we got a Colour Spread, I think Oda was sneaking in some messages in there, praising music for being universal and honest, which is nice for these times

People will complain about how Oda draws women but you can’t deny that he gives his audience fanservice on both sides, Kid out there full rip probably sent a lot of girls and lgbts in a spin

Things are getting a little out of hand for Queen, we see another Enel face from him

See this is what Apoo vs Luffy should’ve been, Kid completely shrugged off a surprise attack. But of course Apoo isn’t Yonko Commander level, proof is right there. Also small allusion to Pirate Alliances ending badly again, is this foreshadowing or trying to make us worry about Law?

Oda making that Number look as silly as possible XD Why does the intimidating shadow always lie?

Luffy ZOOOOOOOMS...with the stretched chicken leg

Ah but where would we be without the bickering? And Killer gets to show his intelligence here, even when driven mad by the SMILE he is the most sane of the four

Giving Apoo the sound limitation does justify his strength a little, but still mad he 2KO’d Luffy at 100% If it was a sneak barrage then sure, but 2 hits was far too few

Also classic joke set up, however it does mean there’s a risk of them not knowing that Apoo’s ability only works when heard...

The Eyeball print definitely seems to be Who’s Who’s banner, as he has his entourage of cat people, it’s fortunate though that he’s prioritizing Yamato for now, he really wants Queen’s head

Looks like someone never told Big Mom of the back way into Wano, her crew are re-attempting the waterfall

Oooooooo Kin’emon is seriouuuuuuuus! Working the pincer as well is clever, on top of Law and Denjiro’s flank

Buuuuut the Tobi Roppo circulating can throw spanners, as would Black Maria’s brothel...the door is a bit small for her isn’t it?

Sanji FOCUS! No, Noooo! He’s gone...too late

Team Tank are also splitting to search for Momo, which might I add still includes Carrot so can she be Nakama already?

Sanji being sad that the brothel is empty is funny, but honestly I don’t think he’d know what to do in one...

Kin’emon you have a Devil Fruit, you can’t jump into the water!

Oh lord Chopper! ...Maybe she still remembers her Olin liking to you? I mean, she only met Chopper in WCI when she was having cravings, and she loves to collect...

Up the Waterfall BM’s crew remind us that most of the people on there are dicks and want Luffy’s head, and the only one happy about the Kaido alliance is that bitch Flampe

‘No, it’s not him’ meant there was only one person it could be

MARCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooo! Thank god you changed your mind you sneaky pineapple

HAHAHAHAHA, down again, looks like BM will be lacking some reinforcements, but this makes it interesting. BM is now in the wolf’s den without back up, except for Luffy’s alliance and Kid

There was something really significant about what Marco said as well, it’s possibly on par with when Shanks praised Coby for his actions kickstarting a new era, change is being promised, for better or for worse. That or it just reminds me of “You can’t come at the King that easily”

What’s more IZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Go help your sister! Oden Retainers and WB Remnants 4 Life!

Well this makes thing a little more balanced for team Luffy; the Flying Six don’t wanna engage unless they have to, BM’s forces are being held back, the Samurai or Law haven’t even gotten involved yet and Apoo can be neutralized. But it’s not all bright, BM spotting team Tank is dangerous, we still don’t know what happened with Team Denjiro, Team Grim Fandango (Franky and Brook) and the Mature Duo (Robin and Jimbei). The return of Marco and Izo does make me wonder if Hawkins will come back now too which I still hope for, sadly it seems Tashigi will not be entering Wano for the time being unless something warrants an extended stay in Wano itself. But we’ve still got question marks on Caribou, Kanjuro, most of the Flying Six, Yamato, Tama, Hitetsu, Hiyori and more. But now it’s looking like a Yonko Mash. But what was the title “Engagement” all about?

#one piece #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #wano #wano arc #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #eustass kid #killer #Scratchmen Apoo #straw hat pirates #kid pirates #animal kingdom pirates #beasts pirates #big mom #big mom pirates #whitebeard pirates #Kin'emon #carrot one piece #nami one piece #vinsmoke sanji #tony tony chopper #marco the phoenix #charlotte linlin #izo #nekomamushi #who's who #tobi roppo #flying six

[the-mic-drop]

Straw Hat Pirates Rap Cypher by Rustage

Never really seen One Piece, but this alone kinda makes me want to dive in.

Lyrics under the cut

Monkey D. Luffy (Performed by Rustage)

Straight out the

East Blue, call me Luffy, I’m a beast too

Anybody you speak to will tell you what I’ve been through

I’m as fast as a pistol, blastin you suckers

I reckon that now I’m steppin up, gettin rough gear second

I’m the captain

Activating Haki, I’m cracking knuckles, attacking so buckle up if you’re lacking

Watch my bounty as it’s racking up

You ain’t ever stacking up

I will fucking end you if you ever hurt my Nakama

It doesn’t matter if you’re navy,

you’re crazy to face me

The aura of a conqueror, even Kaido is shaky

I’m breaking in

cause I’m made to win

I may be rubber, but you’ll need protection from this pirate king

Roronoa Zoro (Performed by None Like Joshua)

Yo it’s Roronoa Zoro, yeah my swords overkill

With a blade in my mouth, so my word flow spills

more blood from a pirate, marine, or fishman with gills

I’ll cut your verse in half

Mihawk givin me the skills

Scars all on my body?

But I’ll leave one on your brain

Just ask Kuma when I took in all of Luffy’s pain

I don’t need a Devil Fruit if you want to see my strength

Hard work, yeah I trained to take Pica to the grave

Slicing back and forth

you know I got a stick for playing Haki

with my Wado Ichimonji

While Sanji sponsored by Nike

Lost my left eye from the waterfalls I chased, but you forgot me?

I’m the greatest swordsman

even after my days I’ll be there on top

while I sleep

Nami (Performed by Savvy Hyuga)

Third memeber of the Straw Hats, but call me Nami

Luffy set me free now I’m navigating him to the One Piece

No need to judge me, it’s just a little pickpocketing

But let me give you a lesson here on some chemistry

Usin’ gusts to make you fall back

Do you want a taste of my staff before you see the lightning flash

n’ hear the thunder crash from my climatact

leave you shakin’ from my thunder lance, can you dodge a weather based attack?

Go ahead and come at me, I’ll watch you pass through

Tell me which tempo that you want me to use

So many combinations, I don’t know which one to choose

Let’s get this over with so I can collect all your revenue

Usopp (Performed by Nux Taku)

Now you’re messing with a veteran

I’m better than anybody

I got an army, crushing all your skeletons

I head up into battle, leave you rattled with my squad

Pray to me, a deity, a sniper

God (Ay)

I’m a sharpshooter so I can’t miss (Ay)

Over longer distance with advantage (Ay)

Got the craftsmanship that is demanded (Woo!)

Your small IQ won’t even understand it

They say I’m lying, but honestly it’s all trickery

Literally, I’m just carrying this crew with my abilities

Hitting me? It’s unlikely.

Come on try to fight me

May have had my issues but I’ve put all that behind me

Sanji (Performed by Eddie Rath)

It all started on a ship in the North Blue

A protégé to the Zeff, what a cool dude

Cut off his leg tryna save and preserve food

Suddenly now you got a friend to preserve you

We all tried to survive from the violence

as we march in an army of pirates

The ocean is a grave full of silence

Enemies wonder, where the time went

I remember I was nothing but a thin joke

My calves on fire, get your face broke

As you sleeping the chef will remain woke

They want beef but they don’t want the Vinsmoke

Tony Tony Chopper (Performed by GameboyJones)

Everybody get to the Chopper

If you got a bounty on your head, Imma pop ya

Girlies think I’m cute

‘Bout to make it reindeer

All about the money, so the enemies should stay clear

Now I joined in with this great little group of pirates

Don’t mess with the squad or we will get violent

Isn’t it ironic I bring pain as the doctor

I could save your life when I drop ya

Now, watch your tone with Tony

or I’ll fold you phonies

Every line’s ginuwine like I rode the pony

and you acting folly

when you saying we don’t run streets

Straw Hat crew and we coming for that One Piece

Nico Robin (Performed by DaisyBanaisy)

Last survivor of my home town

Persecuted for my knowledge

so I’m on my own now

We about to go down,

chilling with tea or we get wild

The name is Nico Robin and I am the Devil Child

Crew archaeologist, information I’m logging it

I got in with the Straw Hats, now I’m reading Poneglyphs

Haven’t you forgotten this girl is straight power

See my hands sprouting and blossom like a flower

Intelligence is unmatched

Show me where the fun’s at

Coming in clutch with these hands growing out ya back

Enies Lobby finding out I have more to give

My crew by my side, so you know that I want to live!

Franky (Performed by Dreaded Yasuke)

Here comes the tank worth 94 bills

Can adapt to any environment like Bear Grylls

Biased when it comes to the Straw Hats, they can chill

Applying a pressure on your endeavors whenever it gets real

That’s the best that you got, probably need to drop

Modifications from my cannon take off a mountain top

My Franky Radical Beam shooting just like a stream,

whizzing right by your head to mess with your self-esteem

Better start counting your bread when you see my team,

accumulating lot of cred gonna need the marines

If you ain’t got the berries get off the Thousand Sunny,

playing like it’s imaginary and get the real Cutty

Brook (Performed by Connor Rapper)

The musician of the Straw Hats

Munificent? Of course, that’s a given

My dynamic riffs are gift-wrapped in ribbon

Every hit exact and honed, like my slashes and my blows

Every note composed appropriately, rhythm’s in my bones

The devil in I is why I never did die

I was revived with twice the undeniable splendour

If stealing the show was seen as a crime then I’m a prime offender

My attacks are so precise although I lack sight receptors

Picked off one by one when I strum with a boney thumb

those opponents with loaded guns are too slow for my frozen lunge

On that boat got pretty lonely wrote odes to my blubbery chum

Though the ocean temp was low I felt so comfortably numb

Jinbei (Performed by DizzyEight)

It’s Jinbei the sensei with my fist I’m ruthless

One swing will leave you stretched out like you’re Luffy,

that’s one piece, but you can get two if you don’t want peace

I’m a fish man, but it’s my hook that make em sleep

You don’t wanna spar, you don’t want the fade

He claim he got heart so I double tap his face

If I gotta go to war I just do it for a change

I live the way I’m living for my brother in the grave

It’s the Straw Hats, I roll with a clique full of warriors

This is not a game, we are not the ones to toy with

All about peace, but if you push us we destroy ya

Big man, but the move smooth like the water

#One Piece #Monkey D. Luffy #Rap #Rustage #Roronoa Zoro #None Like Joshua #Straw Hat Pirates #Nami #Savvy Hyuga #Usopp #Nux Taku #Sanji #Dreaded Yasuke #Tony Tony Chopper #GameboyJones #Nico Robin #Daisybanaisy #Franky #Cutty Flam #Eddie Rath #Brook #Connor Rapper #Jinbei #DizzyEight

[mycupoffanfiction]

I’m Right Here

Pietro x Reader Roommate AU

Summary: Pietro calms his flatmate after she comes home from a tough day and breaks down, which ultimately leads to a confession.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, though no real panic, fluff.

Word Count: Approx 1300

Pietro Week Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: Another Thank you to @sherlocked-bitch​ for the prompt! You’re a real doll and you have no idea how helpful you’ve been with Pietro week 😘😘😘

Shutting the door to your shared apartment, you heaved a deep sigh. Today had been horrible, overwhelming, too much. Dropping your bag onto the floor with a thud, you slid your jacket off, throwing it over onto the back of the dining chair and admitting you’ll just put your stuff away later. Kicking off your boots, you moved over to the sofa and flopped down, instantly burying your face into a soft cushion.

 Letting out a disgruntled groan into the cushion, voice muffled a little, you took in a deep breath, pausing a moment before feeling exhaustion and emotions build up inside of you. It had been one of those days and on top of that you were feeling emotionally vulnerable and now that you were back in the privacy of your flat you’d be able to let it all out.

 Your throat clenched, lip quivering as you let out a little sob. That was it, after the first sob wracked through you, the rest came like a waterfall and you let go, allowing yourself to cry against the cushion, clutching it tightly for dear life.

 Pietro poked his head out of his room upon hearing your sobs. He’d heard you come home, but usually you went straight to getting the kettle on for a warm drink and he was surprised to hear you crying. Pietro hesitated, hand gripping the side of the door tightly as he peered into the living room, catching a glimpse of your curled up form on the sofa and his heart shattered at the sight.

 You weren’t just flatmates; you had been friends for a long time and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have it bad for the silver haired Sokovian. But as with all things, he was a bit too good to be true and while he was incredibly sweet, caring and gentlemanly, he had a passion for women and your interest in him felt fruitless. He was an utter ladies man and you were bound to wind up broken hearted if you even dared to start something with him and you thought it best to just maintain a friendship instead. At least you thought so.

 You flinched when you felt a warm hand gently grip your arm. “It’s just me Prinţesă.” Pietro whispered. You let out a loud sob and Pietro’s heart clenched. “Hey, shh, it’s alright, I’m here.” He soothed, coming around to sit on the floor in front of the sofa so he could get a look at you. “You’re alright, Prinţesă, let it all out.” He whispered, his fingers gently smoothing over your hair as he carefully pulled it out of your face and pushed it to the side.

 Reaching out, you gripped at Pietro’s shirt, needing something, anything to ground you before your breathing got too hard to control and Pietro’s warm hand slowly rested on top of yours, stroking the back of your hand so gently. “Piet.” You squeaked out and he hated how tiny and utterly broken you sounded when you said his name. “I’m right here, Prinţesă.” He whispered, letting you tug him closer. Opening his arms, Pietro scooped you up, pulling you up a little so he could settle on the sofa with you, letting you lay against his chest.

 You’d never been quite this close to Pietro, of course you had hugged and leaned against one another, even received a few soft kisses on the cheek here and there, but this was different. His arms closed around you, holding you close to his chest, the sound of his heart beat and the way his chest raised and fell with each breath was so calming. “I’ve got you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you a little.

 “What happened, Prinţesă mea?” Pietro asked softly, gently stroking your hair as he looked down at you, eyes meeting yours and he reached up to wipe away some of the tears on your cheek with his thumb. “Is it one of those days?” He asked, knowing about your anxiety and sometimes things just became too overwhelming. You silently nodded, nose brushing against his chest and Pietro sighed, squeezing you tightly.

 “I’m sorry, Prinţesă. What can I do to make it better?” He asked. “I’ll do anything.” He whispered. “Jus’ hold me.” You murmured, not trusting your voice at normal volume. “I’ll always hold you, Prinţesă.” Pietro smiled softly at you as he held you a little tighter, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

 It wasn’t long before exhaustion set in and somehow you managed to fall asleep on Pietro, his soothing movements, the way he stroked your hair gently and held you tight, his heartbeat was reassuring and each breath he took was calming to you, it was like a silent lullaby and you drifted to sleep with ease.

 Pietro smiled down at you, watching your breaths slow and even out as you finally reached a fully relaxed and calm state. “I love you.” You mumbled in your semi coherent state. Pietro hummed and grinned, taking note that he’d have to talk to you about that when you woke up. Gently brushing your hair aside, Pietro leaned down to kiss your forehead gently. “I love you too, Prinţesă.” He replied. “So much.”

When you eventually woke up, you were still on top of Pietro, his eyes immediately on you, a lopsided grin on his lips as he took in your confused, sleepy state. “Sleep well Prinţesă?” He asked quietly. You hummed and nodded in response, moving to sit up. “No, don’t go yet, stay here.” Pietro whined, pulling you back down, making you giggle softly as you complied, propping yourself up on his chest.

“So you love me, Prinţesă?” Pietro grinned like the devil and your cheeks instantly warmed, eyes widening in realisation. “I- that was real? I thought I was dreaming.” You whispered the last part and a chuckle vibrated and rumbled through his chest. “No, Prinţesă, you said it out loud.” He gave you a lopsided smile. “Oh god, I’m so sorry Piet.” You whispered, scrambling to get off him, but Pietro pulled you back. “No, no, not yet Prinţesă. You remember what else happened in that dream?” Pietro asked softly and your stared at him wide eyed, suddenly becoming too shy to speak. “You- you said you loved me too.” You whispered. “Exactly.” Pietro poked your nose playfully. “Because I did say it.” He grinned at you and your lips parted, mouth slightly agape.

“You love me?” You gasped a little, almost not quite believing it. “Of course I do, Prinţesă.” He chuckled. “I always have.” He nudged you gently. “But all of those girls they-.” “I thought you weren’t interested in me, so I dated around to take my mind off you.” Pietro sighed. “I’m sorry, Prinţesă perhaps I should have been more forward, but you don’t exactly respond to my flirting much.” He winked at you. “That’s because you always flirt.” You snorted, raising a brow and Pietro nodded, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Can I make it up to you, Prinţesă? I could take you on a date? Treat you to something?” He asked. “Ask you to be my girlfriend.” Pietro added in a joking tone, but you could see from the look on his face that he was serious underneath the guise of his voice. “I’ll be your girlfriend.” You nodded, grinning and Pietro’s face lit up in excitement.

“Well, now that you’re my girlfriend, which sweatshirt do you want first?” Pietro asked, grinning widely at you, making you giggle at his antics as he pulled one from the back of the sofa onto you. “I’ll give you all of my jumpers if it makes you happy Prinţesă.”

Pietro Week Taglist (OPEN):

@valkyriesryde​ @bisexual----mermaid​ @sherlocked-bitch​ @virtualmemmecollector​ @megantje123​ @sebbbystaaan​ @unknown-and-invisible​ @scarlett-berserker​ @shygirl-00​

#pietro x reader #pietro x you #pietro fluff #pietro fanfic #pietro maximoff #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x you #quicksilver #marvel #marvel fic #roommate au #roommate!pietro #mcu #comfort fic #pietroweek

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty One, “Timing”

Find all chapters to this story here! 

Check out the character survey from Becky’s POV I did recently! :-)

Warnings: Very brief mention of IVs (needles)

Song Inspo: My My Love by Joshua Radin (Click to listen)

                                    Sneaky Peeeeeeeeeky!

“A spark ignites on my cheek, almost like a tickle. And when I look over, his eyes are glued to me. The tip of his calloused finger brushes a ghost of a touch under my eye. “I neva knew ya hadda scar there,” he murmurs, running the tip of his finger over the oblong light brown shape.

“I-It’s not a scar,” I say quickly, but at the same time, at a loss for words. He’s so close his breath smelling of chamomile tea passes by me within a second. And God, those pouty strawberry lips are so decadent, and tempting. “It’s a birthmark. I usually cover it up with makeup, that’s probably why you’ve never seen it.” Finished, I turn my head back to the telly, his finger dropping from the barely one inch mark.

“Wha’? Why d’ya do that? ‘s lovely.” As much as I try to drown my thoughts in the scene unraveling before my eyes, I can’t. Because his words, and the tingling under my eye consume my thoughts. The devil and angel inside my head bounce up and down in their seats.”

“No. W-what are you doing here?” I stutter, unable to control my words. Or my thoughts. Or my emotions.

At the drop of my words, Harry’s face falls. His eyebrows. The budding smile on his lips. And the brightness in his eyes. But he masks it quickly. And it escapes my mind when he crosses the distance between us. His black slacks, teal geometric-patterned button down, and curls are a blur in the seconds that follow. Suddenly, his arms are around me and pulling me into him. With sleep still clinging to my mind, and unsure of what to do, I freeze. 

“Please don’t tell me you left work to drive 3 hours to come to Madley,” I confess quietly into the damp shoulder of his black peacoat. Shivering, his fingers run trails up and down my back. 

“Shuddup, I ‘ave a case t’morrow nearby in Wolverhampton . . . Jus’ lemme do sumthin’ nice fer ya,” he says, his soft words drifting over the top of my head. 

“I-I’m sorry. I just woke up and you caught me off guard,” I apologize meekly, feeling myself relax. My arms wind around his waist and lace themselves together over his coat. 

“‘s okay,” he hums. His hands pause and I feel them brush my hair away. “I know ya hadda rough night- well couple o’ days,” Harry murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. My lungs still and I wait, wondering if he’ll kiss my head. But it doesn’t come, and I try to will away the disappointment beginning inside of me. I’ve become so accustomed to it that it doesn’t want to leave this time. Then it’s joined by the happy disbelief appearing wet in my eyes. 

“Couldn’ stop thinkin’ ‘bout ya, an’ figured I had t’ come up ‘ere t’morow mornin’ anyways. Wha’s an extra night hurt?” The first few words do it for me, and there I am spewing tears all over his shoulder. They’re not a waterfall, but the emotions growing inside of me feel that way. And they’re here, because he is. 

He holds me tighter against him, and I feel his cheek rest on my head. Holding on tight to his coat, I let myself and everything I’m feeling melt against him. “You don’t know what it means to me that you’re here,” I confess in a trembling voice interrupted by sniffling. 

“I think I do do, ‘coz you were there fer me tha day o’ tha funeral when I needed a friend. An’ at tha hospital. Ya showed up fer me, Becks, an’ I wanted t’ do tha same fer ya,” Harry reveals softly from above me. My lips bend into a happy smile amongst the tears that come harder at his words. “I brought dinna, ‘cuz I knew ya prolly hadn’t eaten. ‘s luck that I found ya atta vendin’ machine.”

His precious laugh greets my ears as his fingers tickle up my back. The bunches of fabric leave my hands, and I step away to search for those green eyes. After a few seconds, I find them staring down at me. They’re blurry behind the tears, but soon his smiling face sharpens. 

“No mo’ tears, ‘kay? Le’s go eat some dinna an’ find  sumthin’ good on tha telly,” Harry whispers, running the pad of his thumb along my cheeks. Nodding, his hand envelopes mine and we go to find a sitting area.

The halls are deserted besides a few nurses checking in on patients. Familiar medical-sounding beeps sound throughout the hallway. After guiding the way for Harry as I wipe my cheeks, we soon find our dining table. Or rather a sofa with a little table. 

“I hope fish an’ chips ‘s alright,” he says, doubt filling his words. 

“Of course they are. Did you get them from Maggie’s over on Fifth?”

“Yeah, I think so. Li’l shop with photos coverin’ tha walls?” he questions as he unpacks the brown paper bag. 

“Yep, that’s the one. They make the best fish and chips I’ve had. And I would know, because I grew up eating these ones my entire life.”

“Well I guess ya would know then,” Harry relents, shrugging his shoulders with a toothy smile. 

Whispered ‘thank yous’ float between us as we pass each other food and napkins. With two cups of water from the cooler a few steps away, we dig in. 

“No kiddin’, these are good. ‘s always tha family owned shops that make tha best ones, innit?” Harry mumbles with a mouth full of food. I reply with an ‘mmmhmm’, trying not to laugh at the crumbs speckling his chin. 

The crispy, buttery cod melts on my tongue. With my free hand, I grab hold of the gray remote sitting on the table beside me. 

“Hey, ‘s my turn t’ pick what we watch,” Harry whines, stealing the remote from me. 

“Rude!” I retort, but any words I had left to say collapse into laughter. Licking his thumb, he peeks over at me. A sly grin stuck to his lips. 

Shaking my head, I look away and pick up a chip from the paper tray in my hand. When my eyes return to him, a ketchup-covered chip sits in his hand. Meanwhile, his face is screwed up in concentration at the telly. I smile, and then notice his reflection in the dark window on the other side of him. Kicking his foot with my right, he turns to the left to look at me in confusion. 

“Just pick something!” I tell him, my palm turning up to help me talk. His dark curls dance atop his head as it goes from side to side. 

“Oh hush, you. Cantcha letta man think?” he quips before feeding the chip past his cherry lips. 

“No, not when it takes you an hour to pick what to watch,” I reply, yanking it from his hands. 

“Heeeey! I was jus’ gonna pick that episode o’ Friends!” 

“Wait, you like Friends?!” I nearly yell, my head snapping to look at him. 

“O’course! Who doesn’t? I grew up watchin’ that show with me mum an’ sista,” he answers. With those words, my heart does a somersault in my chest. Oh my fuck, I’m falling again. “Wha’? Do ya not like it?”

“No, I-I love it. I grew up watching it, too. It’s like my comfort show - I watch it when I’m happy, sad, mad, excited- you name it,” I reply slowly, engrossed in gathering ketchup onto my chip. When I hear his murmured ‘me too’ from a mouth full of food, the devil and angel inside of me go crazy. For once, they seem to root for the same team. 

“Favourite characta?” his words greet the air effortlessly. He licks the salt and grease from his thumb, and I suddenly regret looking up. The things you do to me, Styles. 

“On the count of 3?” I ask, and his chestnut ringlets bounce with a nod. 

“1 . . . 2 . . . 3.”

“Phoebe!” we both say in unison, sending us into fits of giggles. 

“There’s nuthin’ betta than her on dat show. She’s hilarious, plays guitar, ‘s a surrogate fer her bloody brotha, an’ ‘s gorgeous,” Harry explains, and I’m following with every word. And with each one, I feel the butterflies in my tummy flutter again. For possibly the tenth time already tonight. 

“All of the great jokes and catchphrases from the show are from her: Regina Phalange, Smelly Cat, Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, ‘I don’t even have a pla’, Gladys the framed doll, and that stupid taxi. She’s blunt and so funny, but she’s so sweet and would do anything for her friends,” I continue, watching him nod emphatically as he picks up another chip. 

“Couldn’ ‘ave said it betta meself. Oh I love dis episode where they’re stuck at tha beach house. Poor Phoebs findin’ out tha truth ‘bout her mum dat way, tho’,” Harry comments, his mouth falling into a delighted and then sad O. My eyes follow his to the screen of the telly where our attention is held for the next twenty minutes. 

My shoes only stop squeaking when I stop in front of the garbage bin. After tossing the greasy paper bag, I rub a pump of hand sanitizer into my hands. I wince at the awful sounds my shoes make as I try to walk quietly down the tiled hallway. The snoring greets my ears before I see him, but when I do, I smile. With careful steps, I pluck my backpack from the couch before leaving the room. 

“He still sleepin’?” Harry asks, looking up from the Friends marathon from the telly. We scored! 

“Yep,” I answer, plopping down onto the sofa beside him. 

“Good,” he answers, slumping down further into the gray cushions. My backpack drops with a thud to the floor after I got what I needed. “What’re ya doin’? ‘s eleven-thirty, love. Tha’s no time t’ be doin’ homework.”

“I know, but I need to submit an assignment before I forget. It’s due at midnight,” I answer, seeing his nod out of the corner of my eye. 

My laptop wakes with its usual jingle, and I watch my browser load. The audience laughter fills my ears at a humorous line from Chandler. Surprise, surprise. The maroon and navy blue colors of my uni’s website appear in front of me. Within a few moments, I’m on the web page for my course. 

“Wha’s tha assignment?” Harry inquires, his eyes never leaving the telly. A laugh creases his cheeks, making me smile. But I’m not very sad I missed what’s so funny, because he makes up for it. 

“Um, it’s an essay about Thomas Cromwell and his theories and stuff,” I reply, opening the page for assignments. 

“Ah, I see they ‘aven’t changed coursework much from my day. Cromwell ‘s bloody obvious when ya start talkin’ ‘bout British law.”

“I know, it’s like the professor didn’t even try when drafting this assignment,” I comment with a small titter. Relief washes over me when I get a message saying my submission was successful. And something else too from being able to talk to him about law so easily. Something akin to how a hot chocolate makes you feel on a winter’s day.

I glance up and find Harry losing it with laughter. There’s a fleeting temptation to ask him to clue me in. But a laugh tingles on my lips when I find what he’s laughing at. Monica’s crying as she holds onto Chandler’s arm, an ocean scene in the background. 

“Can’ believe Joey actually peed on Monica.” The words leave Harry’s mouth in between chuckles rather sloppily. 

“He was just trying to help!” I comment, unable to stop laughing either. 

“But it doesn’t even help! They say it makes it worse even,” he laughs, rubbing his forehead.  

Shaking my head, my eyes fall to my laptop screen. After a few clicks, lines of text cloud my eyes. My eyes roll into the back of my head at their appearance. I find it nearly impossible to hold back a groan. 

“What’re you gripin’ ‘bout ova here?” Harry questions with teasing in his tone.

“I have to read the entire case of Haughton v. Smith for a test, and it’s so confusing. I mean, working with you brushed me up on a lot of legal mumbo jumbo. But still, a lot of it doesn’t make sense to me,” I huff, my chin falling into the palm of my hand.  

“Alright, lemme see what part yer at,” he says in a quiet voice. I try to ignore the regret budding inside of me at what I said about working at his firm. And how it makes me feel, and probably him, too. I don’t know why I ever bring it up, because sometimes it feels like when somebody else brings up the ex-boyfriend, or something. The sofa cushion dips as he closes the space between us. The angel and demon inside of me erupt into synonymous cheers when his arm goes around me. 

“God, did you forget your glasses or something, Grandpa?” my question sputters from my lips in a cackle, watching him squint at the screen.

“Oh shuddup, an’ I mean it,” Harry quips, looking away for a moment. When I see the reason why, instead of a laugh consuming my thoughts, something else does. For some fucking reason, my heart warms at the sight of him unfolding a pair of mottled brown Pantos glasses. He tucks the brown case into the inside of his blazer, his peacoat on a chair. “Ya ya, laugh all ya want at me an’ me readin’ glasses.” 

But when he looks down at me with them settled on his nose, I don’t laugh. “Why aren’t ya laughin’ anymo’, hmm?” he questions. 

“I think they look really nice on you. They make you look handsome and sophisticated,” I tell him slowly, and it’s undeniable the pink that pinches his cheeks. 

“Well ‘s ‘bout time fer dat t’ happen, only took me twenty-nine years,” he jokes, bringing a smile to my lips. My head goes from side to side as I close my eyes, my cheeks bunching from happiness painting my lips. Yeah, it’s about time for a lot of things right about now. “Alrigh’, lemme look what part yer at fer real now.”

I nod, trying to get comfortable on the sofa. Pitching my head back, I feel it bump into his arm. Nevermind my fucked neck, I return my eyes to the screen to try and forget that his arm is around me. But they immediately refuse and slowly trail to Harry, his face mere inches away from mine. 

Okay, no, stop thinking about his lips and what they could do, I tell the demon inside of my head. 

Becky, you could. You so know you could do it. 

Shut up! He’s just helping me with my homework, that’s all this is. 

Oh yeah? And when are you going to let yourself think about the real reason he’s here, huh?

I can’t do that right now. 

Yes, you can! Maybe if you think about it, you’ll realize how good of an idea it would be to let yourself kiss him. I’m sure he’s thinking about it too.

Just stop!

His thumb and forefinger knead his bottom lip. It bunches together in little waves as his eyes flit across the screen. Whiskers the shade of his curls are scattered across his face. They’re dense atop his upper lip and around his chin. And God, I can’t stop thinking about them. Wanting to touch them. Feel them on my face- okay stop it, Becky. 

“Well yer mostly at tha end, so wha’ doesn’t make sense t’ ya?” Harry finally says, turning his head ever so slightly to look at me. 

“I know, but I feel like I don’t know what I just read. And the verdict is contradicting to me,” I answer with a shrug of my shoulders. 

“Well maybe it’d make more sense t’ ya if ya weren’t lookin’ at it at almos’ midnigh’, love.”

“Yeah, well it’s kind of the only time I have lately with everything. I’m afraid to email my prof again saying I need an extension when it’s due tomorrow. I’ve needed a lot of them lately. I just wanna get it done,” I respond quietly, looking to the telly awkwardly. It’s always hard when the truth comes out, and the emotions that hang on to it. 

A spark ignites on my cheek, almost like a tickle. And when I look over, his eyes are glued to me. The tip of his calloused finger brushes a ghost of a touch under my left eye. “I neva knew ya hadda scar there,” he murmurs, running the tip of his finger over the oblong light brown shape. 

“I-It’s not a scar,” I say quickly, but at the same time, at a loss for words. He’s so close his breath smelling of chamomile tea passes by me within a second. And God, those pouty strawberry lips are so decadent, and tempting. “It’s a birthmark. I usually cover it up with makeup, that’s probably why you’ve never seen it.” Finished, I turn my head back to the telly, his finger dropping from the barely one-inch mark. 

“Wha’? Why d’ya do that? ‘s lovely.” As much as I try to drown my thoughts in the scene unraveling before my eyes, I can’t. Because his words, and the tingling under my eye consume my thoughts. The devil and angel inside my head bounce up and down in their seats. 

“Kids used to make fun of it when I was little. They’d call it a worm under my eye, because of its shape. It used to be more pronounced and bigger when I was little, but it’s still pretty noticeable,” I answer, adding in an eye roll that he laughs at. 

“Aww, poor Becks. But if it counts, I don’ think it looks like a worm. ‘s cute on you,” he adds seriously, pinching my cheek. That makes me look over at him, and I already know that I’m blushing. 

A small ‘thanks’ leaves my lips before my eyes dip to my laptop. Close to a minute of silence grows between us before he breaks it. “‘Kay, so Haughton vs. Smith found that ya can’t commit tha crime o’ handlin’ stolen goods, if tha goods they’re talkin’ ‘bout weren’t actually stolen. ‘s an important case t’ know, cuz it was ‘ventually ovaturned by tha Criminal Attempts Act o’ ‘81. Ya’ll neva be able t’ forget tha connection between tha two, issa given. Ya don’ need t’ worry ‘bout that law now tho’, they basically mean tha same thing.” 

“Thanks for explaining it, I hope it’s enough to help me pass the test on it,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly. 

“Open tha test, an’ ‘ll help ya with it.”

The second my eyes land on Joey’s body covered in sand on the telly, they whip back to Harry. “Really, you’d help me?”

“‘Course I would. Tha’s what ‘m here fer. An’ it wouldn’t hurt t’ see if I still got it.”

“You’ve been a lawyer for years, and this is pre-law, so of course you do. And not to mention, ranked as one of the best in London,” I reply smiling, clicking open a new tab. I suspect how my words will make him feel, because they fill me with the same emotions. Pride. Happiness. Astonishment. And more pride. 

“Well, I do me best,” Harry titters proudly. A cocky hum leaves his lips as he brushes off his chest. A laugh sputters from my lips that I can’t contain. “Heeeey, don’ be laughin’ at me.”

“Sorry, I just can’t control myself when you start dropping dad jokes,” I respond nonchalantly, clicking on the tab labeled ‘Assessments.’

“Just pull tha bloody test up an’ le’s get it ova with,” he huffs, amusement still lacing through his words. 

“Awww, is it past your bedtime already?” I pout, turning my eyes to him. His lips smush together and I hear the smallest of squeaks get past them. “You know you like my grandpa jokes, don’t lie.”

“Shuddup, li’l one, an’ open tha goddamn test already,” he huffs. If anybody else heard him, they’d think he was mad at me. But even as my eyes cast over the column of tests from this course, I know different. I can hear it in his voice - the joking, the molasses, the affectionate teasing, and the friendship. 

Wow, nice choice of words there, Ms. Denial. 

Shut up, devil. 

“I am not little!” I retort in a high voice, making my two tabs appear as two windows on my screen. Side by side. Cheating time!

“Becks, yer like 5’5, if that.”

“No, I’m not! I’m 5’6, you liar!”

“Ya, cuz that one lousy inch really does a whole lot, doesn’t it?” Harry counters, his voice melting into a goofy one. I respond to it with a hearty laugh that is soon accompanied by his. “Yer still a li’l one t’ me, love.” 

“Fine, Grandpa Harry.”

+

The annoying sound of a laugh track pricks at my ears. Blinking hard, the room around me is blurry. But after a groggy minute of blinking, it begins to sharpen. I don’t remember the lights getting turned off, but the telly screen burns my eyes. Rubbing them, I moan from tiredness. Dropping my arm, I feel it hit something. Looking down, I’m confused. When I lift my head from whatever it was resting on, I find what I was laying on. And well, what was also laying on me. Still is. Her face scrunches adorably before relaxing, nuzzling her head against my shoulder once more. 

Becks. 

After combing my hair off of my forehead, the lock screen of my phone wakes me up a little more. Especially when I see that it reads 1:18 am. Fuck, I need to get to my hotel and go to bed. I have my case tomorrow. But when I hear a noise and find the culprit, all of those thoughts wash away. An incoherent sound runs off of her lips, ones that are so close to me. Fuck, again. But when my eyes scan the rest of my body, I realize that she’s all over me. Well, almost. Her right hand rests on my chest as she leans against the back of the sofa. But her pretty little head of dark hair is laying on my shoulder. My arm is around her, holding her close to me. I can feel her other arm tickling my side. 

Memories float to the surface, and suddenly I’m back at the hospital in London. In December. A phone call woke me from my slumber beside her on the sofa. The both of us curled up on opposite sides. Sleep clinging to my eyes and begging to me to return to it. Her shoulders rising with every soft snore, but it was the most daintiest one I’d ever heard. It felt like my heart was being squeezed tighter with every move I made to leave her. When I draped the second blanket over her. And how much it hurt to move the hair off of her face. To press a kiss to her unknowing head. But nothing compared to the anguish I felt grow with every step I put between us. 

Blinking hard, the dark room materializes around me again. Her precious snores welcome my return to the moment. A smile brings my lips upwards as I watch a crease grow between her eyebrows. She’s too goddamn adorable. And that’s why I came, isn’t it? Because no matter how hard I try, I can’t resist her. I can’t say no to Becky. When she called me crying and a mess worrying about her dad, I didn’t know what I was doing until I was putting the town of Madley into my GPS. I guess The Beatles were right with that one song, and plenty of others. She’s really got a hold on me. And before I could begin to stop myself, her skin is like velvet under my thumb. I rub the crease away with the pad of it, and suddenly my head dips. My lips barely brush her hair when she groans below me. 

“Harry?” she murmurs, lifting her head from my shoulder. 

“Hi, sleepyhead.”

She yawns, moving away to look around sleepily. But soon she returns back to my arms, cozying up to me once more. And I couldn’t be more thankful, or conflicted. The latter word drills into my mind as I rub a hand down her back, sleep trying to coax me back in, too. 

“We fell asleep,” she mumbles, her honey voice coated in that very word. Fuck, does it make me feel things. Things that I’d much rather not. 

“Yeah, ‘s one in tha mornin’.”

“Shitttt,” she sighs, sitting up fast. Her growing locks pour over her shoulders covered by a crewneck jumper. Faded pictures of balls from different sports are scattered across the heather gray fabric. Like something my dad wore when I was a tot. “You have your case tomorrow.”

“‘m fine, I already dropped me stuff off at tha hotel an’ got me key,” I tell her, missing the warmth of her against me. And I miss the fact in those words alone of what I’m missing. Her in my arms. “But ya should prolly get sum sleep, too. Seems like ya’ve been missin’ it lately.”

“I’m okay, just lots of homework,” Becky says, running her long fingers through her wavy hair. 

“‘d offa me hotel room, but ‘s half an hour ‘way in Wolverhampton. An’ there’s only tha one bed,” I tell her, unsure of why. I blame it on the sleepy brain. 

“Thanks, but I’m okay. I’ll just sleep on the couch in his room. It’s not too bad once you get used to it,” she assures me. Her arms crack as she stretches them toward the ceiling. I can’t help myself when the baggy jumper rides up, exposing the slightest of her milky white tummy. Fuck. But just like that, it’s gone in a flash. If only my feelings worked that way. 

It’s like she has some sixth sense that I’m thinking about her, because her eyes cast over to me. It’s hard to make out their ocean blue in this dark, but I know they’re there. I can picture them if I need to, because I do it all the time - trying to make myself remember what they look like. The exact shade. The speckles of darker blue amongst the color. 

“Yer welcome,” I return. The tired smile I get in return melts my insides like butter. But that’s how I feel when I’m around her, and that’s how much of a hold she’s got on me. 

Shocks of electricity dance across the back of my hand. I don’t need to look down to know her hand is on top of mine. And how it’s making me go crazy. She’s only a few inches away. I could do it. Before I stop myself, I begin to lean in, and she watches me do it. But with only a few seconds left, we jump apart at the sound of a ringtone. 

Embarrassment covers me like a dark cloud, among other nasty emotions. My head falls, hiding the heat rising to my cheeks. Pulling out my phone to distract myself, it doesn’t do that great of a job as I hear her talk to somebody on the phone. Dammit, I was so close. With a hand in my hair, I scroll through emails. Deleting some and saving others. 

“Sorry, that was Robbie. Just checking in, since I forgot to update him, I guess,” Becky tells me, lifting my head with her voice. 

My head only goes up and down, avoiding eye contact. Because I can’t muster it after what just happened, or what didn’t. 

“‘s late, ya should get sum rest,” I announce, getting to my feet. Picking up my coat, I slip it on before I dare to look at her.

She smiles shyly at me, sleep hanging around her eyes. Even rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her jumper is precious. And her legs jittering in her faded blue jeans. Vans the shade of her favorite color donning her feet. 

“Yeah, you too,” is all she has to say.

Suddenly, I don’t know what to do. For a mere second, I entertain the thought of trying again. But fuck it, she’s so far away right now, figuratively and literally. I can catch a hint of her scent sticking to me, and it makes me sad to realize. 

“Go get sum sleep, ‘kay?” Are the only words I can think of as I walk up to her and pat her arm. 

“Yeah, you too, Harry. Careful driving.”

“Thanks, Becks, I will. Sweet dreams, love,” I mutter, looking at her over my shoulder. 

And I keep walking, and leave her behind. Regrets coursing through my ears, and emotions tugging at my seams. The tiredness coating my every thought and action, only make it all the worse. I’m not sure if I want to wake up more for the car drive to the hotel, because then it will all feel even more real. And discouraging. 

“Harry?” stopping in my tracks, I hear her call my name. Spinning around, I feel her before I see her. Her arms surround around my waist and her head comes to lay against my chest. All within seconds. “Thank you . . . for coming.”

A pain sounds in my chest when I hear the emotion in her voice. And it takes all of me to not echo it, because I know I could. And that I would. Instead I say, “Yer welcome, Becks,” and I do at least one thing I wanted to do tonight. Dipping my head, I smooth down her hair and press my lips to her hair for more than a few seconds. 

The sweet smell of orange blossom greets me, and my smile is havoced by pain. Her warm breaths tickle the skin at my neck as my hands lace together at the small of her back. Her arms squeeze me around the middle before releasing, and she lets go of me. I think about trying again, but the thought is fleeting when she begins to walk away from me. 

And I let her do it. Once again. 

+

The burbling of the running water fills my ears. Well, besides the sound of the football match. Surprise, surprise. And the next sound. His cheering. It makes me smile as I wipe my hands with a paper towel. 

“What’s the score now?” I ask, walking back into the room. His eyes don’t go to me at the question, instead they remain on the screen. 

“Six-two. It doesn’t look too good for ‘em,” my dad replies snarkily, a devilish glint in his eyes. But it’s there, and that’s all that matters. It’s what makes the smile stick to my face. 

“Don’t let your food get cold,” I say, bending over to dig into my backpack. 

“I’m done eating. You can have the rest, Ree,” he replies just as I feel the smooth handle I’m searching for.

“I’m okay, thanks. I was probably going to check out the special in the cafe.”

“Oh so only I have to eat the hospital food?” my dad whines, pouting at me when I look at him. 

With a laugh, I remark, “I’m eating their food in the cafe too, you dork.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry, chemo brain,” he replies, tapping a finger against his head. A striped green hat keeping it warm. His arm returns to the white blanket pulled up to his waist. Light shines in his eyes and his arms lift into the air when they make yet another goal. 

Whoops and hollers leave his chapped lips. But this morning, they’re pinker. And so is his skin. If only in the slightest, I notice them. Running the brush through my knotted hair, I yawn as I watch him. A patterned hospital gown covers his upper half, with the sleeves just coming to above the IVs in his left arm. Fluids and meds. The antibiotics. Yippee. 

But the thoughts are mulled over when I look to his plate sitting on the moveable tray beside him. It was scrambled eggs, toast, applesauce, and milk this morning. And he ate nearly half of it, even if it took about half an hour. But I want to blame part of that on the football match his eyes are stuck to. 

“I’m going to see if I can find your doctor. I had a question,” I tell him, dropping my hairbrush back into my backpack. 

“Ree, don’t worry about it. He’ll come by later,” my dad insists, but I stand from my chair regardless of his answer. 

“It’s fine. I need to stretch my legs anyways.” 

He hums a reply I can’t decode, but I hear his teasing about blocking the telly when I walk by. Over my shoulder, he flashes me a small smile before returning to yelling lazily at the referees. Nurses and doctors pass me, going to and from rooms to the nearby nurse’s station. Tucking a strand of wet hair behind my ear, I search for the shock of white hair of my dad’s doctor. 

But no such luck. 

As I approach the nurse’s station, sounds of beeping, call lights, and murmuring voices fill the air. But another sound stands out from the rest. And I hear my name, or well my last name. It takes me a second to locate where it’s coming from, but when I do there’s a flutter in my chest. And I know I’m in trouble, or maybe that I’m just realizing it now after all of this time. 

But I don’t save him right away, and instead I observe. Confusion sews his eyebrows together over those misty green eyes. One lone curl tickles his forehead, breaking free from his damp hair. His black peacoat is draped over his arm clad in a warm violet blazer. A dusty rose button down peeks out from its collar, and I smile. I don’t even know why. But as the seconds tick by watching him talk to the nurse, I think I know why. 

“Looking for me, Styles?” I pipe up, stepping forward with my hands hidden away in my hoodie.

Harry’s eyes fall from the nurse and pan over to me. A lazy smile works its way onto his face quickly, only interrupted to thank the nurse. 

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, turning to walk towards me. 

“What are you doing here? You have your case today, you said,” I respond, playing with the sleeve of my black hoodie. The cracked decal of Robbie’s old band covers the front. 

“Came t’ bring ya out t’ brekky. Me case doesn’t start ‘til tha aftanoon, bug,” he responds with half of a smile, pinching my arm affectionately. And there’s that nickname, again, I think as my insides turn to mush. “Well jus’ down t’ tha cafe if tha’s alright. I saw sumthin’ ‘bout biscuits ‘n gravy, an’ sumthin’ smelled mighty delicious when I came in.”

“That sounds great,” I say, a smile inching its way up my lips. The wet ends of my hair knock against each other, and my chin. “I’ll just let my dad know,” I tell him, turning around to walk away. 

But after only a few steps, a sudden thought brings me to halt. It wills my feet to turn around and look at Harry. “Would you like to meet him?” I ask tentatively in a meek voice. “He’s doing a little better this morning, but I think that’s thanks to the Arsenal match on the telly.”

With what appears to be a shaky smile, he replies, “‘d love t’. Hope ‘s not me Manchester United boys playin’ ‘gainst ‘em.”

Waving a hand towards me, he closes the distance between us. His leather boots squeak from the last bits of melting April snow. It’s only a few moments before I peek my head into his room, and low and behold, he’s still transfixed by the match. 

Rapping my knuckle against the door, I get his attention before saying, “Hey, can I steal you away from your precious game for a few? There’s a friend of mine I’d like you to meet.”

“Yeah, sure,” he responds, adjusting his blankets before the telly’s volume falls. Over my shoulder, I shoot Harry an encouraging smile. He returns it, but I can see the nerves showing through. 

Pushing open the door fully, I walk in and he follows from behind. 

“Dad, this is Harry Styles. My uh, former boss I’ve told you about,” I fumble for words, giving a magician-like wave to him. Well, the right words. “He stopped by last night and brought me dinner. He has a case today in Wolverhampton, and we’re going to get breakfast downstairs before.”

A weary smile curls at the corners of my dad’s lips. Nodding, his dusty pink lips part, “Ah, so this is the fella you were with until all hours last night,” he jests, pulling nervous laughter into the air. “Yes, it’s about time we met. I’ve heard a lot about you, son. Thanks for everything you’ve done for Becky, and for your well wishes. It’s meant a whole damn lot to me, and I know for her too.” 

Okay, dad, let’s not board the emotional bus yet. Or maybe, ever.  

Happy laughs float around the room as Harry steps forward, rubbing hand sanitizer into his hands. “‘s a pleasure t’ meet ya as well, sir,” he rasps, reaching out to shake my dad’s hand firmly. 

“Call me Chuck, Harry. I’m not that old yet, although sometimes it feels that way,” my dad jokes, widening the smiles on all of our faces.

“Yes, ‘course, Chuck. I’ve also heard loads ‘bout ya, all good things, so no worries. Ya’ve been in me prayers an’ thoughts ova tha last 7 months. Sure raised a great daughter, ya should know.” 

A permanent smile warms my cheeks as I shyly look over to Harry. He meets my eyes and smiles back at me. Winking, he shove his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Thank you, son. That’s mighty good to hear, although I’m not too sure about that son of mine sometimes,” he laughs, soon getting a scoff from me. 

“Oh I mean Robbie, too. I’ve only met tha bloke once or twice, but I was impressed. Certainly since I was surprised t’ find out Becky hadda twin,” Harry comments, his eyes burning a hole into my cheek. 

“Yes, I think I’ve heard that story. Their mother and I were pretty surprised to find there was two, also,” he chuckles. “But Ree likes to do that sometimes.”

Shaking my head, I look away and to the Spring sunshine. It seeps in through the cracks in between the window shades. Their soft laughs fill my ears before Harry’s voice does again. 

“Yeah she’s a spitfire, alright,” he comments, and finally I meet his smirking eyes before they return to my dad. “But ‘m glad t’ hear yer doin’ a bit betta. Hopefully they can get a good handle on dis soon, an’ you lot can go home.”

“Thank you. We hope so too,” my dad nods, running his thumb along the buttons of the tv remote. “I truly appreciate you taking the time to be here with Becky . . I know it means more than words to her.” 

Looking away to the floor, his words find the chink in my armor. I feel the lump rise in my throat along with memories of last night. Luckily, the tears stay away and I get away with it. 

“‘Course, ‘m glad I was able t’ come an’ be with her. Dunno if she told ya, but she was there fer me when my grandad was in tha hospital befo’ he passed. An’ well, I know how much it means t’ ‘ave sumbody there,” Harry murmurs, almost giving a reason for the tears to make an appearance. But they don’t, and I’m repeating ‘thank yous’ inside of my head. 

“I’m pretty proud of my little Rebecca Ann, and it only grows more every day,” my dad comments, flitting his eyes over to me. His words make my cheeks tingle with a new blush and because I know another pair are on me, too. 

“Yeah, she makes it ratha easy,” Harry agrees softly, pulling my attention to him. The gentlest smile sits atop his lips, and a sad sweetness twinkles in his eyes. 

“Well, we’ll let you get back to your match. We’re going to grab breakfast before everybody else gets the same idea,” I pipe in, unsure of when and how to sever the moment. But the look in Harry’s eyes does something to me, and I don’t know what to do with it. 

We exchange short goodbyes before I’m following Harry out of the room. The rising volume of the football announcers voices send us on our way. 

“Rebecca Ann, huh?” Harry smiles beside me, the nurse’s station in our rearview mirrors. 

“Go ahead and make jokes about it. It doesn’t even sound like my name, I don’t know. I’ve only ever went by that for forms, when I got in trouble, or like on the first day of school and graduation. And the Ann is just my middle name, I don’t have a two parter,” I explain hurriedly, surprising myself when I don’t hear one of his delightful giggles. Tearing my eyes away from the poster at the end of the hallway, I look to him. And he isn’t laughing, which confuses me. 

“There’s no jokes t’ be had. I think ‘s pretty, yer name. Figured ya were a Rebecca, but wasn’t sure. Nor did I know yer middle was Ann. Tha’s my mum’s name, ‘ve always loved it,” he tells me, coming to a stop in front of the gunmetal colored doors of the lift. The sickeningly sweet look on his face sends the butterflies in my tummy to flight. Again.

“Oh thanks,” I almost blurt, pressing the button to go down. But then as we step into the welcoming lift, more come to me. “It was my grandmother’s name. It always made me feel closer to her, like I always had a piece of her with me.”

“Tha’s nice. ‘ve always liked it when parents carry on family names like dat. It makes me think ‘d like t’ do tha same with me own kids one day,” Harry continues as I watch the doors shut, cutting us off from the rest of the world. If only for a few minutes. But still. 

“Me too.”

“So nobody ever calls ya Becca?” Harry inquires, catching my attention. 

“Eh, not really. Maybe Skye sometimes, and my grandma Ann did, but not much anymore.”

“Hmm maybe ‘ll hafta use it then,” he quips, but then he wears a confused smile he pulled out of thin air. “Eh I dunno, actually. Ya’ll always be me Becks,” he finishes, making my heart do a dance. And fueling the angel and demon having a party inside of my head. 

“Yeah, I agree. Anything else would sound weird.”

“Ya look like ‘im, ya know. Tha eyes, tha hair, and tha shape o’ yer face - bloody spitting image ya are. ‘Specially Robbie,” Harry acknowledges.

“We get that a lot, but thanks, I like to hear it. Sometimes I can’t see it, though,” I recall. “Which parent do you look like?”

“Um, dunno. I get comments ‘bout lookin’ like both o’ me parents. I guess I mostly ‘ave people say I look like me dad with sum o’ my mum’s features. Which sounds wild.”

“Yeah, I can relate with people saying I look like my dad. It’s like, oh thanks for saying I look like a boy,” I laugh. Turning to look at him on my left, a small one sputters from his smiling cherry lips. 

“I know, ‘s weird.”

“I can see it, though. How people think you look like him,” I tell him. When I watch his lips settle into a silent, straight line, I feel instant regret. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?”

“No, ‘s okay. Jus’ hard hearin’ people say ya look like sumbody ya don’ like.”

A small ‘oh’ passes over my lips before I can stop it. My eyes leave him and go to the changing red number above my head. Words bubble up inside of me, and I tell them to stop. But then I can’t. 

“I think I know how you feel,” I murmur, daring to look over at him, her face flashing in my mind. His far away eyes lift from the floor and pan over to me. 

I try not to lose myself in their infinity of green, but it’s worthless. And soon I am, and thoughts of last night leak from my memories. 

I know it’s at the back of his mind too. That almost kiss. The one he tried to initiate, and the one I want so bad. Five months ago, I don’t know if I would’ve. But now in this moment and in this elevator, all alone with him, I couldn’t want something more. 

Or somebody. 

#the assistant #pa harry #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #chaptered fic #boss harry #ceo harry #lawyer harry #harry styles au #harry au #lawyer au #personal assistant #assistant au #wattpad #fan fic #writing #my writing #keep

[cinnaminsvga]

A Boy Like You Preview | Yoongi

→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.

{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff → warnings: an overabundance of shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to squish his cheeks; kinda ooc but it is what it is don’t murder me!!! → words: anticipated 15k (?) → a/n: it’s like so fucking late rn and i have a midterm to study for but you know what....... you know what....... sometimes you gotta write blushy yoongi to make yourself forget that you are a poor college student whose boss just cut your work hours in half, so yea!!!!!! here’s whatever this is

There is a boy you know who likes to show his kindness quietly. It would go something like this:

The air is thick with static; your hair stands up on end: a warning. The scent of raindrops hitting hot pavement graces your nostrils as a waterfall drops from the sky. You see the sea of heads begin to disappear under a canopy of multi-colored umbrellas. You, the lone ranger, rush back into the building from whence you came, dragging puddles and annoyance with you.

You should have anticipated it, should have thought to check the weather app before scrolling through dull social media posts when you left your house that morning. Instead, your fingers are cold and umbrella-less.

You tilt your head upwards, watching as gallon upon gallon fell from the sky in an endless cycle. The watch on your wrist reads 5 PM, but the sky says it is 9 PM. The dark, swirling mass of clouds above you will continue on its thunderous parade, pausing for no one, especially not for you.

Your work bag is practically weightless, devoid of anything that might protect you from the onslaught of rain. The only thing inside is a small wallet that holds nothing more than dust and a loose promise of a paycheck. There is no way you can call a taxi like this, and the nearest bus stop is at least two blocks away. You are starting to think that your childhood dreams of becoming a mermaid hadn't been so ridiculous after all.

Then comes the hand of God. It touches your shoulder gently, hesitantly. You turn around to face a stranger, a boy with shaggy black hair and pale moonlight skin. It is not God, but he comes close.

In his other hand is your salvation wrapped in Kumamon print nylon. It is proffered to you with a silent nod, his gaze fixed somewhere behind you as he waits for you to take it. The tips of his ears begin to redden the longer it takes for you to respond. Eventually, your brain connects with your muscles as you robotically pluck the umbrella from his grasp, a stuttered "thanks" leaving your lips.

He nods stiffly once more, removing his palm from your shoulder as though he had been burned. He shuffles for a moment, mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to say. You wait, patience never waning for the strange boy that you have come to know as your salvation.

He doesn't find the words, after all. You aren't too offended by his silence, but he appears to be mortified. And so, he leaves just as quickly as he had appeared, like a whirlwind dressed in an oversized blazer flapping behind him like wings. He runs through the rain without another thought, an arm raised above his head in a futile attempt to avoid the rain.

You try calling out to him, wanting to thank him once more and maybe to ask how you could return his umbrella, but he is long gone. A speck of black dashing through the gray.

You clutch the umbrella closer to you, a feeling of something new growing inside of you. It is too small to call anything, but it is warm. 

———

Umbrella boy has a name, and he happens to work on the same floor as you. You know this because he is standing right in front of you in all his bespectacled glory.

He ducks out of view the moment your eyes meet his. There is a stack of folders in his arms, and he bows his head until his nose touches manila. It's too late––he knows you caught him staring. He scurries behind walls of filing cabinets and desk cubicles, desperate to get back to his desk where he hopes you'll never find him.

The office floor is large, but it is not large enough to hide in. It takes only a few minutes until you find him hunched over his desk, every inch of space taken by enough towers of paper to cover a forest. It is no wonder that you never encountered your mysterious umbrella boy; he does a wonderful job of blending in. 

Your eyes trail his form, not out of any perverse intent, but just out of curiosity. You never would have guessed from his unassuming and meek nature, but the boy is devastatingly beautiful. The devil is in the details: you admire the soft slope of his nose to the adorable pout of his lips. His eyelids are charmingly mismatched and his cheeks are begging to be pinched. It takes a year’s worth of self-restraint to keep your hands at your sides, if only so you don’t scare him away before you can even introduce yourself. 

(You can already imagine your HR department contacting you about nonconsensual manhandling... You admit that you tend to get overzealous with your affection, especially when confronted with cute things. This boy would definitely need to watch out for you if he knows what’s best for him.)

((Also note to self: Stop having these psychopathic conversations with yourself. Being stuck inside the cage which is your brain is torture enough, so let’s not encourage it to get worse.))

There is a lanyard laced around his neck, the gaudy orange color of your company’s logo emblazoned across the thin material. And just out of your line of sight, you catch a glimpse of his ID. His name is––

“Y-Y/N?” He stutters out–no–he squeaks. Ah, so he’s noticed you. The folder in his hand slips out of his grasp, an avalanche of white tumbling all over his lap. He curses loudly, frantically sweeping away the mess under his desk, as if he could somehow magically make them disappear if he just kicked them hard enough. Unfortunately, the papers stay stubbornly tangible, and he is left with a halo of accounting reports around his workspace.

“Are you… umm…” You hesitate with your words, fearing that any sudden movement on your part might cause umbrella boy to combust on the spot. “Do you need help… picking those up?”

“I–Well, no–Yes, but–” His sentences are stilted, his brain struggling to catch up with his tongue. He clamps his mouth shut, then shakes his head like he’s trying to reboot himself. Finally, after a few more deep breaths, he goes, “No. I’m fine. Thank you for offering.” He says that, but he appears awfully content with staring holes into the keyboard of his laptop when he is speaking to you though. 

“Still… I’m terribly sorry for startling you,” you say, lips tugging downwards into a frown. You should have guessed he was skittish from how he had acted yesterday, but it’s quite a surprise to see one man so… disastrous, for lack of a better term. It’s awfully cute. “I just wanted to properly introduce myself and thank you for lending me your umbrella yesterday, but it seems like you already knew who I was.”

His face does a weird thing then and there. It almost appears like he was caught in a time loop, like someone was manually reversing and replaying his facial expressions like a video. It takes a few minutes for his little stroke to settle down, but even then, his cheeks remain a rosy pink. “I–I just… remembered your name during the company retreat the other month. I’m not weird or anything, I swear!”

“Well luckily, I was never going to accuse you of being weird anyway!” You laugh, trying to ease the perpetual look of anxiety on his face. However, it only seems to worsen his nerves with how quickly his skin starts to redden. “In fact, I should be apologizing for not remembering your name, Mister..?”

“Min Yoongi,” he replies, pausing for a second too long. He must have realized his delay because he coughs awkwardly into his forearm, averting his face away from you in a futile attempt to become nothing more than an abstract thought. 

He must be equipped with some sort of superpower, because you’re starting to feel his secondhand embarrassment flood through you like a tsunami. Are you that difficult to converse with? Does he want to be left alone so badly that he’s trying to subtlely tell you to fuck off? 

You’re about to start apologizing and scurry off back to your desk in barely concealed mortification when Yoongi clears his throat, his gaze fixed somewhere to your right. Whatever caught his attention must have been revolutionary with how large his eyes are, although last you remember is that the wall behind you is the same dull jailcell gray that you have come to know and hate. 

“I just… I’m sorry if I’m acting odd right now. I just wasn’t expecting you to come to my cubicle and I would’ve... I don’t know, tidied up? If I knew you were coming,” he mutters, propping his glasses back up when they start sliding down his nose. They make their slow descent back down immediately after, forever on an endless cycle of up and down his face. 

“You don’t have to clean up just for me! I’m not your manager or anything,” you say, surveying the absolute disaster zone that is his workspace. For his benefit, you sure hope that he has a map of his desk and filing cabinets, as it would have been a miracle otherwise if he memorized where anything was located in his personal office sty. “Though, it would be nice if you could see the bottom of your desk every once in a while.”

To your immense surprise, Yoongi lets out a resounding laugh at your quip. Though Yoongi isn’t a mute by any means, it isn’t like he spoke with much volume either. You hadn’t even thought your joke was funny enough to deserve a strained Caucasian™️ smile, so you appreciate that he had considered that you were even slightly funny. You love the pleasant tinkling of his laughter, so genuinely joyous that you can’t help but want to make a fool of yourself just so you can hear it again and again. 

When Yoongi stops, the familiar reddish hue that has made a home on his cheeks resurfaces, though it’s less from embarrassment now. His shoulders are more relaxed, and he doesn’t look like he wants to crawl out of his skin as much. He still has eyes averted away from you, however. “Sorry. I don’t know why I laughed too hard at that. I’m normally not this weird… I think it’s just the nerves.”

You cock your head to the side. “Nerves? From what?”

Yoongi freezes, mouth gaping open slightly. “I, umm…” He coughs into his white button-up sleeve, pupils shaking as he formulates a response. “Just from… work. Yeah, I just have a lot of paperwork to do this week and I’ve been, er, having difficulty relaxing.”

Yoongi visibly relaxes when you accept his flimsy excuse, not really lingering on the validity of his statement. “Oh, sure! Don’t overwork yourself too much, okay?” you say, smiling sweetly back at him. He stares, wide-eyed, not really sure how to go on with his life after he’d been blasted by the full force of your grin. 

God, you hope you remembered to use a toothpick during lunch. Was there spinach in your teeth? Oh fuck.

“Gah,” he intones, his brain not fully cooperating with his mouth just yet. If you were any more socially inept, you’d probably be doing the same. Eventually, he clears his throat and tries again. “Uh. Yes. I’ll try to do better next time.”

#my wips #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts reader insert #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi imagines #LISTEN I KNOW I SAID I'D POST FOX RAIN 4.5 AND I WILL #I JUST..... OVERESTIMATED MYSELF AND I THOT I'D FINISH EARLIER THAN EXPECTED #WELL!!!!!!! JUST ANOTHER DAY OF ZEE FUCKING UP AND WRITING SOME OTHER BULLSHIT INSTEAD LOL

[scullyy]

Crying Isn’t Like You

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 2047

Summary: By sheer luck, Louis is able to fall asleep for the first time in days, but within his dreams lies a visitor he doesn't want to face just yet.

A/N: So this is based off an ask I received (from an anon) asking for a fic where Louis and Clem tell either one that they're both in love with each other, yet I put an angsty twist on it ahehehehe...also can you tell that I was inspired by Billie Eilish's song 'I Love You'.... and yes there is a Life is Strange reference in here, I've been replaying it recently. I’ve been having a rough go around lately, so writing this helped clear out my current feelings. Enjoy :))

-

Nothing had really changed.

Ruby continued to tend to her greenhouse, her fingertips tender from lifting bags of freshly dug dirt. Being near Miss Martin's grave wasn't as easy as it used to be, now it stood as a symbol for two people.

Aasim kept to his journal most of the time, jotting down everything that had happened since; being kidnapped, their narrow escape,  the sound of his heart breaking in his chest when the kid came back empty-handed. It all clung to the dirty pages, emptying up some space in his head.

Violet had the bright idea of using Rosie as a guide dog of sorts. If she ever needed to travel out of the school grounds, the brave dog was right by her side, warning of her of any dangers. A pirate and her first mate.

The kids continued life as they had before, a time where the threat of raiders didn't weigh down every action or thought. None of them brought up their missing link, the empty space on the edge of the table. There was nothing to be said.

Especially not in front of Louis.

His heart had fallen into the very pit of his stomach when AJ recounted what had happened, "She...She's gone. I tried to help but it was too late." It was ground-breaking enough to see him return to the school on his own. He was hoping for it to be a lie, that she would miraculously emerge from nowhere and sweep up the pieces of his heart. Instead, it became a horrible truth.

There was no more singing, no more laughter erupting from him. His days began and ended with dismal chores, whatever needed fixing he would fixate on, whoever needed helping he was there, keeping himself focused on one thing and one thing only. If he let his mind wander it always settled onto people he was tired of missing. The days dragged on, beating down against him. The nights were no better, outlandish dreams tormented him with a promise of what could have been, whilst the others slept Louis found himself always teetering on the edge of it.

This just happened to be one of his more difficult nights.

His cold palms flattened against the heavy bedsheet. If it were up to him, he would bundle himself up and hide away like a bat within its cave. He truly would, had it not been for the small boy sleeping soundly across from him, the only real form of motivation he had. Louis buried himself beneath the fuzzy blanket, inhaling the musk that clung onto the fabric.

"Her head should be lying here-"

Fuck. Another intrusive thought to add to the mix. Clementine always took up space in his head, their first meeting was one of the more popular ones. Another was of her, alone in the barn in whatever state AJ left her in. That one played on like a broken record, scratching his nerves and pick-pocketing him of the good memories.

Louis took in slow, deep breaths, choosing to focus on the crickets outside. Their harmonised chirping interfered his delusions, bringing him a moment of peace. His shivering body fell into the mattress as he drifted away to the land where dreams were made. This darkness didn't have a name, it merely crept into their rooms, sending them elsewhere.

As Louis carefully opened his eyes, he flinched at the sudden change in scenery. No longer was he confined beneath his bedsheets, but rather caught within his very own piano room. The soft rays of the moon gave the room a soft glow, but his eyes could only make focus of what was right in front of him. And God did it send his blood cold.

He felt out of place, even within her sudden presence, the one place he would feel safe in.

"You're not dead, that's good."

Her contagious smile pulled him back into the moment. Clementine slowly scooched over on the stool, leaving an obvious place for him. She acted so casually, one leg hooked over the other with her arms leaning against the piano. There was a guilty smile on her face as she noticed his horrified expression. "So...hey there."

Before both of them had realised, Louis had swooped her up into his arms. No longer did he feel heavy or empty, her presence illuminated something inside him, just as she had always done. "You're really here!" His call echoed right in her ear, not that she minded. Louis fell onto the stool, yet his hands remained clasped around her thin shoulders.

She definitely looked cleaner. A healthy glow now emitting from her cheeks, what was once dirt and blood was now replaced by very faint freckles. Each one kissed her face. Her hat had been rejuvenated, there were no more stains and the D had been patched back up. "I really am, figured this room would be nice to meet in, given what happened here." Clementine winked like the devil. A devil Louis would gladly sell his soul to.

He blinked back tears as their carving came into view, it was blurry to his eyes but it was there. No doubt about it. "This is where it all started, without sounding too dorky," Louis tried to laugh but it came out in pieces. The longer he looked at her the further he fell into pieces. "This is a dream, isn't it?"

Slowly, Clementine nodded, crushing his hopes. "At least I can still see you. I'm...I'm sorry it turned out this way."

She was apologising? "Why are you sorry? You dyi-you being gone isn't your fault." Louis moved both his hands down to her own, ignoring the chill that emitted from them.

"There's just so much I wanted to tell you, I thought we would have had more time," She had so many plans for the future with him and everyone else at the school. None of them had been forgotten, their silly chats of building houses and futures in whittling. "You were right, there is only one guarantee."

Louis's heart and brain were racing on two different tracks with two different outcomes. "Tell me now then, I can't stay asleep forever." This was the closest that they had to a future now, these brief dreams.

Clementine pushed his hair away from his face, he had once been nothing short of a pure ray of light. Now he had fallen too far into the darkness, it took him away from everyone. His blood-shot eyes were almost unrecognizable. "I...shit, I thought this would have been easy," She closed her eyes before taking the plunge. "I love you, Louis."

His hands fell limp, along with nearly every other part of his body. He wanted her to take it back, soak up her own words, let it be known it was just a joke. Louis looked towards the window, wondering just how much longer this nightmarish moment would last. "You don't mean it. You're not even real." Louis scoffed, choosing to let nothing change between them. She was gone, a cruel figment of his childish imagination. She was dead without so much as a goodbye. That was how it was and how it should have remained.

Clementine inched even closer to him, their hips now touching. Her soft glow was now spilling onto his thigh. "Listen to me," Her smooth hands gently pawed at his cheek, forcing their eyes to meet. "Wherever I end up after this, those moments between us were real and they'll always be ours." Her thumb brushed away his endless tears that were now spilling down like a waterfall, she wanted to soak it up and protect him, give him whatever was required to make him smile again.

He fell apart in her arms as the moon moved ahead, leaving them together with the darkness. There was nothing else she could say to change the fact that their time was diminishing. "Clem," Her skin burned his own as their foreheads collided. Louis could only compare the tight grip over his lungs to drowning and that was putting it lightly. "You know that..that I love you too."

She knew, she always knew. He managed to say it to her without using words, just the way he spoke her name was enough to show to anyone how high he carried her in his heart. Clementine tried her best to smile for him. "I know," They remained in each other's embrace till the dimly-lit sun crept over the horizon, sneaking in through the broken window. "Time to go Lou."

Louis gripped onto her jacket tighter, desperate to keep her by his side. "I don't want to, not yet." His pleas fell upon deaf ears as she pushed his arms away. Immediately he fell cold again, her body had left him just as quickly as the two came together.

"It's alright, you know where to find me," Clementine gestured to the piano, their special spot. She would have gladly spent the rest of her life in that room, listening to her lover play whatever song he could remember from his youth or what his irresistible imagination could create. Neither could escape their feelings, their natural pull towards each other. Neither party wanted to anyways. "Oh, tell AJ that I'm proud. He's got a great family looking out for him now." Clementine glided out of the door like smoke, and just like smoke, she refused to fade away.

Louis felt his eyes droop to the ground, arms falling back to his side like a broken ragdoll. He began to fall into the piano, yet never hitting it. The world began to fall apart, the sunlight breaking apart into glowing clouds. He wanted to bleed into them, to stay in this magical place that only he could travel to during sleep.

"Louis?"

The jittery man briefly opened one eye, his new room replacing the sight of his dream. Leaning over him was AJ, the small boy rubbing his eyes furiously. "You were talking in your sleep again," He mumbled.

Louis slowly reached out and touched the wall, his fingertips scaling the Ericson flag that he thought was lost forever. "Sorry kiddo, did I wake you?" He noticed the dark circles beneath AJ's wide eyes. Both of the boys knew that sleep was both a tormenter and a peacemaker all in one, it was the world's craziest game of Russian Roulette.

"No, I was already awake, couldn't sleep," AJ admitted. Sleep was for the weak, there were other people who needed protecting. He didn't want to stand by as his close friends were in danger, of what exactly remained shrouded in mystery.

Louis's heart reached out to the kid, his bond with Clementine was something Louis never had the pleasure of obtaining during his life and was likely to never encounter. It was special and oddly moving, to see two unrelated people so willing to sacrifice anything for the other. "C'mere," Louis moved closer to the wall, leaving behind just enough space for a small child. "I know she did the same for you, it might help us both sleep."

AJ showed didn't question it, immediately he hopped underneath the covers, his grimace being replaced by a still smile. "Goodnight Louis." He whispered before settling down, his eyes closed willingly. For the first time in days, AJ fell asleep peacefully.

Louis stared at the top bunk as his memories threw out images of her smile, the dip in her eyebrows whenever they were crossed, the scar that peaked out beneath her sleeve. Everything about her was enchanting. His mind was at rest, knowing that together they learned to fly. Nothing could erase their shared past, not even a lost future.

#twdg #the walking dead game #the walking dead game season four #twdg clementine #twdgs4 #twdg louis #clouis #louisentine #clem x louis #twdg season 4 #angst #fanfiction #xscullyx

[lesbianmonsterlover]

Waterfalls and Whirlpools (4)

Urzash isn’t sure what she’s expecting when she wakes up, imprint of ink on her forearm from where she crashed on top of the journal.  She isn’t particularly surprised when there’s no return message, magic can be a fickle and finicky thing after all.  She does feel a pang of disappointment though at the thought that perhaps her delay in replying had cost her the opportunity to continue communicating with this Erin.  After a quick wash in the basin she joins her companions back downstairs for breakfast.  

“Any word from our strange new companion?”  Alys hands a mead to Urzash and frowns when the orc’s only response is to grumble and shake her head.  “Don’t look so put out, we have no idea how that book even works.” 

“It’s not like we’ve got time to get it checked out anyway, or have we all forgotten about that whole ‘we’re going to kill a dragon’ thing we agreed to last night?  Can we say we’ve all forgotten and pretend that never happened?”  Penny is picking at the wood of the table with a short dagger, pouting like the child she makes herself appear to be.  The halfling is fair, with a button nose and freckles that make her look like an innocent.  Her pigtails are full of bouncy curls and while her clothing is full of hidden pockets (like all good rogues) she still makes sure to disguise herself as a youngling.  After all, who would suspect the innocent, pouting little girl?

“Sorry Pen, ‘m afraid we can’t go back on our word.”  Urzash throws her arm around Penny’s tiny shoulders, squeezing the halfling into her side.  Penny just huffs and shoves uselessly at Ash’s ribs before scowling and crossing her arms, settling comfortably against the Orc’s side.  

“Screw you and your big people logic and your pride and ugh, fine!”  The slam of the halfling’s head on the wood makes Urzash and Alys both break out in peals of laughter.  Lithwe quirks a smile, cocking their head gently at the scene as they gaze on happily.  “Come on then, we’ve got to go visit my father if we’re looking for new arms.  We’ve gotta go in as prepared as possible.  Ice dragon...means we’re going to make sure to use some enchanted weapons.  You’re lucky Ash, with your big scary fire hands.”  Urzash laughs and ruffles Penny’s head at that, making the halfling squawk and swat at her big, green hand.  “Speaking of, shouldn’t someone be here with the front portion of our fee?  If we’re going to be stocking up it should be on their dime.”

Alys nods, glancing out around the room.  “Yes, although with Rolgar’s pride as wounded as it is I fear we may be left waiting until the last moment.  Something tells me he would enjoy seeing us fail.”  The snort Urzash lets out draws the attention of the rest of the group. 

“Sorry Al, just, ‘something’ tells you?  I think he’s as obvious as he can be without being blatant.”  Alys chuckles at that, shrugging a little with a nod.  

“I was attempting to be diplomatic, in case of prying ears.”  Her quirked brow makes Urzash chuckle bashfully and rub the back of her neck, beads clinking.  “I know, quite the thought that people might be listening in a place so private and secluded.”  Alys’ gaze sweeps sarcastically over the crowd at the inn’s tavern even at this hour of the day.  

“Speak of the Devil.”  Penny’s mumble interrupts Urzash and Alys as they finally notice Rolgar.  He’s greeting the bartender, and when he turns to continue over to the group they see what he really looks like after last night’s scuffle in the light of day.  His missing tusk makes Urzash want to smirk, but she bites back the urge and keeps her face in a neutral scowl.  He’s also sporting a swollen cheek on that side that side, mottled an ugly purple and green.  He glares but stomps over, as begrudgingly polite as his ego will allow. 

“Mornin’.”  The crew around the table greets him coolly, and he nods before tossing a heavy pouch of gold and silver coins on the table and leaning in to speak quietly.  “Twenty five hundred up front.  We expect to see you back at Urgaur with the Dragon’s head or not at all.”  Urzash resists the urge to spit at his feet, only nodding tersely before he straightens up and turns on his heel to march back out the door.  

The atmosphere is immediately brighter as soon as he’s gone, conversation picking back up in volume and tone.  Urzash though is still glaring at the door as though she could set him on fire through the thick wood.  “Well, that could have been worse.”  Penny stands abruptly and palms the pouch of coins, downing the last of her tea and stuffing the rest of her scone in her mouth.  She muffles out some approximation of “let’s go get some gear” around the doughy flaky treat and begins to stalk out of the tavern.

“Woah, hold it half-pint.”  Urzash grabs Penny by the hood and picks her up easily, Penny’s legs flailing beneath her as she whines out.  “Come on, let’s give the rest of us a chance to get something in our bellies.  Besides we both know your father won’t be done with his morning for another hour, remember when he left us waiting until half three because you tried to interrupt elevensies?”  Penny huffs and groans like a child, but brightens up when Urzash puts two more scones on her plate along with a healthy dollop of cream and jam.  

If nothing else Penny’s stunt got Urzash out of her funk and back into the usual jovial mood that they all needed before a big quest.  “Fine fine, I know when I’m beat.  When you’re right you’re right.”  Penny happily busies herself preparing her scone to her liking and making another cup of tea.  Urzash is finally presented with her breakfast, a huge plate of sausages and ham, fried eggs, corn cakes, and roasted tomatoes.  Urzash has to swat away the halfling’s hand once or twice, and looks the other way another time or two to ignore a missing chunk or two of meat.

Lithwe is quickly finished with their fruit, happily sipping on tea and watching the rest of the group eat.  Alys is having a plate similar to Urzash’s, although half the size, and by the time the two are finished eating the sun has reached its apex and Penny is starting to get antsy at the thought of trying new weapons.  “Come ooooon, you’ve got to be ready by now.  God, you big people are so slow!”  Penny’s joking resigned tone makes Urzash and Alys laugh.  

“Don’t lump me in with those two brutes.”  Lithwe’s delivery is deadpan as always, but the sparkle behind their eyes betrays their humor.  Penny’s answering giggle and wink as she all but disappears from view only to reappear on the other side of Lithwe away from the other two.  

“Oh I would never!  Us beautiful people have to stick together you know.”  The four walk out of the tavern together laughing and head down the main street of the large settlement.  Penny’s father Carver is a rather well known arms dealer, able to get all sorts of interesting, rare, and enchanted weaponry that others have a hard time getting their hands on.  Even if the origins themselves are...questionable, at best, the weapons are of incredible quality and durability.  

The walk is a short five minutes, and when they walk into the cool air of Claude’s shop they’re greeted by a flurry of fussing from the rather unexpected presence of Penny’s mother Pansy.  “Oh you four are just in time for tea, come in come in, you need to sit.  What brings you here, I thought you lot just got kitted up a few weeks ago?”  As they’re ushered deeper into the shop through a back door to a large table Carver appears from behind a large shelf with a smile and quirk of his brow. 

“I was wondering the same thing, dear.  What brings you lot of mangy mutts back?”  Carver’s tone is as teasing and light as Penny’s, and it puts everyone at ease.  Penny looks green at the gills though, nervous about telling her parents about the current plans.  

“Well, uh, ma, dad, we’ve ah, we got a big, bigbigbig, biiiig job.  Big job.  I mean, huge, heh.  So, ah, we need some...suitably...big...weapons?”  Penny trails off at the stern glare of her mother and confused look of her father.  Urzash and Alys meanwhile are trying to hold in a fit of laughter at Penny’s stressed rambling.  Penny looks pleadingly at the rest of the group for a little bit of assistance, and Alys manages to compose herself.  

“What Penny is trying to say, is we’ve been contracted by Urgaur stronghold to take care of a problem they’re dealing with.  So we’ve got to get weapons appropriate for the issue.”  Penny looks relieved as does Pansy, Carver however is giving Alys and Urzash a shrewd look.  He’s so rarely anything but jovial, even in doling out punishments, so to see him so serious is a little unnerving.   

“Big job and issue, hm?  What ah, what kind of weapons are you guys needing?  I need to know what you’re fighting in order to get you appropriate weapons, yeah?”  Penny blanches and Alys stumbles, making Pansy’s scowl return full force.  “Any reason you look so nervous to tell us, my darling, precious, only child, who I love very much and would hate to lose for any reason?”  Carver has pinned Penny with a look that Penny thought she had been the one to perfect.  The huge doe eyes should be out of place on someone her father’s age, but they just make her gut twist more with guilt.  

Urzash grumbles and runs her hands through her thick, dark hair, worrying at some of the larger beads along the strands.  “A dragon, alright?  I’m sure you’ve heard the news that the villages around Urgaur are dealing with Icewing again and that it’s getting closer to the stronghold as the days go on.  Considering the schedule or rhythm he seems to keep, we think we can get in and lie in wait to strike while he’s vulnerable.”  Pansy gasps and sits back heavily, fanning herself. 

“I’m going...I’m going to faint.  I’m gonna pass out.  Carver, darling, I don’t…”  Carver, for his part, has simply placed his head in his hands and started laughing hysterically.  A worrying reaction to be sure, considerably more concerning than Pansy’s hysterics.  When Carver lifts his head again, the group can see tears streaking down his freckled cheeks, but a look of stony resignation in his eyes. 

“Calm down darling, calm down.  It’ll be alright.  Y’know our girl Pan, she’s made her mind up eh?  Not much we can do now but make sure they’re as ready as they get.”  He sighs, but smiles fondly at the four.  “Come on then, let’s get some tea in you and then we’ll get you kitted.  I think we’ve got something in that you’ll need.”

Pansy, having calmed some, places a platter of cookies and sandwiches on the table and excuses herself to lie down.  Penny goes to join her mother, hoping to at least assuage some of her concerns and leave on a happy note.  Should the worst happen, this isn’t how she wanted their last meeting to go.  Alys and Carver are engaged in a rather lively discussion about the various benefits and drawbacks of her current armor style versus some newer constructions in from Lagrat.  So, Urzash takes this time to recheck the journal. 

She scoffs slightly but smiles at the message neatly penned beneath her own sleepy scrawling.  Easy and safe are not words that anyone would rightly associate with a quest to slay a dragon.  Still, it will be a nice distraction to learn about this US and the beings who inhabited it.  Any country where bandits have ceased to be a scourge to travelers is a good one in her books.  She files the book away to respond later, hopeful that the magic will be open again for her to communicate the way they had been writing back and forth.  For now, it’s important to focus on the task at hand, and that’s arming up to fight a dragon and save the very people who shunned her and made her life miserable.  

It’s an odd feeling, to be so attached to a culture and its people but also hate them for the way that they’ve mistreated you.  Urzash feels that clash daily, proud of her heritage and culture, but also ashamed of herself for being so because her natural ability was apparently something to be derided.  Her family, at least, was welcoming and supportive.  Still, those same people who had once shunned her have now come begging for her help, that natural ability they so reviled suddenly the thing that can save them from their otherwise deadly fate at the maw of an ice drake.  As much as she wishes she could tell them to shove it, to handle it themselves, she can’t.  She cannot, in good conscience, leave them to defend themselves when she and her friends were here and capable.  The money doesn’t hurt, either.  A good chunk of gold and trunk of jewels enough to soothe some wounded pride.  When Penny returns, looking a good bit lighter and happier, Carver stands from his spot at the head of the table.  “Well then, shall we to the armory?”

#waterfalls and whirlpools #WLW #named character #female character #female orc #fantasy #lesbian love #lesbian romance #slow burn #lesbian fiction #exophilia

[inn-o-cencebabes]

He Can Smell It: Prelude

A/N: This is a Thor fic. It’s a bit of established friendship and has mentions of your period. Also, some important notes:

1. This more like Undercover + College AU, so you don't know that Thor is a god and

2. It was hard to write without a name so, you are Mari and Mari is you.

3. I also wrote this super fast so my bad

Anywho, this is for my black girls and yeah.

You could feel the deep stabs of pain ebbing in your hips as you sat in behind the table looking out the window. God how you hated cramps and the Devil’s waterfall. When all was said and done you’d have a bone to pick with old Lucifer himself. You had nothing better to do as you waited in the study room. Today was Thursday, which meant a study session with Thor in preparation for the routine exam for history tomorrow. Thor. An exchange student from Norway that seemingly came with the wind. Time on campus seemed to be split in Pre-Thor and Post-Thor. The way more than half the school suddenly began swooning caused a few laughs between your friends, but you had yet to meet the mystery man. It wasn’t until your history professor sent you an email to help tutor him that it changed.

You sat in some cafe he had picked. You were nervous, and because he was already late, you began to chalk him up as some asshole. Picking your phone up you rechecked the time. Thirty minutes now. What a waste of time I should have-

“Excuse me, are you Lady Amari?” called a voice, deep like rolling thunder.

The giant standing in front of you couldn’t be the same person.

“Thor?” you question back curiously, scrunching your face trying to figure out the juxtaposition.

“Yes. You are Amari?”

“Yeah but everyone calls me Mari” you drag out slowly

“Then Mari you shall be called. I apologize for making you wait so long.”

“It’s fine just make sure it doesn’t happen again or shoot me a text or something.”

It was then that friendship began to bloom between the two of you. Especially when he was confused about how to work the phone he had. You asked him about his lack of understanding about modern technology, only given a reply that he’d come from a small village in the middle of nowhere. You found his curiosity endearing when it came to pop culture and modern amenities, but outside of those two things he was incredibly intelligent in all other subjects. After two sessions he really didn’t need your help anymore but insisted on scheduling more meetings with you. So, instead of talking about the Ashoka, you both sat around helping each other with essays and other assignments. Or, more often, telling the other favorite stories. You both seemed to have a passion for old folktales and mythology. Listening to Thor tell a story was almost like hearing a first-hand account. He always gave vivid depictions that wove together to make a perfect image. You could see everything playing out in your mind’s eye like a movie while you listened to him.

As you continue to reminisce the door opens revealing the devil himself loaded down with gifts.

“I’m assuming those are all gifts from those who would like to court you?” you say with a laugh in your voice

“Yes, there were many how do you say it crushes?”

“Yeah…that’s the right word.”

Several beats pass, and you think nothing of it until Thor speaks again.

“Forgive me if I’m overstepping boundaries but do you have any...potential suitors?”

“Oh,” you’re caught off guard with the question, “no suitors for me.”

You shake your head and try to give a small laugh which comes out sounding more like a scoff.

“Really? Do you already have one?” curiosity lacing his voice

“Nope,” you say popping the p

“You are joking, right? You don’t have a, what is it called… a boyfriend?”

You shake your head laughing at the shock on Thor’s face. You were used to the trauma that came over people when you told them that boys didn’t really look at you, well not like that anyway.

“This is no laughing matter. This is a serious offense I mean you’re incredibly intelligent, goofy, compassionate, selfless and last but not least you’re beautiful, absolutely stunning really, and no one has approached you. This is a tragedy-”

“Thor, you're dramatic. It’s really not that serious” taken aback with the sudden tangent

“No, it is.” the conviction evident in his voice

You sit looking back and forth between his eyes attempting to understand what exactly just happened when a sharp stab rippled through your hips. You wince a bit cause this cramp hurt like a bitch but quickly get yourself together. The face you make though is not lost on Thor.

Thor’s POV

Thor notices the way you scrunch your face and curl into yourself. A quick sniff of the air is all he needs to confirm. Breathing in deep it hits him.

“Fuck. Not again.”

His heart stutters in his chest, and his dick gives a twitch in response.

“Here she is breathtaking in both personality and beauty,” he began to think, “the Norns are truly mischievous in their game.”

To let him learn that no one’s tried to claim you began to stroke a dangerous fire within him. You were desirable no doubt, hearing the whispers about you on campus, floating around him like leaves on the wind. Many lusted after you, wanting to conquer you, in ways that were a little too descriptive for his liking. But now for you to be just there, on the other side of the table achy and fertile, untouched and beautiful, you were a goddess better than that of any he could recall. The Norns were mischievous indeed, and he would have you. He would claim you as his and in turn, let himself be overwhelmed entirely by you. He wants to corrupt you for only himself. He wants you to be possessive of him a little too.  

This would be the last time he would leave you untouched because before the end of your bleeding you would be his. Completely.

#thor x reader #thor x black!reader #black!reader #thor x poc!reader #thor #he can smell it #masterlist #thor/reader

[vylad243]

Morro and Harumi Headcanons.

Might include spoilers? Maybe? I don't know what you've seen.

There may or may not be over a hundred:

• Morro called Harumi 'Jade' instead of 'Princess'

• Harumi calls him 'Breeze' in return

• Morro and Harumi's friendship started because of their hatred of the FSM

• Morro helped reconnect Harumi with her parents when she died

• Morro braids Harumi's hair

• Harumi taught Morro how to dance

• Following a certain theory that I might post soon, Morro and Harumi visit Ninjago to make sure everyone is okay.

• Morro and Harumi greet the bounty every time her op ass dies

• Harumi likes to see how far she can step before she pisses Morro off

• Harumi tries to convince Morro and the FSM to fight all the time

• Harumi will use Morro as a "Date" for dances and parties and such whenever she gets the chance

• Harumi and Morro are constantly sassing each other

• Harumi likes Morro's elemental dragon and she tries to talk him into always having it out.

• Harumi once tried to get Morro to visit his parents in the departed realm but when he kept refusing she gave up, not wanting to push him.

• Morro once called Harumi his cousin and she freaked out, forgetting he was adopted by Wu, he hasn't done it since.

• Harumi called Morro 'Sour Green' once.

• It bothered Morro because there is a colour called 'Lime Green'

• Harumi will walk up to Morro with random rocks and ask him to identify if because he was once a miner and probably knew a lot about rocks

• Harumi found out Morro really like Amethysts and likes to say his favorite colour is purple, which he never denys 🤔

• Harumi likes to watch Morro's and the FSM's arguements and will occasionally eat popcorn during these

• Harumi is a bit afraid of how Powerful Morro is compared to the Ninja

• Morro showed Harumi all the best places in the departed realm and also showed her how to look upon other realms

• Harumi clings to Morro like a bat whenever they past the Great Devourer in the departed realm, the snake is surprisingly chill

• Morro has slight PDST from the cursed realm and Harumi feels useless whenever she watches him slightly freak out when it's mentioned

• Harumi learnt Morro likes hugs.

• She recently learnt only she can hug him.

• No matter how mad Morro gets at Harumi, he'll never let her suffer alone and will always be there when she needs someone

• Harumi hates that she can't help Morro in return though because he doesn't tell her anything, but she doesn't know that just her presence helps him

• Morro strongly recommends avoiding Harumi's adoptive parents in case they snap at her and he knows she's not emotionally prepared for that

• Harumi thinks Morro should get a service dog if they ever permanently stay in Ninjago

• He disagrees with her about that.

• Harumi and Morro get into alot of arguements about his safety once she found out he was actually allergic to a common metal found in alot in caves, hell if I know what it's called.

• Harumi feels like she's become a little too protective over Morro until she remembers the dumb shit he pulls

• Morro think that he's under protective of Harumi

• Morro tried his hardest to hide the fact he's half blind from her, the scar is so close to his eye, and how he moves his head, he feels like she already know, but she hasn't yelled at him yet so he's unsure (My headcanon hiiissssss)

• Harumi likes to call Morro 'Mini-god' and the Bounty 'Big God'

• It really gets him mad, but he loves her to much to say anything about it.

• Harumi likes Horror movies, but won't watch them, mention them, or talk about any near Morro because they scare him to no ends.

• It makes her really curious of what's in the Cursed Realm though.

• Morro likes puns.

• Harumi doesn't

• Morro can sing

• Harumi is mad he never does sing

• Morro can speak so many different languages it's ridiculous. He can speak Oni and Dragon too.

• Harumi want him to teach her, but she hasn't convinced him to yet. In reality she just wants to understand what he's saying half the time.

• Harumi and Morro insult each other every chance they get

• They don't do well separated

• English actually isn't his native language, he just learnt it at such a young age from Wu

• Morro is short and Harumi makes fun of it every chance she gets

• Harumi's favorite colour is actually yellow

• Harumi comes up with the craziest nicknames for him and he can't come up with any good ones, her personal favorite that he gave her was Onyx, but she really likes Jade too.

• Morro insults her in different languages

• Harumi doesnt like the second largest snake either

• Each time Harumi sees Morro cry she tries to cheer him up by saying "It's okay my life sucked too."

• He will passive aggressively say that she died when she was older then fourteen and she'll just hug him.

• Harumi and Morro's favorite spot is the waterfall in the departed realm despite Morro's anxiety with water

• Morro has heterochromia eyes, one green and the other is silver

• Harumi has pretty sky blue eyes

• Harumi and Morro like to insult Misko, the FSM, and Wu.

• They're both pretty socially awkward

• Harumi has tried to get Morro to tie back his hair

• Morro will stay up all night just to watch Harumi and make sure she's doing okay and not having any nightmares while she sleeps

• Harumi loves to sleep

• Harumi doesn't like fire to much, and ironically, Morro doesn't like water

• Harumi likes to lean against Morro

• They actually ignored each other's existence at first

• The first person Harumi saw in the departed realm was a childhood friend of her's

• The first person Morro saw was the FSM

• Yes they immediately got into an arguement

• Morro makes jokes about how Harumi took his plan, but little does he know his plan was the base to Harumi's plan, just different objectives, and outcomes, and boring stuff like that.

• Morro hates sleeping

• Harumi wonders if she would of been sent to the cursed realm despite redeeming herself, she also wonders that about Morro when he died again

• Morro hasn't told anyone that destroying the Cursed Realm was a stupid plan and that all realms use each other as pillars

• He also never said 'I told you so' when Djinjago was destroyed when the Cursed Realm fallen (Is that how you spell it)

• Harumi and Morro usually greet all those who pass into the departed.

• Morro has called the head writer in Cloud Kingdom stupid on multiple occasions

• Morro might be one of the only characters in Ninjago who doesn't have his destiny being written out by the people in Cloud Kingdom (I say this is a might, I'm not sure, but I'm sprinkling some theory juice in here)

• So technically he did prove destiny wrong since he gets to write his own now. (If the above is true)

• Harumi likes it when Morro does her hair

• Morro refuses to let Harumi touch his hair.

• Harumi is a bit jealous of Morro's powers, but that's only because she felt she could save her parents' life if she had them

• Morro would of most likely given Harumi his powers

• Harumi and Morro actually don't talk about Lloyd that much

• Harumi has tried to show Morro how technology works, but he's beyond that stuff.

• He thinks it's stupid, but doesnt care enough to turn back time to make technology never exist

• Morro actually finds a bit of pride being the first ever elemental master that was a villian, he thinks it's nice that it proves you don't have to become what others think you're going to be.

• Harumi thinks it's funny that Morro is kidna cheesy, but she excuses it because of his young age.

• Morro doesn't like being the youngest villian though

• Harumi thinks it's stupid that Wu puts so much pressure on kids

• Morro, despite having huge advantages against the ninja, liked to be fair and give then easier chances to beat him. (Like seriously, dude. You could of just phased through the FSM's shit. You didn't have to play by the rules)

• Harumi doesn't like The Overlord

• Morro questions how when The Overlord died he was sent to the departed realm instead of the Cursed Realm

• Morro never went to school and is purely self-taught, besides the things Wu taught him

• Harumi feel bad about everything she did

• Morro honestly couldn't care less about what he did

• Moror can play a guitar

• Harumi likes to visit Ninjago, she doesn't like how she has to hide everytime she does it though

• Harumi is afraid of what the FSM will do to her and Morro if they keep fighting with him

• Harumi really likes pearls

• Morro wanted to be a doctor when he was younger

• Harumi wanted to be like the Ninja until the Great Devourer Incident

• Morro made Harumi pet the Great Devourer once. He doesn't regret making her do that

• Morro's favorite flower is a lily

• Harumi's is either a Carnation or Devil's Paintbrush

• Morro is slightly irritated that the FSM made a giant snake that consumes everything in it's path and didn't take precautions to make sure it didn't do exactly what it did.

• Harumi will sometimes just agree with whatever Morro says

• Morro used to like the rain

• Harumi likes mysteries

• Morro once asked Harumi if her adoptive parents had kids, would the baby be the ruler because it's actual blood or if Harumi would because's she's the eldest and she was adopted at such a young age

• Harumi didn't know how to answer and said she believed the baby would

• Morro actually likes cuddles, he's just very selective

• Morro used to be friends with that Grundle he threw a stick at. He named it Honey.

• He never told Wu about his very dangerous pet

• Harumi likes sea creatures and the ocean. Again, mysteries

• Morro likes to read and used the read every chance he got

• Harumi asked Morro what it was like being Wu's student and he just pointed to the Great Devourer and walked away. She still doesn't know what that means

• Morro, despite accepting he's Wu's adoptive child, will fight anyone who says he's Wu's son.

• Harumi made one joke about how Morro should of used the water from his second death to help him survive his first death.

• He just responded with "That's not how boiling works"

• Morro likes to stargaze

• Harumi and Morro can both draw

• Harumi and Morro both don't like the idea of the other talking to other people, afraid they're gonna loose their best friend

• Harumi likes to pick grass from the Departed Realm and watch it fade away

• Harumi wants to learn how to play the piano

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And I'm gonna stop now, I need to save some hcs in case I need some more for later xD

#ninjago #headcanons #morro #harumi #morro and harumi #i wrote a lot #vylad's random headcanons