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cupid-styles · 5 months

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Hi!! I was wondering if you could write something based on Olivia Rodrigo’s song- Can’t Catch Me Now?

Like that song makes me MELT 🫠

sooo I didn't know this song until you requested it but I read the lyrics and my only thought was boxer h so :))))) here you go!!!! a little intro into the world of boxer h x his trainer's little sister before I write a full-length one shot for them!

word count: 1k

content warnings: mentions of blood and illegal fighting, slightly toxic dynamic between harry and y/n

masterlist | talk to me

There's blood on the side of the mountain There's writing all over the wall Shadows of us are still dancin' In every room and every hall There's snow fallin' over the city You thought that it would wash away The bitter taste of my fury And all of the messes you made Yeah, you think that you got away

. . .

"Y/N, please!"

Harry's all but chasing her through the locker room in the back of the gym. She's sure that if some sort of health inspector took one look at the illegal gym — the one owned by her brother, of course — they'd say that it barely qualifies as safe. She assumes that the gym would be closed in a second, really.

But today, that's not on her mind as she takes lengthy strides through the hallway and out to the back, where the cold winter air hits her like a ton of bricks. Most evenings, it's a welcomed break from the sweaty, stuffy atmosphere of fight night, but tonight isn't like most evenings.

"Fuck off, Harry," she grumbles, digging into her purse for her car keys.

He doesn't even care that he's barely taken a breath since he got out of the ring. Of course, he won tonight's match — he almost always does, it's one of the reasons why he's a crowd favorite — but his knuckles are bloodied, a black eye brewing beneath the skin from a fatal punch.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks helplessly, chasing her up to the side of her car. She huffs, trying to unlock it, but he childishly grabs her keys from her hand and hides them in his own grasp. "Your brother would fucking kill us, you know that. I'm not actually gonna date the girl, I'm just playing along so he doesn't suspect anything."

Y/N rolls her eyes. "Give me my fucking keys and let me go home."

It's starting to snow now, which only makes Y/N even grumpier. It's freezing, she's wearing a pathetic excuse for a mini skirt and some flimsy tights underneath, and she's pissed at Harry. When they started hooking up in secret a month ago, they pledged that they wouldn't tell a soul, but mainly because of Y/N's overprotective brother and Harry's boxing coach, Dave. He was a good guy through and through and had taken care of Harry the second he entered the gym eight years back. However, Dave it made it clear time and time again that no one from the gym was allowed to even look in Y/N's direction — she was off limits, regardless of how good of a guy they claimed to be.

That included Harry.

"Let me come home with you," he pleads, a desperate look in his eyes, "Please. I'm doing my best here, really, Y/N."

"Your best isn't good enough, Harry," she mutters, leaning forward to grab the keys out of his hand. "Have a good night with whatever the fuck her name is.”

“Y/N, c’mon—“

He doesn’t miss the way she slams her car door closed. He sighs as he watches her pull out of her spot and drive down the road, unaware that pretty white snowflakes were falling from the sky until now. He groans into his hands, wincing immediately when he realizes his nose is still leaking blood from the fight. With a grimace and a limited choice on what to do next — Dave would surely be looking for him — he turns on his heel to go back into the gym.

. . .

A few hours later, Y/N wakes up from a deep sleep to the sound of fists pounding on her door. It initially freaks her out and she goes to grab the bat she keeps by her bed until she recognizes the whining of her name. It’s Harry, she realizes, and when she glances at the alarm clock on her nightstand, she grimaces at the late hour.

Her eyes flicker to the window and she sighs, seeing that the snow is still coming down steadily. She’s weak, and she can’t stomach the fact that he’s probably freezing out there with his stupid black eye and swollen nose. Grumbling, she throws on a sweatshirt and walks out to the front door, unlocking it amidst his noisy knocking. When she opens it, he looks surprised.

“Shut up, come inside, and go to sleep.”

Silently, he closes the door and toes off his shoes, eager to follow her.

“I didn’t do anything with her.” He says almost desperately.

“Do you want a gold star?”

He lets out a frustrated sigh as she busies herself with sifting through the linen closet. It's a routine they've performed before — usually, though, after fights they're rolling around in her bed, falling asleep sweaty and naked. On the occasion where something like this happens (because it's of course happened before), she has him sleep on the couch, a mere few feet away from her bedroom.

She tosses a navy blue blanket at him. Without a word, she brushes past him and back to her room.

"You're killing me," he mumbles, placing the blanket on the couch before following her. "Baby, we've gone through this before, you know there's nothing I can do unless we tell him—"

"Don't call me baby."

"Okay. I'm sorry, Y/N. Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg?"

"Maybe."

Somehow, he's not surprised by her blunt response. He's tired from tonight's fight, he's tired from being forced to celebrate with Dave and the other fighters and frequent attendees of the gym, and he's so tired of arguing with Y/N. It's nearing 4 am and he's willing to do anything to curl up next to her and put this stupid night behind them— so he does the only thing that might make her forgive him.

He lowers down to his knees and Y/N immediately scoffs, rolling her eyes. His bruised hands instantly clasp around her calves, his eyes rounded.

"Please forgive me," he says, "I hate fighting with you. I hate knowing I hurt your feelings. I'm trying, I really am."

"Try harder then," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest, "Don't let him introduce you to girls. Tell him you're seeing someone on the side or something. I don't care."

"My possessive girl," he mumbles with a smirk, pressing light kisses to her bare thighs. "All this just because you're jealous?"

"I'm not jealous."

He hums, continuing to press his lips up to her hips.

"Just stop fucking up, alright?" she grumbles before turning on her heel, almost making Harry fall over, "Let's just go to bed."

He's never been so relieved to hear those words before.

#bestie asks #writing #boxer h

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yymiya · 2 years

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shoutout to the vampire!diluc fic i started in march and never finished because of exams & uni... this was the first scene LMAO

This is the third letter in five days.

There are likely a number of others, led astray by the blizzard, beaten down by the fall of snow, but precisely three have reached his hand. The terrain here is beautiful, if fatally unpredictable and volatile. Lines of correspondence are often clipped by the conditions much sooner than intended—this, Diluc is acquainted with.

Yet, once more, his falcon drifts along the howling wind and dives down to perch on her master’s raised arm, and he knows the parchment fastened to her leg is not the biweekly report of the Dawn Winery’s affairs that he awaits but something else entirely.

Ordo Favonius has been unusually, frustratingly persistent as of late.

How typical, intercepting his commercial communications to deliver a message—several, rather—of their own without a care for the routine they disrupt. They must have forgotten that he intends to complete this journey alone. He doesn’t need their aid, or their ingratiating, sickly words and void oaths.

Diluc halts. His boots kick up a gust of powdery snow. It settles between his boot buckles and the creases in his trousers.

He should read the letter. For what reason would they write him, if not one of great importance?

The others had been scorched, set aflame before the parchment was unravelled to reveal more than the Favonius Coat of Arms. He typically finds a vestige of satisfaction in allowing the stamped ink to smoulder and fall away but...

It isn’t there.

Instead, the letter bears the emblem of his family name.

His falcon is dismissed. She glides through the dull evening and seeks refuge atop a high branch. Only once she begins preening does Diluc’s attention return to the parchment clutched in his fist.

He gouges the Ragnvindr crest with a blade, bending one knee to smear the ink in the snow. It isn’t necessary. Each letter he keeps is then stitched into his jacket lining, but this needless routine of self-preservation is familiar, tried and true.

He stands. Narrowed eyes flick across the page. His sight is obscured by the snowflakes mired in his lashes but he blinks them away, each word bolstering something within him that he wishes not to address.

The anger that festers is white-hot, spiking at the edges until each facet of his being stings.

Only Kaeya is this bold. Hiding behind a crest to which he no longer belongs. Using that horribly sapid handwriting that they had been taught together in their youth. Pretending that he is owed a favour, as though a decade of those weren’t enough.

Diluc presses the back of his hand to his mouth, eyes tightly closed. That isn’t it. Much of his anger directed towards Kaeya faltered with the searing of rain-soaked flesh. Mere vestiges remain.

It seems time away has done little to assuage his distaste for the Knights.

Onyx flames teeter between the ridge of his index and the parchment, but the strange light dissipates with the tremble of his hand. For now, he tucks it into his inner pocket and takes shelter beneath a tall pine.

His falcon keeps watch from above. If a commotion emerges nearby, she will notify him, but Diluc must think for the time being.

The letter is simple, devoid of Kaeya’s flowery, placating language and double entendres, and the message simpler: Inspector Eroch has been purged from the Knights of Favonius and Diluc is permitted to return at last.

The fulfilment of a promise should be gratifying—one more senseless bastard driven out of Mondstadt—but Kaeya’s warning to proceed with caution should not be taken lightly. Eroch’s allies have not yet exposed themselves to the investigation, but they are there, and several of their covert workings presently cause instability within Ordo Favonius.

Despite their differences, Kaeya's judgement is trusted. After all, they were reared by the same hand, the same goal. Their minds are intrinsically tethered together.

Still. Diluc is nothing if not saddled by duty. A legacy sits beneath his skin, bitter and empty and surrounded by stagnant, aged blood. It is Mondstadt that earned his devotion; his family and friends, however few remain. He has a duty as a child of the wind.

He sighs, working his jaw. What choice does he have? They—

They will rescind his exile. They will forgive his transgressions.

This existence is a lonely one, but whether the warm winds of the city will thread him together, he isn’t certain. The community would shun him if they became privy to the truth. Each patrolling knight, complicit or otherwise, would serve as a heavy reminder.

Diluc pulls his glove taut. This place is callous and unwelcoming, a dead-end that stretches for miles of barren desolation. He has scoured all corners while lying in wait.

Gods, has he waited.

His falcon sounds up ahead. There must be trouble nearby.

Hasn’t he done all he can?

#the most unvampiric (thats a word now) vamp!diluc first scene to ever exist #i will work on this fic eventually #probably over the holidays #but those arent till december #SIGH #fics #diluc x reader #vampire diluc

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harmcityherald · 1 month

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The Horse You Rode In On

"Just calling them blobs is one way to go, inspector. Yet, on the outside, it is highly misleading and doesn't help our cause to not label the creature as just that, a creature. Every piece of this thing is a living creature. One gigantic living organism. If one is in the attic and one in the basement, the two are two separate parts of the same physical entity, severed by space, but those two separate actors in this game are still but one creature, thinking in concert. Its Ingrained, instinctual strategy is to absorb and replace the very world and culture of it's infected, victimized host. It is insidiously growing even now, right this second, inspector. Hidden and out of sight, but growing beneath our feet all the same. Every second we waste arguing about it is another second gained by our adversary."

The inspector Shifted uncomfortably in his chair. he pulled a shiny case from his waistcoat and began to extract a tightly rolled cigar from it's depths. " .....even now.?........ And two of them think as one, you say? Like sharing a mind?...." His skepticism showing through. It wasn't surprising. The inspector had fished him from many a saloon and many a gutter in the short time Edgar had lived in the city. He already knew the inspector wouldn't believe him, it was hard to believe himself, but this time a man had died, and Edgar had watched.

"If it had a hundred separate bodies it still only thinks as one mind. That's what's so terrible, Inspector. It can begin like a tiny snowflake. Everything it touches it absorbs and replaces with itself. A copy of everything it kills. Like Mr. Renyolds, only it isn't Mr. Renyolds anymore. With every passing minute its absorbing something else..... Someone else. Just a tiny piece can infect the next and the next. Its insidious nature hides the creature from our very eyes in plain sight. Once it becomes too large to control, heaven only knows what it will do. Where will it end? How far will it go? i can tell you inspector. This thing will take the whole city, everyone. After that, every other city until the world is dead. It will still be the world, inspector, but it won't be us. It will be them, ....it, pretending to be us. Living vicariously through us."

"...... And you are telling us that this thing told you all of this While living inside the walls of your apartment? It talks to you?" You could tell the inspector had been dying to ask that question. You could also tell that Edgar had been dying to answer it.

"As I have been trying to tell you and anyone else In your department that will listen For three weeks now. Yes. He talked to me. IT talked to me. Showed me things. Stories it put into my head. It Feels as if it's talking to you From the inside of your own mind. I think the creature wasn't prepared for me to be looking back. I was not supposed to see what it has in store for us, But I saw it all the same. I saw other places , other worlds Where this thing has taken over. Entire civilizations absorbed and replaced. It is what this organism does. It steals the lives of it's victims And then experiences life through them. Each world conquered Is another cell awakened. Another cell in a gigantic mind that spans solar systems. It collects civilizations Like paper dolls Cut up and put into a scrapbook.... It adds them to it itself. Collecting diversity"

The inspector let a cloud of smoke curl and hang in the air between them for a few seconds, trying to let Edgar's frantic and anxiety ridden words to sink in and make sense to him. Or give him enough rope to hang himself. After a few tense seconds The inspector spoke.

"And this Reynolds, Carlton Reynolds , You say he's missing? But you say that he is dead and you watched this....creature.... kill him and replace him with an exact copy of him......and You say that mister Reynolds was not the only one. So other people have died and you're saying that you helped this thing Kill them ?"

"No inspector, I did not help kill anyone. But this creature , he is very seductive, he used me to lure victims to him and before I realized it I was involved in something I did not want to be involved in. That is why there is such dire urgency in what I'm telling you. This thing....this blob, it means to kill everyone in the world and I, in my grief and meloncoly from losing my wife, may have helped it do just that. We must stop it. I must stop it. For her sake, for the sake of us all."

"Will you come down to Baltimore street with me willingly? For farther questioning? Maybe we can get to the bottom of this before anyone else gets hurt....."

"You think it's me....." Edgar sighed deeply. The inspector immediately tried to switch gears.

"...just for questioning. We Aren't going to....."

"You're arresting me !! "

It was at this exact moment that Carlton Reynolds stepped through the open doorway and into 'the horse you rode in on' saloon.

Edgar gasped.

#The Baltimore street blob #The blob #baltimore #maryland #edgar allan poe #the blob conspiracy #so it begins #writing #having fun #Going to drop the date from the title and just call it simply the Baltimore Street blob #Victorian Baltimore #port

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forensicated · 3 months

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Smiffina Episodes: Copy Cat Killer

Gina's had a little bit of a tough time lately in that Emma 'Miss Precious Little Snowflake' Keane has decided that the root of all her problems was Gina.

This is the very same Gina who saved her from losing her job and comforted her in her cell after being arrested for attempted murder when Matt twisted the truth. It was Gina who, with Jo and Will, got her off the hook. Emma took to her second change by bullying Beth for the crime of being a probationer - something Emma herself was a year ago at that point, she's burning the candle at both ends, slacking off at work when she got the chance, turning up late and yawning through briefings stinking of booze (to the point where even Will called her out on it), She knowingly wiped computer evidence to hide a criminals dealings, gone in OTT with her asp during a riot, snarked her way through her days, she's rude to Gina, moans about not getting special treatment and then makes a complaint about Gina for 'bullying her'. Gina's crime is only for pulling her up on the above and telling her that it's been noted she's been halfarsing her work.

Thankfully everyone who heard about it - even before Gina - essentially told Emma that she was wrong, Dan even saying that Gina was tough but she was fair and Will telling her it was nothing compared to what he and Dan had gotten sometimes around the boxing. Emma then worked a case with Emma about a woman who had been raped by her supervisor and realised that actually Gina is not the enemy and is fair despite what she'd previously thought. Emma started to have wobbles that she'd over reacted but it was too late... she'd gone to Heaton and Heaton had reported it to HR. Emma withdraws her allegation but HR insist still on seeing it through.

In Copy Cat Killer, Gina finds out that a HR person is coming to see her to discuss the bullying claim. Smithy is about to step up as Acting Inspector whilst she's away and is desperate for a handover but Gina has to deal with this first. She tells him to meet her at 6.30 before her cab arrives to take her to the airport so they can do it then.

The HR lady has arrived...

The HR woman is very stereotypical and asks Gina how she perceives herself. Gina says firm but fair, she asks of that means old school. "If old school means firm but fair, then yes." She tells her that Emma alleged she was singled out and humiliated in front of her colleagues (it was her colleagues who nosed in - Gina didn't stop her in the middle of them!) and Gina says she simply wanted to make sure that the dangerous mistake was never made again. The HR woman smiles patronisingly. "... Have you heard of The Carrot Principle?" she asks, handing a book over. Gina's tone is hilarious in her response. "Please... enlighten me." she drawls. It's a real book😂😂

The HR woman asks Gina what was really happening and Gina explains tactfully. "PC Keane is going through a very messy divorce and was bringing her personal problems into work. I took her aside and told her as such. When she did not get her act together, I explained to her the team felt the same as I did. In my experience, Miss Kirwin, which is probably longer than you've been alive, it does not help an officer to mollycoddle them. I was being honest! And that is not the same as bullying. I know you see me as Attila The Hun with a badge but I thought we could sort this out between ourselves and not get tangled up in all this red tape!"

Miss Kirwin looks uncomfortable and then says she'll let her know what action will be taken by the end of the day. She returns later to tell Gina that she should take some leave because she thinks she's affected by stress. Gina hesitates before looking at her. ".. You mean like a holiday?" "Exactly!" That will be the end of the matter - and it just so happens she's due to go on holiday that night! Phew! Finally Emma apologises to her too!

Gina waits as long as she can for Smithy but her taxi arrives and she has to leave. He goes to see her to find her office in darkness but a note on the computer waiting for him to reassure him.

#day of reckoning #cop killer part 2 #copy cat killer #smiffina #smiffinalong #alex walkinshaw #dale smith #smithy #roberta taylor #gina gold #emma keane #melanie gutteridge #the bill

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dailyproblemsleuth · 4 months

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Problem Sleuth, page 402

PS: Use MOLLIFY to calm down the emissary.

Pickle Inspector politley suggests that he be allowed to try something first, before such extreme measures are taken.

Author commentary: Please take a moment to examine and appreciate each frame here. Each one is a precious snowflake, and not the least bit redundant.

#gif

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redcraneacnh · 9 months

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The snowflake inspector is on-duty!

#animal crossing #acnh #new horizons #red crane memories #animal crossing new horizons #ac new horizons #acnh kabuki #acnh winter

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lost-carcosa · 4 years

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#the trumpocalypse #bunker inspector #president snowflake

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lesserknownbots · 6 years

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Automated Snowflake Inspector from Pajama Sam 2: Thunder and Lightning Aren’t So Frightening

#robots #video game #submission #Automated Snowflake Inspector #Pajama Sam #Pajama Sam 2 #Pajama Sam 2: Thunder and Lightning Aren’t So Frightening

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oh-my-wizard-god · 3 years

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Pajama Sam 2: Thunder and Lightning Aren’t So Frightening is the gayest game i’ve ever played and it explains so much about me

#my posts #if you grew up on the games like me just so you know they are on steam for pretty cheap #I didn't realized I viewed thunder and lightning as a lesbian couple until today when i replayed it #also I remember shipping the Snowflake Inspector and the Snowflake Inspector Detector (SID) SO HARD #like as a kid i shipped them #but at the time I viewed the snowflake inspector as a girl even tho he's canonly a boy robot

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lupiiifics · 2 years

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A Winter Conversation

Fic #14 posted on AO3 on January 4, 2021.

Summary: Jigen and Zenigata smoke on a balcony and talk.

Word Count: 1949

Note: Just something a little extra since I was craving this ship. :)

“Got a light?”

Jigen stepped out onto the balcony, braving the snowy night with a pack of Marlboros, and a single scarf. They hadn’t planned on being snowed in like this. They weren’t even supposed to be here, yet this is where the chase had taken them. A small log cabin in the middle of nowhere, stuck in Canada on a freezing winter night. Not exactly what one would call ideal, but it could have been worse.

Zenigata turned from his position against the railing, a cigarette leaking smoke pressed between his lips. He nodded as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small lighter and striking the flint without thought. A flame burst from the small device, and Jigen let out a hum of thanks as he leaned into it. He shivered as he stepped up beside the Inspector, maybe a little closer than Zenigata was expecting.

He gave the gunman a side-glance, spotting the scarf and the way the man shivered against the cold. Jigen held his own cigarette between two of his fingers, hunching down onto the railing in an attempt to preserve some warmth. Zenigata huffed. He turned back to stare at the horizon, silent tides of snowflakes falling in the distance. They fell to land on both of the men, gathering rather quickly around their hats and the tops of their shoulders.

“Where’s your coat?” Zenigata asked, leaning against Jigen’s arm. He remained there for a moment but pulled away to keep him from becoming jumpy. Jigen wasn’t the softest of men and Zenigata knew that. Physical touch was something they had to take slowly. Otherwise, Zenigata may never get the opportunity.

“Don’t got one,” Jigen said, his breath visible in the night air. “Didn’t really plan to crash our plane into Canada, now did I?”

Zenigata shrugged. He took in a puff of smoke and let it out through his nose. “Where’d you get the scarf?”

Jigen held it up, running the plush fabric through his calloused fingers. It was gaudy and multicolored. More something an old lady would wear rather than a trained assassin. Still, Jigen made the look work, and Zenigata almost hated him for it. Handsome bastard. “Lupin found it. He kinda forced me to put it on before he allowed me to come out here.”

“I can see why,” Zenigata said. “It’s freezing, and you're practically a twig.”

Jigen pointed his cigarette at Zenigata, his dark eyes visible from beneath his hat. He smirked, sounding amused. “Hey, we can’t all be built like trees. Not that I’m complaining.”

Now, it was Zenigata’s turn to smirk. He pivoted to look at Jigen, his eyes bright. “Was that a compliment?” he asked.

Jigen chuckled, the sound soft and affectionate. If there was a small blush on his cheeks, it was from the cold. Not from being caught in his thinly-veiled attempt at flirting. “So what if it was?” he asked, exhaling smoke. “It’s not like you’re hard to look at, you know.”

Zenigata's smirk turned into a smile. He tipped himself in Jigen's direction and nudged the arm which sat on the rail beside him. Jigen pushed back, leaning into the warmth of Zenigata's shoulder. He shivered, and Zenigata stared at him. "You're not so bad yourself," he said. He opened an arm. "Here."

Jigen’s eyes widened. "What?"

"C'mere," Zenigata said. "You look like you're about to freeze to death. It'll help."

“Really?” Jigen asked, like this was some kind of joke. Zenigata nodded.

Jigen seemed to hesitate for a moment before he slowly shuffled over to Zenigata. There was a blush on his cheeks, and Jigen tried his best to hide it under his hat. Zenigata wrapped his arm around Jigen’s shoulder, snuffing out his cigarette and tucking the filter into his pocket. Jigen seemed stiff, unsure of how to move under the added warmth and pressure of the Inspector. He wouldn’t look at him, still hiding his face under the brim of his hat.

“You okay?” Zenigata asked.

Jigen took in the last of his cigarette before it burned out at the filter. The ashes fell to scatter like the snowflakes, quickly disappearing in the frigid night air. “Yeah,” he said, exhaling the smoke in one big breath. He went to grab another but stopped halfway. “I’m fine.”

Zenigata looked down at him. “You sure? You seem uncomfortable.”

Jigen shook his head. “It’s not that…” he said. “You’re just… a lot, you know?”

“I don’t actually,” Zenigata said. “Care to explain?”

Jigen sighed. He reached into his jacket for a cigarette, remembered his lack of a lighter, and stuck it in his mouth at a loss of what to do. He slumped his shoulders, and Zenigata moved with him. “You’re… you’re just very attractive. It’s intimidating.”

Zenigata laughed, his shoulders shaking and his face red from the cold. He smiled at Jigen, and Jigen raised an eyebrow at him. "What's so funny?" he asked.

Zenigata squeezed Jigen's shoulder. "You do realize you're one of the deadliest men alive, right?"

Jigen shrugged. "I guess so. What's that got to do with anything?"

Zenigata wiped a tear from one of his eyes, still giggling between breaths. Jigen could feel the vibrations as they trembled from Zenigata's chest, jolting both of them as they leaned onto the snow-covered railing.

"Jigen, you're intimidating. At least, until you get to know someone. Do you know how terrifying you were when we first met? Yet you're intimidated by me."

"I mean, you are Lupin's rival," Jigen said. He shifted the cigarette in his mouth and pondered lifting Zenigata’s lighter. It would be easy given how close together they were. "Give yourself some credit."

Zenigata snatched the cigarette from Jigen's lips on impulse, placing it in his jacket pocket and turning to look at him fully. Jigen opened his mouth to protest but paused when he saw the look on Zenigata's face. He watched him carefully.

"Hey, I have a question," Zenigata said.

Jigen's eyes weren't visible, but Zenigata got the feeling they were connected with his own anyway.

Jigen nodded. "Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Jigen spluttered. His face went entirely crimson, and he practically dove into Zenigata's shoulder. Zenigata braced almost the entirety of Jigen's weight, holding his shoulders steady so they wouldn’t fall.

"Where'd— where'd that come from?" he asked, voice muffled by Zenigata's jacket. He sounded embarrassed. "Shit, Pops I—"

Jigen paused, still hiding against his shoulder. Zenigata got the feeling he'd been too forward. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried his best to look at the gunman.

"I'm sorry," he said. "That came out of left field, didn't it?"

Jigen shook his head. "No," he said. "No, it's okay. You don’t have to apologize. I just… wasn't expecting it."

"Are you okay?" Zenigata asked. He still had an arm around Jigen, but now he thought of removing it. He gestured between them. "Is this okay?"

Jigen finally pulled back. He stared up at Zenigata with big, nervous brown eyes. He looked startled and it made Zenigata’s heart ache.

"Yes, it is," Jigen said. "I’m just— I'm not used to someone being so polite about things like this. Most people— at least the people I've known— have always wanted to take things fast. They don’t normally ask for permission."

"Then… what about Lupin?" Zenigata asked. "I know he's not the most considerate person at times, but he doesn't take advantage of you, does he?"

"What? No," Jigen said, blinking in surprise. "I wasn't talkin' about him. Lupin's the first person who really showed me respect when it came to romance. He can get a little enthusiastic, but he doesn't mean any harm by it."

"That's good," Zenigata said, sighing. "I'm sorry if I scared you. I couldn't help myself."

"It's fine," Jigen said. "I didn't mean to react like that. It just wasn't what I was expecting."

"Then…" Zenigata hesitated, pressing a finger under the edge of Jigen's jaw. He thumbed his beard, and Jigen gawked at him openly. "Can we…?"

Jigen didn't flinch this time, nor did he hide in Zenigata's shoulder. His eyes were as wide as Zenigata had ever seen them, but he nodded his head anyway. "'Course," he said. "Go for it."

And so, Zenigata did. He leaned forward, using his fingers to tip Jigen's head up enough so that the kiss wasn't awkward. His lips were surprisingly soft. He smelled and tasted like cigarettes. Smokey and rich like an expensive glass of bourbon. Jigen was stiff as the kiss began, but as it went on, he melted. His beard wasn't as scratchy as Zenigata had expected. Instead, it tickled his chin, causing a small bubble of laughter to flow between them.

He licked at the edge of Jigen's lips, silently asking for permission. Jigen opened his mouth wider, and the kiss deepened. Their breaths were heavy as they moved against each other, standing in the shadow of the light bleeding out into the darkness.

They huffed as they pulled away, still pressed together with a string of saliva hanging between them. Jigen’s face was red as he looked up at Zenigata. He seemed much less uncomfortable standing in Zenigata’s arms now, with his shoulders relaxed and the urge to go for his gun diminished. Zenigata smiled as he gazed at Jigen, reaching up to wipe his lips on the back of one of his hands.

They heard a whistle in the direction of the French doors, as well as some laughter as Goemon pulled Lupin away from the clouded glass. They could hear Goemon’s deep voice chastising the thief as he continued to cheer them on, the shadow of the samurai wrestling him onto the couch stretching across the balcony. Jigen laughed. He stared into the house and watched as Goemon struggled to hold Lupin back. He turned to Zenigata.

“Think we should head inside?” Jigen asked.

Zenigata laughed along with him, listening to the commotion coming from the cabin. He shrugged. “I don’t know…” he said. “I was having a nice time out here with you.”

Jigen smiled at him, once again hiding his eyes behind the brim of his hat. He reached up and patted Zenigata awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’s not like we can’t continue this inside the house. Besides, it’s cold.”

Zenigata leaned down and pressed a kiss against the corner of Jigen’s mouth, smiling against him. He was grinning when he resurfaced, tugging on the brim of Jigen’s hat playfully. “Fine,” he said. “Guess I shouldn’t let you freeze out here, should I?”

“I’d appreciate it,” Jigen said. “You may be big, but you’re not immune to the cold like Goe is.”

Zenigata scoffed. He pulled away from Jigen but held out a hand for him to take. He did. “Goemon’s not immune to the cold,” he said. “He’s just more used to it than we are. I guess it comes with being a samurai.”

Jigen nodded. He followed Zenigata as they moved back into the house, the warmth of the fireplace and the thick mantel-side blankets calling his name. He smiled, squeezing Zenigata’s hand in his. “I guess,” he said. “Now where’d you put that cigarette you stole from me? I spent my hard earned money on that, you know.”

Zenigata laughed. He held up the cigarette as if by magic and tucked it into the hem of his hat’s silk band. He shook his head, still chuckling.

“Hard earned,” he scoffed. He opened the balcony door and stepped into the warmth of the room. Lupin cheered as they entered, and they both ignored him. He grinned at the gunman, pulling him inside. “Whatever you say, Jigen.”

#lupin iii #lupin the 3rd #lupin the third #koichi zenigata #jigen daisuke #arsene lupin iii #goemon ishikawa #jigzeni #zenigata #jigen #jigen x zenigata

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pixuou · 2 years

Text

Malcolm: Armand, my good friend! What brings you here?

Armand: I heard the club underwent some renovations, I just came to take a look around.

Malcolm: Oh yeah, well, not huge renovations, just a little tidying up. But it's certainly nice. Although, we could surely spice it up if only we had a little more budget...

Armand: You? Running out of budget? Don't make me laugh. Where's all that income going?

Malcolm: Well, you know how it is with fluctuating workforce and an unstable political climate... I gotta save up some amount. I'm about to become a father and all, plus I have to expand the Electronics Supercenter too... And anyway, I don't even earn that much these days, since the economic crisis. I don't make that much profit. And all the money I'm not making is totally not lying in my several offshore accounts right now. Absolutely not at all.

Armand: Calm down Malcolm, I'm not a tax inspector.

Malcolm, whispering: But you never know who might walk in here. I've just had some snowflake politician storm in just to inform me that my club is dIsTurBiNg ThE rEsIdEnTs In ThEiR sLeEp.

Armand: Well, the residents are also your potential customers, aren't they? You don't want to earn yourself a bad rep with them.

#landgraab #ultimatehood #round 2 #bluewater village #armand #malcolm #armand and malcolm arc

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maybe-your-left · 3 years

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Ben Solo Masterlist

Chaptered Fics (Coming Soon!)

Codependency(Parole Officer Ben! Winter!)

Cooler Than Me (Highschool Benji AU!)

Good Intentions (Triplet AU)

Oneshots:

Dreams of You (Kylo perspective)

Home

Mistaken Identity

Shop Owner

P*gging (All the Boys)

High School (All the Boys)

College (All the Boys)

Book Club (All the Boys)

P*ssy Inspectors (All the Boys)

Valentines (Matt/Ben/Kylo)

First Time (Matt/Ben/Kylo)

First Dates (All the Boys)

Love Languages

Snowflakes

The Economy

Tig ol Bitties

Chesticles

Long Distance

An Annoying Brother

Buying a House Blurb

In My Room (Halloween Fic MIND THE TAGS)

SWAMP (Solo Triplets DARK FIC)

The Good The Bad and The Ugly

#ben solo #triplet au #benjamin solo #adam driver #adamdriver #maybe your left #masterlist 2021

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rose-edith · 3 years

Note

Christmas with Sullivan and the children you have together? :)

Hope you like it!

Christmas with Inspector Sullivan and your children would include:

•it really is the most wonderful time of the year for your little family.

•your tree goes up in early December, it’s a real one, and while you brought some decorations for the tree you had the children make some decorations for the tree. They made snowflakes out of ice cream sticks, glue and glitter, they made pom-poms out of wool and under their guidance you sewed some gingerbread person garlands for the tree.

•you and the Inspector made a point of buying your children one big present each and a few little ones. The presents had been wrapped and hidden on the top of your wardrobe for the whole month until on Christmas Eve (after the children have been put to bed) the presents are placed under the tree.

•you’re lucky that your dear darling Inspector has managed to have Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day off work.

•you and your children make lots of Christmas cookies and mince pies and all sorts of delicious treats!

•on Christmas Eve at bedtime the kids set out a glass of port for Santa and some carrots for the reindeer.

•then you and the Inspector put them to bed as a team, but rather than you telling them a story as you did most week nights, Christmas Eve story time was always devoted to your darling husband. He read them a festive story and they always loved it!

•on Christmas morning you were all up early! But there was only one present each that was allowed to be opened. The rest of them were saved for after Christmas lunch.

•speaking of, the meal was a massive treat! A full Christmas dinner with all the trimmings, and a special festive pudding that you had saved your rations for, so it was a real treat!

•your most favourite part of the day however was in the early evening. It was dark outside and snowing lightly, but inside your home with the fire roaring you knew only peace. Your children were playing quietly on the floor with their new toys, while you and your husband lounged on the sofa together, and enjoying the quiet family time. Everything was perfect.

#father brown #father brown headcanons #father brown imagine #father brown x reader #inspector sullivan #inspector sullivan x reader #bbc father brown #inspector sullivan headcanons #inspector sullivan imagine

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