#milestone event

The blood loss is severe, so when morning rolls around, you’re still tied to the same nondescript hospital bed with a headache rivaling the morning after your engagement party.

Everything feels fuzzy, and the colors are a little off, except for the outline of a handsome man standing in the doorway.

“Wow, you’re hot!” You croak at the vision. “Are you single?”

Kakashi laughs, the sound muffled by his mask. Still, it clears some of the haze around your memory, and you reach for him. 

“Hey,” your hands dig into the fabric of his vest and pull him closer. “Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” he cradles your aching head. “Did no one tell you that Kunai don’t belong in heads?”

“They do, though,” you disagree. “Just not in mine.”

“Correct,” Kakashi leans in to drop a kiss on your temple. “I asked if I could take you home today. Didn’t let up that today’s our actual anniversary and not the village-wide festival that’s being held at the end of next month.”

“So they won’t let you?”

“Nope,” he drags his mouth over yours, a painfully slow and gentle kiss. “So I’m going to take the day off and stay here.”

“Great idea,” you pat the space on your left. “Can we order in? I’m starving.”

“I don’t think the doctors would like that very much. I heard you kept throwing up yesterday.”

“You’re the Hokage,” you remind him. “I want Curry.”

-

One week before your second anniversary, Kakashi breaks his leg.

He’s very cagey about the exact details, but it involves Guy, their rivalry, and a stupid bet. You don’t ask for more.

“We can still go to the Onsen,” Kakashi pleads from where he’s stretched out in bed, his leg propped up on a pillow. “I can wrap a trash bag around it or something.”

“Sakura already said no,” you yell back from the kitchen. You were really looking forward to visiting the Onsen. “How do you want your eggs?”

“Fertilized,” Kakashi jokes. You walk back to stare at him, spatula raised like a weapon. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I hate not being by your side when you cook.”

“Just say that, then,” you huff, lifting him into a chair and dragging the chair to the kitchen. “And lose some weight.”

“Excuse me?” Kakashi asks, one arm slung around your leg, face smushed against your thigh. “You feed me. If anything, you’re the one responsible for my weight gain.”

You scramble the eggs in the pan. Silence drapes itself soothingly over your frayed nerves. Kakashi’s quiet breathing, his warmth seeping into you, does the rest.

“I wish you would take better care of yourself,” you tell him, as you put breakfast on the table. “And I was looking forward to the Onsen.”

“I promise we can go as soon as the cast is off. I’ll take a weekend off and make it worthwhile.”

You lean in for a kiss. “Thank you. Happy anniversary. Do you want to stay on the couch, cuddle, and eat loads of junk food?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

-

On the day of your third anniversary, you both happen to be in Iwa for a Kage-meeting that absolutely couldn’t have been pushed to a different date, not with the village-wide celebration of your supposed anniversary the month after. 

You spend the day protecting your husband from the dangers of would-be assassins and overeating, only to badly bruise your hipbones later that night when you drop into bed. Iwa builds its furniture a little differently than you’re used to. You still limp a little when you return, and the rumors spread quicker than you would have liked.

-

You spend your fourth anniversary stuck in bed with the flu, the sound of Kakashi’s coughing in your ear. You celebrate two weeks later with a visit to Kiri, only to end up with severe food poisoning. You vow to do things differently the next year. 

-

The twins are born two weeks before your fifth anniversary.

-

The house is quiet. Too quiet.

You blink yourself awake. Kakashi’s snoring softly on your right, one arm slung around your hips. You slip out of his grasp and pull on the shirt he left on the floor the night before, a habit you’ve given up on trying to correct. It comes in handy sometimes.

The door to the twins' room is open, their beds empty. Quiet voices lead you to the kitchen.

“Dad likes it scrambled,” Susume points out quietly as you squint through a crack in the door. Atsuko’s standing on a stepstool, dragging a fork through the pan. “Is this scrambled enough?” She asks.

“No, you gotta do more,” Susume leans in to help. “Do you wanna butter the toast?”

“Yeah,” she makes space for him, whistling for the dogs. “Pakkun, can you get flowers from the garden?”

“Do I have to?”

“Yeah,” Atsuko orders him. “It’s for Mom and Dad.”

Touched, you shuffle back to the bedroom, where Kakashi’s patting around in search of you.

“The kids are making breakfast,” you announce as you slip back into his hold. “I think we raised them right.”

“Course we did,” he mumbles into your neck, pressing lazy kisses against your skin. “Also, is this our first anniversary without anything bad happening?”

“Don’t jinx it,” you beg, anxiously listening for anything from the kitchen.

“They’re going to be fine,” Kakashi reassures you, drawing lazy circles into your skin. “I miss them being tiny, though. Wish I could turn back time to carry them around again.”

“You can still carry Susume around,” you point out. “He likes that.”

“Yeah, he likes breaking my back,” Kakashi huffs, tickling you when you laugh. “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary, to you too.”

-

The kids spend the night with Guy, playing with toddler Metal while you decide against deep cleaning the bathroom - it’s long overdue - in favor of taking a long, relaxing bath with Kakashi.

“I think I put on weight,” you point out as the bubbles start to disperse, squeezing your tummy into funny shapes. “You feed me too well.”

“If anything, I don’t feed you enough,” Kakashi decides, nibbling on your ear. “Chocolates for dinner?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

-

You don’t notice until the day Konoha celebrates your supposed wedding.

Not the missing period, not the extra weight, not even the sudden craving for all things salty. 

But Kakashi does.

“Now?” You ask as he finds you in the bathroom, a wrapped pregnancy test in his outstretched hand. The kids aren’t dressed yet, and your dress needs ironing still, not to mention that you’re probably going to be late to your own party anyway.

“Now, please,” he asks. “Kids,” he yells out the bathroom door. “If I find you dressed and clean in the kitchen in thirty minutes, I’ll give you an extra allowance for the festival!” He closes the door with a click and turns to you. “I’ve been noticing some things recently.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re imagining things,” you tease him. “You could just say you want another baby.”

“I want another baby,” Kakashi says. “Twins, too, if we could have another set.”

“You’re being serious?”

“Never more than right now.”

The test takes two minutes to develop, and you use the time to put on makeup, fondly rolling your eyes at Kakashi when he starts pacing behind you. 

But then the time is up, and you both lean forward, eyes fixed on the second, pink line.

Kakashi’s hand curls around yours as you swallow around a lump in your throat. Happy tears form around your lashline.

“Happy anniversary,” Kakashi mumbles. “Best gift ever.”

-

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EVENTS

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#500StarsForYaya: fake texts prompts (completed)

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SERIES

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a house we build - poly!minsung x afab!reader 8/8 (completed)

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COLLABS

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Fortune Favors The Brave: Part 10 (host: @breakmeoff)

KPOP Kinktober: Day 3 | Spit Kink ft!Seungmin (host: @breakmeoff)

A Very Merry KPOPmas: Day 26 | Holiday Vacation ot8 (host: @breakmeoff)

coming soon...

“Okay let’s start,” Changbin said lazily, rolling his eyes.  Hyunjin got into the seat next to him watching as you started your verse.

“Get the words right,” Changbin complained, running his hands through his hair.  Something caught Felix’s eyes.  Changbin’s mark was glowing.  You two were soulmates and you didn’t even know it.  Hyunjin smiled.  He was kind of obsessed with the thought that he was gonna watch a real life enemies to lovers plot.

For the past two weeks, the two of you had been recording extra takes to get it perfect.  Most of these sessions went like this.  It’d go exactly like the normal recording session with Stray Kids would go.  You’d come in and Changbin would be tired.  You’d both be annoyed that you’d have to see each other again.  You’d record and start changing part of your verse that you thought could help the song (which for the record Chan gave you permission to do).  Changbin would tell you to stop.  You’d argue.  Simple as that.

Tonight was another late night recording session just the two of you.  The lights were dim.  The both of you were exhausted from the long day.  “Come on,” Changbin groaned as he stretched his arms over his head, “stop being lazy.”

“Changbin,” you replied with equal frustration, “why do you always have to pick on me, you sorry excuse for a rapper!”

He got up and slammed his hands on the table.  “I’m a sorry excuse for a rapper?  I can actually record something without it sounding like crap every time!”

“I hate that you’re such a jerk.  You can’t just let me be good at something”

“I hate that I love you so much!”

You both froze.  That wasn’t what either of you were expecting.  Neither of you wanted to address this.  It was at that moment you noticed the glowing from your wrist.  He was your soulmate.  That explained so much and so little at the same time.  That was why you two seemed to be so drawn to each other.  But why did you two act like you hate each other all the time?

Changbin took a deep breath before starting, “I don’t actually hate that I love you.  I want to push you to be your best.  I don’t want anyone to say anything bad about you.  I’m sorry if I…”

“No,” you interrupted running out of the booth and to him, “I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.  Should we try?  Try to get along at least?”

“We kind of have to.  We are stuck together,” he said, showing you his glowing mark.  You smiled and kissed him on the cheek before heading back into the booth to continue.  He placed a hand on his cheek where you kissed him, the feeling lingering.  He didn’t hate that he loved you.  But that didn’t mean you still didn’t annoy him sometimes.

Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!

Immediately, you excuse yourself from work, briefly describing a family emergency to your boss. You hop on the closest train, jittering in your seat, sweating bullets, stomach tight with anxiety. All you need to know is that your mom is safe. As soon as you’re out of the station, you remove the heels off your feet to run home. When you arrive, you notice a black car with tinted windows parked in the driveway and the front door already swung open. Winded and out of breath, you double over with the impulse to vomit, already expecting the worse. You swallow down the urge, collecting yourself, and walk inside.

You’re met by three strangers: two men and a woman. She looks young, gaze cold on yours, studying you carefully. The taller of the men is significantly older, hunched over, lanky, with a cigarette between his crooked smile. The other is short, but his domineering presence seems to overwhelm the rest of them. The cold gaze, the stagnant frown, the tightness in his brows. There’s an aura to him that shows he’s not one to be messed with. Before you can even confirm, you know that this man is the one who spoke to you earlier on the phone. Their leader. 

Your mom is seated on the couch, cowering in fear when she calls out to you. “Honey!”

You step towards them, wanting to approach her, but you’re stopped by the woman, staring daggers at you, her hand concealed inside her jacket, ready to attack if necessary. It’s a warning: Don’t come any closer or else. “Mikasa, relax. She ain’t even armed,” the older man says. He points to her, winking at you. “Sorry about my niece; she’s got some anger issues. Runs in the family, actually.”

Without removing her gaze from you, she mutters, “Shut up, Kenny.”

He laughs, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. He removes the cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the hardwood floor of your living room before stepping closer towards you. “I should be the one upset here.” His eyes scan your figure up and down, smirking. “Right, Levi?”

You shiver from his wicked expression, glancing at your mother who stares wide-eyed at you in a panic. “What’s the meaning of this?” you ask shakily. 

The shorter man, apparently named Levi, comes forward, glaring at you. “You owe the Ackerman Clan money. Two million yen with all the interest that’s been accruing for the past ten years.” 

“We never borrowed money from you!” you argue. 

“You didn’t. But your father did,” Kenny interjects. “The dumbass didn’t know how to gamble on the right horse. Lost each race and came crawling back to me for more and more money. I gave him two years to pay me back without interest, but I suppose he ran off on you and your poor mother before he could pay it. Now, it’s way past due. I need my money back.”

That no-good, deadbeat father of yours. Of course he’s the one behind this. He’s always had a gambling addiction, ever since you were little. Borrowed money left and right from distant relatives, friends, coworkers, and apparently strangers. You thought he’d at least have the decency to pay them off on the occasions he actually scored big, but who are you kidding? All he spent his winnings on was more booze to drown out the fact that he never cared or provided for his family. You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You should be asking him for the money, not us.”

Levi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think we already tried looking for him? We can’t find him. He’s gone. Someone else has to be responsible for it now. And that means his wife and his kid. You.”

“We don’t have that kind of money just laying around,” you say, hoping that somehow, this Yakuza gang is nice enough to forgive the debt.

Kenny barks a laugh. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, huh? Just like your lousy father.”

You wince at his harsh words, simultaneously agreeing with him. Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you can’t pay off this debt within the next three months, we’ll be forced to take more severe action.”

“What do you mean?” you stutter. A variety of cruel punishments flash through your head, causing your knees to wobble in fear, though you manage to stay upright. 

“You don’t want to find out,” he threatens with a dark look.

You swallow loudly, unable to hide your dread any longer. Crying, you fall to your knees in a begging position, peering up at Levi with weepy eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my mom. Leave her out of this.”

Your mother sobs into her hands, your name muffled against her palms. Even through your blurred vision, you notice Levi’s expression waver just the slightest. 

“Maybe she can work for you,” Mikasa suggests. Her tone has changed to one of sympathy, unexpectedly considering her intimidating demeanor moments ago. 

Levi scoffs. “And what would she do for me? I doubt she can fight.”

There’s a pause as you watch them contemplate your fate. Kenny is the first one to offer an answer. “Housekeeper. She can be your housekeeper!”

Levi grimaces at the suggestion. “Excuse me?”

Kenny walks towards him, ruffling his nephew’s hair, much to his dismay. Levi swats him away, scowling as his uncle explains, “You spend so much goddamn time cleaning your own house, it’s about time you hire someone to do it for you. You’re the leader of the Ackerman Clan now. Time is money. You can’t be wasting it dusting when you can just make someone else do it for you.” He squats, legs spread wide, meeting you face-to-face. “Can you clean?”

You wipe away the tears streaming down your face, nodding.

“Can you cook?”

You nod again, more confidently this time. 

He slaps his knee. “Well, there you go! Looks like we found the solution. You’re hired. Levi will pay you at the end of each day. Your wages after three months should be enough to cover the debt you owe me. If you work overtime, you’ll earn extra cash. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, waiting for you to shake on it. 

Three months of housekeeping and cooking for the leader of a Yakuza gang, who already looks like he despises you? It’s either that or whatever punishment he originally has in mind, which sounds much more painful and ominous. 

Before you agree, you ask, “What about my regular job?”

He strokes his chin, thinking. “Damn, forgot about that. Well, Little Levi here can compensate you for that as well. You’ll have to quit it in the meantime, but this gig is much better, don’t cha think?”

Levi raises his voice, angry now. “Don’t I get a say in this?! Who said I have the money to pay her?!”

Kenny waves him off, smirking. “You don’t drink, you don’t gamble, and you don’t fuck. So what else are you doing with all that money?”

At this, Levi gapes at his uncle, blushing. “I’m the fucking captain here, aren’t I? I won’t allow this.”

Kenny rolls his eyes, standing up to stretch his back. “Fine. Got a better idea? We don’t have all fucking day to argue about this, you know.”

After a few more disgruntled huffs from Levi without any other real suggestions, you are officially hired as Levi Ackerman’s housekeeper. 

~~~

Levi doesn’t need a fucking housekeeper. He’s the cleanest goddamn person in this entire godforsaken planet. Sure, he spends at least two hours at the start of his morning doing household chores to ensure that everything in his home is spick and span. But what’s so wrong about that? It’s the only solace he finds in this cruel world. The only aspect of his life that he can control. 

So, when his new hire arrives to his house seven o’clock sharp the very next day, Levi’s already in a bad mood. And when she smiles brightly at him, greeting him, “Good morning!” in an all-too-cheery voice that drips with enthusiasm and spirit despite the shitty situation she’s in, he can’t help but become even more irritated. She can’t possibly be excited about this. It’s all a façade, an act. Fake. He’s seen it before, from so-called friends, family members, strangers on the street. People only connect with him if there’s something to gain from it. And in this case, the money to pay her father’s debt is her end-goal, and nothing else. He reminds himself that she’s not here for him. No one ever is.

He doesn’t respond to her, turning on his heel to lead her inside. Without saying so, she removes her shoes, tucking them into an empty slot on the shoe rack, following him. Unfortunately, Kenny’s been here since half an hour ago, taking his usual breakfast: a cup of black coffee and a frozen waffle, toasted until lukewarm. And of course, there’s already crumbs on the table, but Levi ignores it, knowing that she’s responsible for this mess now, not him. 

“Morning,” Kenny drawls, raising his mug to her. She waves, still nervous around them, naturally, but her smile stays on. 

Levi hands her a sheet of paper, typed out with proper instructions. “Everything you need to know is on here. Unless you’re illiterate and can’t read, I won’t need to explain anything to you, right?”

She scans the document quickly, shaking her head at the end. “Seems simple enough.” 

“My nephew here likes things spotless,” Kenny adds, spit flying out of his mouth as he chews the rest of his breakfast. “Total clean freak and perfectionist. He’ll be on your ass about a simple speck of dust.”

“It’s not clean if there’s still dust,” he emphasizes. 

Her attention goes to the fridge. “What about meals? What do you like to eat?”

“I’m not picky. I usually don’t eat breakfast and lunch is brought to me at the office. So dinner is the only meal you have to cook. Like I said, I’m not picky. But it better not be instant ramen or something. I’m not paying you to feed me that processed shit.” Truthfully, he already eats that junk for lunch, often opting for fast food because it’s quick and easy while he’s out on a job. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He shoots a glare at his uncle when he notices him snickering to himself, clearly aware of his less-than-ideal diet. 

After a brief tour of the house, not including his bedroom, which will remain off limits, him and Kenny leave to start the day. Levi is reluctant at first, unsure if she can live up to his high standards of tidiness, but even he can admit that it’s more productive when he arrives to their headquarters on time. 

The day goes by smoothly; the extra two hours that Levi gains by entrusting another person to his usual morning ritual proves to be beneficial for both him and his gang. They are able to add an extra stop to their daily rounds, collecting owed money from sleezy businesses and seedy underground organizations. They only resort to violence once, with Levi squeezing a man’s head between his shoe and the pavement until he coughs up the dough. In his eyes, today was a good day. 

Kenny drops him off back home around eight when it’s already dark out. The lights are on, glowing through the shaded windows. He digs into his pocket for the keys, retrieving them to unlock the door, his nostrils immediately hit with a sensational aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sliding out of his shoes, he steps further inside, following the scent. 

She’s leaning over the stove, steam puffing from whatever pan she’s cooking in. He drops his keys on the counter, clearing his throat to make his presence known. 

“Hello, Mr. Ackerman,” she says, turning to face him. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll serve it to you now.”

He slides a chair out from the dining table, taking a seat, watching as she moves around the kitchen. She scoops white rice into a bowl, then the food onto a plate, setting it front of him. It looks delicious; glazed meat scattered with a variety of fresh vegetables. “It’s chicken stir fry,” she explains. “It isn’t gourmet or anything, but it’s hearty and filling. I hope you like it.”

He remains silent, holding a piece of broccoli at the end of his chopstick, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. The sauce is savory, pairing well with the typically bland vegetable. He digs into the chicken, enjoying how juicy and flavorful it is. It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but still; it’s tasty. 

She stands beside him, watching him eat with a small grin on her face. “What would you like to drink?”

He swallows, replying, “I like tea. Hot tea. Decaf.”

“On it,” she says, heading back into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. Within ten minutes, she returns with a cup in one hand, the kettle in the other, pouring him freshly brewed tea. 

It’s quiet, Levi eating peacefully while she continues to observe him. He’s not quite sure what to say; do they make small talk? Does he compliment her cooking? How do people engage with others during a time like this?

Her stomach growls loudly, which he immediately notices. He raises a brow at her, pointing his chopsticks towards the kitchen. “You should eat too. If you’re hungry.”

“Is that alright?” 

He nods, looking down at his plate. “It’s better than watching me eat while you’re starving, right?”

She laughs, going back into the kitchen once again. “Yes, of course.” She comes back, sitting across from him to start eating. Not knowing what else to discuss over dinner, Levi asks her about the chores she should have accomplished today, to which she reports back in detail. It sounds as if she went through eat item on the list, though the true test will be when he inspects it himself. Their conversation flows well; he usually hates conversing with people when it isn’t necessary. He can’t remember the last time he shared a homecooked meal with someone else. He’s always at home after work, alone. Mikasa is too busy with her own family, and Levi can hardly stand his uncle’s presence to begin with, so he always preferred being alone. 

This, however, this he doesn’t mind. Surprisingly. 

Before he gets too comfortable with the idea, he reminds himself once more that this is simply the deal they agreed to. There’s no room for sentimentality. She’s here because she was forced into this role, not because she wants to be here. This is business. This is temporary.

And with that in mind, Levi strengthens the integrity of the walls he barricades around him, determined not to let anyone but himself in.

~~~

Your first month of employment go by as smoothly as you hope it would be, given your circumstances. Every day, you arrive at Levi’s house seven in the morning on the dot, greeting him with a smile. You figured it wouldn’t do you any good to show your fear of the Yakuza in front of the leader himself. And, in all honestly, you weren’t actually that scared of him. While he’s cold and blunt most of the time, he hasn’t done anything to frighten you yet, aside from your initial meeting. It helps that you only see him for a few minutes in the morning when he lets you in, and at most an hour at the end of the day, when you share dinner together. Before you leave, he hands you an envelope with your day’s wages, and that’s that. Based on the lack of criticism, you assume that you’re doing a good enough job.

On the second month, you begin to make lunches for him in addition to your usual routine. Uncle Kenny had mentioned several times in secret that Levi eats fast food because of the convenience. Sometimes, he skips a meal all together when they’re especially busy. 

When you arrive to his home, you greet him with your usual smile, while he gives you a curt nod, avoiding your gaze. He shouts behind him, “Kenny, let’s go!”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him, saying, “Oh, Mr. Ackerman! Before you leave, I prepared lunch for you.”

He whips around to face you, eyes narrowed as if you just insulted him. “What?”

Nervous now, you stammer, “I made you lunch. I heard that sometimes you skip meals, so I thought – ”

He steps towards you, glaring, not letting you finish. “This isn’t part of the list. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” He turns on his heel, leaving you stunned as he heads for the car, slamming the door shut. 

You scurry into the kitchen, face hot, reeling over his unpleasant reaction to your simple gesture. Kenny leans back in his chair, feet up on the table, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Morning.”

“Hi Kenny.” You wash your hands at the sink, processing what just happened, growing increasingly upset. 

Kenny gets up, sliding his used mug beside you. “Thanks, darling.” Not wanting to waste your efforts, you call out to him, opening the fridge to retrieve the bento you prepared, handing it to him. 

“What’s this?” he asks, smirking.

“I made it for Mr. Ackerman, but he doesn’t want it. I don’t want it to go to waste,” you explain.

He smiles, genuinely grateful, the expression you were mistakenly expecting from Levi. “Thank you. Take care.” 

When he’s gone, you take a minute in the kitchen to relax, reminding yourself to stick to the list and not do anything extra just because you think he’d appreciate it. You’ve leaned your lesson based on today: Mr. Ackerman doesn’t appreciate anything or anyone. And you won’t be an exception.

~~~

Levi sulks silently in the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window while Kenny drives them to HQ. He’s replaying the interaction from earlier, recalling the hurt look in her eyes as he spat those harsh words to her. He’s an idiot. All he could have said was no thank you. He shouldn’t have berated her for doing something nice for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to appear vulnerable, like he needed her to do it for him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.

He catches Kenny shooting glances at him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing better than to rile his nephew up when he’s in one of these moods. They make it to headquarters as normal, and Levi goes about the day, almost forgetting about the incident. Almost.  

Around noon, Kenny drives Levi and two of his henchmen across town to collect money from a client who’s been skipping out on payments recently. Levi doesn’t expect to resort to violence, so he stays inside the car while the two muscles go out and fulfill their orders. Kenny reclines, reaching his long arm towards the backseat, retrieving a small bento box. “Grub time.”

Levi scowls. “What are you doing?”

“Eating lunch, what do you think?” He uncovers it, licking his lips as his picks up a tamago sando from inside. It looks delicious, from the soft bread to the golden yellow filling. Levi’s stomach growls as he stares at his uncle bite into it. “Damn, that’s good!”

“Where did you get that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

He shrugs, engulfing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Your housekeeper. Said you didn’t want it, so she gave it to me instead. Shit, that’s good!”

Levi huffs through his teeth, annoyed, but also very hungry. He snatches it from his uncle’s lap, inspecting it himself. Kenny doesn’t protest, only chuckles, licking his fingers. It’s truly an enticing sight, much better than the typical burger and fries he’s used to. He picks it up delicately, relishing how pillowy the bread is between his fingers. It’s devoured quickly, and Levi regrets watching his uncle eat part it, hoping he had it all for himself. In the bottom layer of the bento box are baby carrots and sliced cucumbers, which Levi munches on until his crew comes back, knuckles a bit bloodied and a stack of cash in their hands. 

At night, Levi enters the door, a pang of guilt in his chest. He doesn’t plan to mention it; he’d rather forget and move on, pretend it never even happened. Tonight’s dinner is yakisoba, a meal she has since perfected since starting a month ago. She serves it to him, pouring hot tea into his mug, then takes her usual spot, her expression neutral. She reports on each task she completed today, starting with the kitchen, where she cleans up whatever disgusting mess Kenny leaves at the table. She scrubs the counters until they’re sparkling, mops the floors, reorganizes the refrigerator, unloads the dishwasher from the night before. Next is the living room, where she vacuums the carpets, dusts all the drawers, wipes each and every appliance with a specialized solution to prevent streaks. Then It’s laundry, and she never mentions the splatters of blood that are sometimes on his dress shirts depending on what kind of day it is. She uses the exact method he uses to wash them until they look good as new, as if he isn’t part of the gang life. 

She finishes her list, looking at Levi, waiting for his nod of approval, which he gives. She’s done a decent job so far; in fact, his home looks just as tidy as it did when he spent two hours each morning doing it himself. He stares down at his plate, eating the rest of his noodles in silence.

“Mr. Ackerman?”

His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, anticipating whatever she’s about to say. Without looking up, he mutters, “What?”

She clears his throat nervously. “Earlier today, about lunch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I hope you can forgive me.”

He senses her gaze on him, but he’s too embarrassed to meet it, slurping the rest of his food without responding. She doesn’t say anything else, leaving it at that. When he’s done, she gathers the dirty dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, starting the cycle. Levi goes into his room, stuffing her payment for today in an envelope, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Just say it. Don’t be an asshole. She doesn’t deserve it.

She waits for him at the doorway, coat and shoes on, ready to leave. He hands her the money, keeping his grip on it when she accepts it. “You don’t have to apologize. I ate it, and it was delicious. So…thank you.” He looks at her this time, wanting to convey to her that he truly means it. 

Her eyes widen, clearly surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s surprised himself; he just couldn’t let her leave thinking she didn’t anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the way I reacted. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” He knows she doesn’t need an explanation from him, but he tells her anyways. 

She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m happy to do it. I prepared another one for tomorrow.”

Nodding, he lets go, watching her slide the envelope into her bag. “Goodnight, Mr. Ackerman.”

He opens the door for her. “Levi. You can call me Levi. It makes me feel old when you call me that. We’re around the same age, right?”

She giggles, making his chest swell. “Right. Well then, goodnight Levi.”

He waits until she disappears into the distance, heading to the nearby train station. With the door shut, he leans against it, sighing heavily, his heart beating rapidly.

This is bad. 

~~~

On the third month of working as a housekeeper and cook for Levi Ackerman, something extraordinary happens. 

You’ve gotten more cordial with each other in the past few weeks, ever since you began making lunches for him on a regular basis. You know he isn’t picky when it comes to food, but you’ve noticed subtle differences when he thanks you for the meal, which he always does now. If it ends in a simple thanks, you know that it was ordinary. If he adds in a compliment, you know that he really likes it. So, you cook more of the foods that he particularly enjoys. 

You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name. It still sounds foreign out of your mouth, almost like a treasured word you’re only supposed to say on special occasions. You still mostly call him Mr. Ackerman, though he doesn’t seem to mind. 

Other than what you see of him in the mornings and nights, you have no idea what Levi gets up to the rest of his day. It’s an unwritten part of the deal; you keep your private life to yourselves. And, knowing he’s in the Yakuza, maybe it’s better you don’t know. 

Tonight, you finish cooking dinner before Levi comes home. You cover the pan, keeping the oyakodon you prepared warm until he arrives, all the plates set up on the counter, ready for him. You sit in your usual chair, checking the clock: 8:30 PM, thirty minutes past his usual time. By nine, you start to worry. And by ten, your finger hovers over his contact information on your phone, tempted to call him, to make sure he’s okay. You debate with yourself for several minutes if you should go through with it. You were given this number only to use for emergencies. Would this be considered one? Surely, he has an entire team of people who look after him, being the leader and all. Why would he need you, his lowly housekeeper, looking out for him?

Deep down, it’s because you care. You care about him. You want him to be happy. And it’s not because he pays you at the end of the day. It’s because you truly, genuinely believe he deserves it. Even in the short time that you’ve known him, it’s plain to see how miserable he is in this life of crime. Dead eyes, permanent frown on his face, tense muscles from having no moment throughout his day to relax. No one, not even a Yakuza leader himself, deserves to be under this much stress.  

You’re about ready to dial his number when you hear the distinct jingle of keys from the front door. Levi walks in, hunched over with his jacket tossed over his shoulder, big splotches of blood painted on his shirt. You can see it clearly even from the end of the hallway. He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t look at you, as he drags his feet into the living to plop himself onto the couch, sighing. 

“Mr. Ackerman?” you call out, trembling. You’ve never seen him like this before. Is he injured? Or is he the one who did the injuring? Does it matter to you what the answer is? All you know is that you’re concerned about him and you want to be by his side. 

~~~

Levi hears her but doesn’t respond. He sinks deeper into the couch, eyes shut, hoping she ignores him, not wanting her to see him in this sorry state. He listens to the sound of her footsteps approaching closer, then feels her sit beside him. With one eye open, he peeks at her, surprised to see her staring at him with genuine concern, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. “Mr. Ackerman,” she repeats.

“What do you want?” he asks tersely. He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely. Or maybe he does to push her away. He doesn’t want her to witness this vulnerability, this weakness.  

“I brought you some tea,” she answers quietly.

Before he can spit out an argument about how the caffeine will prevent him from sleeping, she adds, “It’s decaf, of course.”

He’s speechless for a moment, unable to come up with a smart response. His heart beats against his chest and he’s not sure what’s happening to him. Is he going into cardiac arrest? Or is this something different? Something good? Too exhausted to maintain the same frigid persona he puts up for her, he relaxes, reaching for her hands to grab the handle of the mug. He grazes her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, lingering for a second longer, then brings it to his lips, blowing air across the surface before taking a sip. It’s hot down his throat, filling his tired body with warmth and comfort. 

He peeks at her once more, focusing on the gentle smile on her lips. “What are you so happy about?” he asks, taking another sip. 

She looks down at her lap, shy now that she’s been called out. “I’m just happy you’re back in one piece.”

He scoffs, displaying his bruised and stained knuckles. “You call this one piece?”

She stares at his hands with terror or fascination, maybe even both. Levi can’t tell. All he knows is that she isn’t flinching away from him like he’s some monster; she leans closer, inspecting it carefully. “Hold on,” she says, standing up to retreat back into the kitchen.

Levi rests his head against the couch, stomach grumbling with hunger. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and beating the shit out of people takes a toll on him. But the job is done and now he’s home. And for the first time, he realizes how grateful he is not to be alone. 

Minutes later, she returns with a tray, carrying a steaming bowl of oyakodon and two warm towels beside it. She sets it next to him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of him, beside his knees. He gulps, suddenly aware at how compromising this position may seem. Though, he doesn’t mind it. He slowly reaches over to grab hold on the chopsticks, digging into the bowl of food to take a bite. It’s warm and soothing in his mouth, exactly what he needed. 

“May I?” She peers up at him, pointing to his other hand, holding the damp towel. 

He’s hesitant at first, aware that she’ll be touching him. This is definitely crossing a line, right? However, the thought of being pampered in this moment when he’s so fucking tired is too enticing to refuse. He stretches his arms out, offering his fist to her. She surrounds him in the soft fabric, rubbing gently between his knuckles, wiping away all the grime from tonight’s violence. His skin is on fire from her indirect touch and he can’t help but wonder what effect she could have on his body if she were actually touching him. 

Skin in pristine condition, despite the temporary bruises, she switches to the other hand once he’s finished with his meal. He watches her in silence, holding back a moan, embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this. She finishes him off with the second towel, the clean one, giving both hands a little massage. “Is that better?”

He nods, muttering a tired, “Thank you.”

She smiles, gaze flickering to the stains on his shirt. “I can wash this for you tomorrow. Just leave it in the laundry room.”

He nods again, unsure what else to say. She gets up, carrying the empty bowl and soiled towels back into the kitchen to clean up. It’s almost eleven now when Levi flips his wrist to check the time on his watch. Trains stop running by midnight, so he shouldn’t keep her here any longer. “You should head home now. It’s late,” he says, loud enough for her to hear. He stands up, slightly limping towards his bedroom to give her the payment. He slides an extra couple of bills to compensate for working overtime. Noticing how horrid he looks with blood all over him, he strips out of his shirt, thankful none of it seeped directly onto his skin. Without thinking, he rushes towards the front door, where she waits for him in her coat and shoes. 

He hands her the money. “I’m giving you a small bonus today, just in case you’re wondering why there’s more in there.” 

She glances at his chiseled abs before looking down at her feet. Heat rushes into his cheeks, finally aware that he’s shirtless in front of his housekeeper. This is definitely crossing a line. 

“It’s okay, I don’t want the extra money,” she says.

“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he insists.

“I didn’t do it for that. I did it because I care about you. I want to - ” She gazes at him, swallowing hard, afraid to finish her thought. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach as he steps closer to her, eager to hear it. “What?”

“I want to take care of you, Mr. Ackerman.”

It happens so fast that as soon as he realizes it, his lips are already on hers, kissing her passionately. His immediate reaction is to stop because he’s sure this isn’t what she intended. But when she places her hands on his chest, clinging to his bare skin to deepen the kiss, he can’t resist. 

~~~

Clothes are discarded on the way to his bedroom. By the time you’re lying flat on his mattress, you’re both completely naked, him on top of you, caging you between his muscular arms. He kisses your figure, from your neck trailing down to your chest, his lips puckered at your nipple, sucking on it until it’s taut in his mouth. One hand travels along the curve of your hips, then the plush of your inner thigh, until he’s pressed to your throbbing clit. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, his voice low and trembling. 

“Yes,” you breathe out, completely enraptured by him.

He flicks your bud with his middle finger, tapping on it until it’s puffy against him. He glides down to your wet slit, collecting your arousal to smear onto your clit, rubbing it faster. Pleasure courses through you as you whine into his mouth, kissing him sloppily. Soon, he slips inside you, pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy. You squirm for him, so close to your climax.  

“You like my fingers inside this fucking cunt, huh?” he growls into your ear. He pulls out, stroking your clit with his wet digits. “How about here? You like them on your little clit too, right pretty girl?”

Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. “Yes, Mr. Ackerman. Fuck.”

“Levi,” he grunts, circling your bud. “I told you to call me Levi.” He slips back in, pummeling your pussy while his thumb taps on your swollen core. 

You grab the bedsheets beneath you, clenching it between your fists, bucking your hips towards him, approaching your orgasm. “Coming,” you manage to whimper, unraveling. He slows his pace, riding it out with you until you relax in his hold, spent and blissed out. 

There’s a wild look in his eyes, animalistic almost. He removes himself from you, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth, inching them past your lips. “Taste yourself for me.”

You obey, opening wide for him to swipe your own cum across your tongue. He sticks it further down your throat while you surround him, sucking your slick off. His erection is hard against you, begging for attention. You slide your hand between his thighs, palming at his stiff cock, twitching at your touch. 

“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. You start stroking him, his cock hot and pulsating in your fist. He bucks into your grasp, moaning as you rub your thumb over his glossy tip, making him shudder. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, fuck. Get on top of me. Please. Need to taste you.”

You obey, readjusting yourself to straddle his face, lowering yourself carefully until your pressed to his open mouth. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he says before lapping you up greedily. You ride his face, dragging your pussy lips across his flattened tongue, moaning when he puckers around you, suckling on your swelling bud. He’s sloppy and noisy, exactly how you like it. You find yourself unraveling quickly above him, convinced you can come just like this, without him entering you at all. He senses this, grabbing firmly to your ass cheeks, guiding you to rock against him faster. “That’s it, princess. Come for me,” he muffles against your skin, slurping at your leaking cunt. No longer able to resist, you moan loudly, reaching your climax, gushing all over his face. He smacks your ass, licking off every drop of your arousal before removing himself from you. “I need to be inside you. Need to fuck this pretty pussy right fucking now.”

All control lost, you whine, “Fuck me, Levi. Fuck me, please.”

He positions himself behind you, dragging your bottom towards him, rubbing his erection between your ass cheeks. “Think you’ve earned this cock? Think you deserve it?”

You nod frantically. “Yes. I’ve been so good.”

He chuckles, guiding himself inside you, stretching you out slowly as he inches his way deeper. “You’re right. You’ve been very good. You are good. So fucking good to me.” He pounds into you, fucking your sweet spot, chasing that high you’re both so desperate to reach. After a few more thrusts, your pussy squeezes around him, coming once more. He follows with his own orgasm, shooting his load inside you, filling you up with his cum.

He pulls out, rolling beside you, breathing heavily. You turn to your side, facing him, your senses gradually returning. He glances at you and breaks into a smile, the first you’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”

You grin, scooting closer to nuzzle your nose with his. “Like what?”

His eyes gaze into yours, flickering down your lips. “Like you want to kiss me.”

You inch closer. “Why is that so bad?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he whispers, closing the gap, kissing you.

~~~

On her last day, Levi leaves her final payment on the top of his dresser. It’s next to a thicker envelope that she’s collected the entirety of her father’s debt in, ready to hand over to Kenny first thing in the morning. She could have paid it off sooner, a week sooner, to be exact. But she decides to finish the remainder of the month employed as Levi’s housekeeper. She doesn’t explain why, and he doesn’t ask. 

They snuggle together in his bed, ready to sleep after fucking each other stupid just minutes earlier. This is another added part of their routine. Sometimes, she leaves to check in on her mother back home. Other times, she stays the night, which Levi prefers, though he won’t admit it out loud. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.

He can tell she’s on the verge of sleep by the way her eyes flutter closed and how her head falls into his chest, relaxed. His mind is racing with thoughts, so he’s wide awake, wondering what tomorrow will hold. Will she say goodbye to him forever? Is this really over? What will he do when she’s gone?

He realizes his true feelings for her almost immediately after they begin sleeping together. He’s never relinquished control to anyone else before. But for him, giving it to her was easy. Maybe because he knew he could trust her. Though, now with her employment coming to an end, he’s not so sure what to think.

“Levi?” Her soft voice surprises him. 

“Hey,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

She tips her chin up, peering at him. “Not yet. I want to say something to you.” 

He stares at her, confused and anxious, listening. “I care about you, Levi. I don’t want this to stop just because whatever arrangement we had before is over.”

He swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression as his heart races with joy. “So, what then? Do you want to keep being my housekeeper? I already feel weird paying you because of what we do.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be your housekeeper. I want to be your girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“Yes, Levi. Your girlfriend,” she reiterates, smiling. 

He lets out a small laugh. “That sounds so normal.”

She cups his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Well, maybe Mr. Ackerman deserves a little something normal for once.”

He chuckles, nuzzling into her touch. “So, how is this going to work, then? You being my girlfriend.”

“Well, I’ll get my old job back. And in the meantime, I can move in here so I can still do all the cooking and cleaning.”

“No,” he interjects. “Together. We’ll cook and clean together. Like a normal couple.”

She beams at him. “Alright. Together it is, then.”

He allows himself to smile completely now, pressing his forehead to hers. “Can it really be this simple?” 

“I think it can,” she replies. “It’s worth a shot, right?”

“Hey, Shachi.”

“Uh-huh?”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?”

Shachi chokes on his drink before looking at you with a blush creeping up his face, where on earth did that question come from and why are you being so casual about it??

The Heart Pirates are having a party, celebrating a successful haul of pirate hearts to help your captain in becoming a Warlord, though Law is nowhere to be seen, you think he’s probably already turned in. Parties aren’t really his thing no matter how much he cares for you all. You had stepped to the side a while ago, feeling a little too warm surrounded by so many people and the alcohol you’d had, Shachi eventually came over to keep you company even when you didn’t say much and just gave him a smile before leaning against him once he sat beside you.

Its not really a secret how much Shachi likes you, everyone can see it just in the way he interacts with you. He doesn’t treat you like you’re weak and need him all the time, but he helps you with anything you need and fights alongside you as seamlessly as he does with Penguin or Bepo. He’s eager to work with you every day, volunteering to be your partner anytime Law places you on night watch or ship maintenance,  sometimes you offer to stay with him if he's left to watch the ship when you all dock. You two are able to have fun together without feeling like you’re boring the other, sometimes you two do your own work in silence buts never awkward or uncomfortable, it’s always welcome and makes you feel calm, you’re comfortable about Shachi and he’s the same with you.

But every now and then you bring up something like this and it makes him blush, his heart racing and he’s sure this is only because of the alcohol you’ve had.

“I…w-why are you asking??” he laughs, trying to not focus on it too much but you keep staring at him as you lean into him more. “Of…of course I have!”

For all the times he and Penguin have gone looking for girls and having drinks with them, Shachi has never actually kissed or slept any of them. He’s not entirely sure why, he was also so eager to try and woo someone when they went out, though more often than not the girls would flirt back but nothing ever came about from it. Then you joined the crew and he just…stopped. Stopped following Penguin into the bars, he quit trying to flirt with every girl he thought was attractive, he asked more and more to stay on board with you when Law was looking for volunteers to watch the ship. It was like you flipped a switch in him that made Shachi less likely to go after other girls, it was such a sudden change that Penguin thought he was sick until Ikkaku said Shachi definitely had feelings for you and that’s why he stopped going with his best friend to some places.

“Oh…I wanted to be your first.”

He chokes on his drink before looking at you with such a bright red blush, anyone else would think you’ve said something scandalous or that he’s just drunk and having inappropriate thoughts.

“I…you…what?!” if you hadn’t already asked him about kissing his mind would be running to a thousand other conclusions (first date, first time?!), “You…no you don’t!”

“I’m pretty sure I do…or did I guess.”

Wow he didn’t expect you to sound so disappointed, but you look down and away, leaning back against the wall you’re both sitting at. He feels bad for lying to you, but he didn’t think you’d actually want to kiss him if he had no experience with it, most of the girls he’d flirt with in the past always seemed turned off when they figured out he’s never done anything more than hold hands and flirt, they always expect him to be more experienced when they find out he’s a pirate.

He watches you for a minute, still thinking all of this is because you’re drunk, before Shachi stands and takes your hand, pulling you up and out of the room with him to the hallway. You’re confused, especially when he stops and has you against the wall, trapping you with his arms but not looking you in the eye.

“Shachi, what are—”

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I lied…about having kissed someone…”

You’re quiet, a small ‘oh’ coming from you when you realize what he’s said. The part of you that’s still sober wants to ask him why, but when you see how red his face you don’t bother listening to that side, especially when he looks at you all embarrassed and you feel a blush start to creep onto your face.

Cute…he’s so cute…

“I…lots of girls don’t like when I say that I haven’t kissed anyone so…I just—”

Shachi is surprised when you kiss him, eyes widening for a moment before he kisses you back, taking your face in his hands while you hold onto his tank top. Its short and sweet, makes him want more, especially when you pull back to look at him.

“Now you’re not a liar if someone asks.”

You give him a grin that makes him almost laugh at you, instead kissing you again and moving his hands to your waist to pull you closer to him, you still grip his tank top but press yourself closer to him. Your sober side wonders if it's the alcohol that’s made you both so bold, this isn’t something you’d ever do and with the way Shachi is, you think he’s the same. You’d normally take your time to get to know someone more before running off to make out with them, but you’ve known Shachi long enough now that this kind of makes sense.

Ikkaku will be surprised you think, that you finally made a move on Shachi after the last several months of pining away and whining to her about much you like him and wish he’d do something or that you weren’t too nervous to ask him out yourself.

 The more tipsy side of you wants to sneak off somewhere else and see where this leads. Shachi seems eager to find out the same, keeping an arm around your waist while he starts to move his other hand up your shirt, maybe you should move to your room and--

“Ahem.”

Shachi only pulls away from you when he hears Law clearing his throat, you whine when he does so but your companion’s face is bright red, embarrassed to have been caught making out with you in the hallway only because it’s your captain and Law looks less than enthused at this. You’re too drunk to care but Shachi is stammering, trying to get something out of his mouth, anything to justify to Law why you two were making out in the hallway, though your captain just looks between you both. You’ve still got a grip on his tank top while Shachi has one arm around you and his other hand up your shirt, the flush of your face mixed with his blush would make Penguin laugh if he saw it, but this is Law and he’s just giving you both the most straight laced, stoic look you’ve seen from him.

“Hallways aren’t for making out.”

“Cap, sorry, I, we…well…uh…”

You giggle a little and lay your head on his chest, Law sighs and rolls his eyes before nodding his head to a supply closet.

“At least go into another room,” your next giggle tells Law just how inebriated you are so he adds, “Just no rooms with a bed, we don’t need any babies on this ship.”

“Right! Sure, sorry, Law! We’ll do that!!”

Shachi grabs your hand and starts leading you off elsewhere as you question him, Law steps out of the way and watches as you’re led away, hopefully to the supply closet if you’re going to continue making out or the kitchen to get sober, he’d prefer the latter so you two aren’t tempted to ignore his “no beds” warning.

With another sigh, Law shakes his head and starts heading to the common area and the party, and slight smirk on his face.

steps:

i. i have picked 3 organisations whose work are really close to my heart. they all, in a way, intertwine with issues and discrimination (mainly racism and LGBTQIA+phobia) we see in the PPCU fandom every single day. these are:

UNRWA - providing aid to Palestine - read about their work - DONATE (accepts many currencies) Immigration Advocates - pro-bono or low-cost immigration lawyers fighting for immigrants' rights in the US - read about their work - DONATE (only accepts USD) TransActual - fighting for trans and non-binary rights in the UK - read about their work - DONATE (only accepts GBP)

i have already donated £5 to UNRWA, £5 to TransActual and $5 to Immigration Advocates to make sure i can make the payments without issue and they all have gone through. with all three organisations, you do receive an email to confirm the donation.

p.s. even if the donations are in specific currencies, you can still make the donation! your bank account usually makes the currency exchange. or if you have a banking app with different currencies (e.g. revolut, monzo, wise, etc), then please use that!

ii. make the donation through their websites, following the prompts. the donations that carry a prize are €/$/£5, €/$/£10 or ≥€/$/£15, so please keep this in mind if you are wanting to claim your gift!

you'll have to choose between a single donation or a monthly one, it's up to you! :) if you have any questions, please let me know.

please save any proof of payment, e.g. email receipt showing the donation amount. avoid screenshotting your bank app please. blank out any identifying personal/card details.

iii. claim your prize! please submit an ask with proof of payment (this can be submitted privately via DM or discord if you prefer), and i will be matching your donation. tell me what gift you want!

any amount below €/$/£5 carries no prize, however i'm still matching these donations! please send me proof of it and i'll donate too <3 moodboard - €/$/£5 - pick a pp boy of your liking and tell me a bit about what you'd like the moodboard to be about! if you're a writer, you can request a moodboard for one of your fics. drabble (250-500 words) - €/$/£10 - i currently only write for joel miller, javier peña, marcus acacius and din djarin. pick one of them and tell me a bit about what you'd like the story to be about! e.g. trope, genre (smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, etc), a specific prompt, a picture/image/pinterest board that may be inspiring to you, etc. moodboard + drabble (>500 words) - €/$/£15 or more - a combination of both options above!

it may take me a bit to get back to all of you depending on how many submissions/donations there are, but please know that this is at the top of my priority list.

and lastly...

from the bottom of my heart, thank you all. every single one of you are what makes this fandom, what keeps it alive. creators and readers alike, we keep the boat afloat! this is a way for us to give back to the community together, to uphold the values of what fandom really is about.

i'm not tagging any moots because i don't want anyone to feel pressured to participate, as i know money can be tight. but i would be eternally grateful to those who share for this to reach a wider audience.

love,

arran xx