#I know I had like. drawings of this AU before posted somewhere on here

[japhers]

wicked yaoi- (the authorities drag me away

[cinnamonest]

I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Slip Into Me: Part 1 Saved Before Dusk✨

QZ! Joel x fem! reader

Series Masterlist Kofi

A/N: This just stumbled upon me when I was driving home from work this week, so I wrote this in about a day. I’m still not sure how I feel about the first chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for giving this a read for me! (I cannot keep up with tags, so be sure to go follow my notifications blog if you want to be notified when I post @mermaidgirl30-updates)

Chapter Summary: You run into trouble with one of the FEDRA soldiers, but a broad, handsome stranger comes along and intervenes.

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapter Tags: QZ! Joel, outbreak au, FEDRA soldier tries to attack reader, Joel steps in and saves reader, soft Joel, a bit of pining and a little flirting, eventual smut in next chapter, no use y/n

Word Count: 6.1k

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  The Boston QZ is grimy, filthy, overrun with FEDRA soldiers who stalk and parade up and down the city of turmoil. Their tanks fill the streets night and day, ordering people around as if they were their own personal slaves. The buildings are rundown, furniture tattered and torn, bodies filing in and out day after day just trying to survive off the little ration cards they collect every week. 

   It’s not a place you wanted to stumble upon, not a home at all. But this was where you’d stay for now because your group was all gone, killed by feral raiders who murdered your friends in cold blood. You were the only one left, untouched in an infected world. You were lucky to make it out alive, but at what cost? You sure as hell didn’t want to stay here in this cage. But you guess it’s better than being attacked by infected or murdered in your sleep. 

   They offered you a little apartment, ration cards for a hard day’s work cleaning and organizing weapons for FEDRA. You don’t trust any of the soldiers, don’t dare look them in the eyes most days, only when you have to. Maybe one day you’ll make it out of here alive, but for now this place is giving you shelter, food, running water, electricity. It sure beats living on your own out in the woods somewhere where no one else can defend you. You’ve learned to be on your own, but that doesn’t mean you like it. 

   The air is warm as dusk draws near, the summer heat stifling even as you walk through the shade. Your shift is over, dinner gone and finished, so now it’s time to go back to your cold, lonely apartment. Maybe tonight you’ll actually get some decent sleep instead of waking up screaming from nightmares of distant times. You still see faces of loved ones you lost get murdered by infected and raiders, friends starve to death, companions freeze to death. You don’t know how you made it all this way, but you did. You had to stop holding on to the past, it wasn’t coming back for you. 

   You swipe your fingers against the cool bricks of falling apart buildings, making your way through the narrow alleyway that’ll lead to your apartment building. Just as you pass a stairwell on the side of the brick building, a dark shadow makes its way toward you. 

   You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks, fingertips still tracing the rough bricks. There’s a tall FEDRA man walking toward you. Navy blue pants, combat boots, a camouflage vest strapped tight to his chest. He looks menacing. Piercing blue eyes narrowing your way, coarse blonde locks that look like pure ice, a large scar running down the side of his dirty neck, and fists locked tight at his sides. 

   “Hey, girl. What do you think you’re doing out here all alone? Up to no good I suppose?” he asks as he stalks toward you like a hungry tiger, eyes locked with yours as a smirk meets his chapped lips. 

   You back up to the brick wall, feeling like you could sink like jello into the dusty cracks of the brown faded bricks. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. You’re trapped like a helpless little mouse. “No, I’m just trying to get back to my apartment.”

   “Sun’s about to go down, shouldn’t be out so late in the day close to curfew. You’re up to no good, aren’t ya? Trying to sneak around and steal some ration cards?”

   “No, I…”

   “Don’t lie!” He bites back, jaw seething as he pulls your wrist and clamps down on your skin. It feels like wires setting your nerves on fire, like he’s ripping through your delicate bones. 

   “Please, I’m only trying to get back. Let me go,” you beg, using all your might to get out of his tight grip. 

   “I don’t think so, love. Thieves get searched, and I’m gonna search you till I find what I’m looking for,” he snarks. 

   Before you can fight your way out of this mess, he spins you around and pins you to the wall, slamming your face into the sharp bricks as you cry out in pain. He crowds your body, digging his fingers into your hips as his other hand shoves your face against the searing surface. You can’t break free, can’t fight your way out of this. He’s too strong, too overpowering. You’re completely helpless. 

   “Please, stop,” you whine, feeling a warm tear slip down your cheek. 

   “No, I don’t think so, doll. Think I’ll stay right here between your…”

   Before he can finish his sentence, you hear a deep gruff voice growl behind you. “Get the fuck off her, Seth.” You feel the soldier’s weight being dragged off you, hear the sounds of a body being thrown into the side of the opposite wall. 

   You spin around and freeze, watching a stranger punch the soldier’s face with bruised knuckles. The soldier spits blood from his mouth, but the other man grabs the edge of his navy collar and pins his back against the brick wall.

   “Think you’re a tough guy, Seth? Think it’s alright to put your filthy hands on her? I’m sure she didn’t ask you to, so mind your fuckin’ manners and keep your goddamn paws off her,” he growls, spitting up into the soldier’s wide eyes.

   You don’t know what to do, what to think. All your brain can do is eye the back of the man who saved you. He’s tall, so very broad, wide shoulders, tousled dark curls that probably feel like silk. His green flannel is rolled up to his elbows, exposing cascading veins that drape down his tanned skin, ending in massive calloused hands. His dark jeans are faded, worn brown boots covering his feet. He looks like your knight in shining armor, your saving grace. Why he saved you, you don’t know. But you want to find out, now. 

   The soldier laughs in his face, but he only grips his collar tighter as he sends another punch to his swollen eye. When he spits more blood, he turns back to your savior and laughs casually like he didn’t just get beaten up. “Fancy meeting you here, Miller. Say, you ever find those cigarettes and drugs we sent you out for?”

   He clenches his jaw, releasing his collar so he can push the soldier again against the wall. “Ain’t got nothin’ for you, Seth. You want some, you can give me more ration cards,” he hisses. 

   The soldier laughs, shaking his head back and forth. “Five,” he wagers. 

   “Ten,” the broad man demands with narrowed eyes. 

   He raises his hands in defeat and sighs. “Fine, ten it is. Just hurry up with my order, will ya?”

   The other man slaps his face, hard. You can practically hear the split of a rubber band snapping against skin. The soldier cowers over, holding the side of his mouth in pain as he stands back up slowly. “Tell me to hurry up one more time, and I’ll break your jaw,” he seethes. “I’ll do it when I’m good and ready, Seth. You’ll be the very last.”

   He narrows his cold blue eyes, pointing a finger accusingly at the man who saved you. “Better watch it, Miller.”

   “You threatening me? I shouldn’t be the one that’s careful, you be careful. Wait till Tess hears about this,” he growls with furrowed eyebrows. 

   Seth backs up all wide-eyed and bruised, like he’s afraid of the name Tess. Before he can get anywhere, the broad bodied man nods his head to him. “Get out of here, and don’t mess with this girl again. Got it?” he growls with the bite of his scowling jaw. 

   Seth looks over at you and nods before he runs off in the opposite direction, clutching his vest like it’s the only thing keeping him at bay. 

   He huffs out a deep breath and turns to you, furrowed eyebrows turning into a contemplative, concerned expression. Your eyes go wide, taking in the front of his face for the first time. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Dark brown eyes that look like pools of honey hone your vision, sweaty, tanned skin glistening in the fading light of day. His dark beard is threaded with silver, a strong jaw set with plush lips that half open when he looks at you. He’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and he’s so fucking broad. You decide then that his eyes could kill, they could devastate anyone in their wake by how beautiful they are. Warm chocolate eyes flecked with wisps of honey brown. Absolutely breathtaking.

   “You alright there?” he asks with concern lathered in his voice, careful with his large steps as he walks up to you. 

   “Oh, I’m… yeah, I’m fine,” you breathe out, suddenly forgetful on how to take deep breaths. Your heart is racing wildly, you swear it’s about to fly out of your chest. 

   He reaches out, but stops himself. Instead, he just points out the left side of your face. “Your face. You’re hurt,” he says with a scowl, clenching his hand into a tight fist at his side like he’s furious at the soldier for hurting you.

   Your hand shoots up to the side of your face, and that’s when you feel it. The blood, the aching feeling of having your face bashed into the hard bricks. “Ahh, fuck,” you whine, hissing when you try to brush your fingertips over the swelling area. 

   “Here, c’mon. Follow me. I’ll get ya taken care of. I’ve got supplies back at my place. Can fix ya up in no time,” he offers as he nods his head for you to follow. You stay put, weighing your options. You don’t know this man, but he saved you, so he must be safe.

   He takes a few steps forward and turns back around when he doesn’t see you following. “You comin’?” he asks with hope in his brown eyes. 

   You take a moment to breathe and then nod, agreeing to go with him. “Yeah, lead the way.”

   You follow after him, letting him lead you away from the narrow, dark alleyway. When you get on the sidewalk of the main street you notice he walks on the outside of you, like he’s shielding you from any other soldiers who might give you a hard time. You don’t know why he does it, but you owe him a huge debt now. 

   You cross your arms over your teal t-shirt, looking up at the tall man who saved your life while he leads you to building two where he must live. You’re about to speak, but he beats you to it. “You know, you shouldn’t be out alone when the sun’s about to go down. A bunch of no good soldiers swarmin’ the streets here. What were you even doin’ out?” he asks, turning to a stairwell where he leads you up to the second floor. 

   “I was just heading back to my apartment. I got a late start with work today, had some things to finish up.”

   He hums, looking back at you with furrowed brows. “Next time walk back with someone. Seth ain’t the only lowlife soldier. Gotta be more careful,” he tsks as he takes out a golden key in the pocket of his denim jeans. 

   You sigh, feeling as if he’s somehow blaming you for not knowing the safety rules around here. “Look, I’m new here. I didn’t know any better. I was just trying to get back to my place. I didn’t… I didn’t…”

   “Whoa, hey. S’alright. Nobody said you did anythin’ wrong. I’m jus’ sayin’ watch yourself. Alright?” he asks with his hands raised, like he means no harm. 

   You drop your guard and sigh. “Sorry, just a little on edge,” you mutter. 

   “Don’t blame ya one bit. Now, c’mon. Take a seat at the table. I’ll get you a warm washcloth,” he instructs as he opens the rusted red door, the hinges squeaking while you make your way into his little apartment. 

   He shuts the door, and you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered with chipped white paint, the kitchen tiny, a little solid wooden table surrounded by two brown dining room chairs. The living room is open, a sunken leather couch with a broken coffee table sitting in the middle of an old, threaded blue rug. White satin stain coated curtains cover the glass window, and light shines dimly throughout the small apartment. It’s worn down, but it’s cozy enough. 

   You make your way over to one of the chairs, slowly pulling it back as to not make it drag across the hardwood floor. When you get comfy in the back of the chair, you watch Joel disappear into the other room, listening to the trickle of a running faucet while the bathroom light shines down the narrow hallway. 

   You fidget your fingers together, tapping your foot nervously on the dusty floor. You’re in his apartment, the man who just saved your life. And he’s tall, broad, and devastatingly handsome. His looks could surely kill a man with just the gaze of those dark flecked eyes. He had danger written all over those honey colored eyes. Eyes that could eat you alive.  

   He comes back down the hall a minute later, tan washcloth in hand, flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, corded veins skating all the way down to his massive hands. You’re nervous just by those large, thick fingers grasping the washcloth. You wonder what they’d feel like on your skin. Maybe like burning fire, hot charcoal, extreme heat rushing off his rough fingertips. He might feel like wildfire. 

   He pulls up the kitchen chair across from you and grunts when he sits, like his whole body hurts from the weight of working in the summer heat of the QZ. “Look up for me,” he requests, sliding his chair a tad bit closer to yours, enough to brush his knees against yours. 

   You gasp when his fingertips meet your skin, his hand cupping your chin and turning your injured cheek to where he can reach you. You were right. His fingers do feel like wildfire, calluses gliding against your smooth skin as he gets a good hold on you. It’s almost enough to send you jolting from the chair. 

   “This might sting a bit. Jus’ hold still,” he says gently, a deep voice escaping behind plush lips. You wince a little when the warm material meets your wound, but you relax when he gives you that certain look that says be still. 

   You hiss a little at the contact of the warm cloth across the scrapes on the side of your face. He makes eye contact with you and asks with those deep brown eyes if you’re okay, stopping his movements for just a second before you nod and let him continue. 

   From here you can see how clear the dark flecks in his eyes shine, a faint red scar above his right eye, silver threaded coarse beard that looks almost soft to the touch, and pink lips that look so inviting. He watches you study him, his own eyes flicking back and forth from your injury to your eyes, silently assessing you with a wary stare. 

   You see it in his eyes, he’s curious about you, maybe interested, but he doesn’t give much away. You see pain behind those dark irises, a worn body just getting by in the QZ day after day. You don’t know him, but you can tell this much. He’s reserved, quiet, careful, a man that keeps his guard up. You’d like to see behind those walls, if only for a moment. See what all he’s really been through. 

   After a couple more seconds of silence he finally talks. “You new here? Haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

   You nod, watching him trace the edges of the warm washcloth across your cheek. “Yeah. Just got here a couple weeks ago,” you murmur, clenching your jaw when he rubs against a really sore area of your cheek.

   “What the hell brought you here?” He says it rough, like he can’t believe anyone would ever dare come here by their own will. 

   “Raiders attacked my group. I was the only one left alive, and I just sort of stumbled upon the QZ gates. One of the soldiers found me and offered me a place here.”

   He hums, dark eyes assessing you slowly, sliding down your body briefly as something twists in your stomach at the sight of him really taking a good look at you. “M’sorry ‘bout your group, but I’m more sorry you ended up here in this hell hole. FEDRA runs this place, and none of ‘em are remotely friendly. Especially Seth.” He spits the name out like it’s poison on his tongue, and you see he can’t stand the man that attacked you. 

   You purse your lips and ask him the same. “And you? Why are you here?”

   He drops the washcloth from your skin, clenching his jaw as he stares with a hardline drawn on his forehead, shaping wrinkles across tanned skin. “That’s a long story that I don’t feel like answerin’ right now.”

   Before he brings the lukewarm washcloth back up you grab his wrist, preventing him from lifting his arm further. He stares at you, eyes partly narrowed, challenging you to ask him again. “At least tell me where you’re from. Your accent, are you from the south?”

   He leans back in his chair and sighs, nodding his head slowly. “Came from Austin, Texas. And you?” He raises his thick eyebrows like you owe him the same gratitude of telling him where you’re from. 

   “California. Northern part,” you answer, listening to him hum once again until he brings the washcloth back to your temple. 

   “You’re a little far from home ain’t ya?” he asks quietly while he brushes the soft material over your face. 

   “Unfortunately,” you mumble under your breath. Another flick of those pools of honey your way and you see a hint of concern, maybe even sadness buried in those flecks of darkness. He seems to have so many layers to him. You want to unravel them, unfold every piece and dig into his past, his present, his mind. And maybe you’ll get there, one day. Maybe, just maybe…

   You suddenly realize you don’t even know his name, how have you not asked him yet? You heard the soldier say Miller. Maybe that was his last name. 

   You pick at the fading denim of your jeans and raise your eyes to his hesitantly. “Your name. I didn’t catch it.”

   Another brush to your raw skin, and his soft brown eyes meet yours. “Joel Miller. And your name is?” he asks with a piqued interest, raising his eyebrows slightly. You tell him your name and he says it back to you slowly, another flick of his dark eyes over your body. Like he’s memorizing you entirely. Your name, your shape, your essence. It makes the room sticky and hot at the sight of his eyes exploring you, even if it means nothing. 

   “Joel…” you repeat, slowly spilling the syllables off the tip of your tongue. 

   “That’s right…” He says your name again slowly, like honey dripping off his warm tongue, every murmur and gruff sound making you a bit dizzy. 

   “You’re gonna be alright. Might bruise up a bit, but nothing that’ll last long. Gonna be sore tonight, jus’ clean it good and keep it dry. Ain’t gonna scar over,” he says as he nods to your face.

   He cups your chin again, turning you slightly to him as his calloused fingertips brush a strand of hair behind the slope of your ear, breathing down your neck as you finally smell him. He smells woodsy, summer sweat kissing the air, cheap whiskey filling your senses. Then he looks deep in your eyes, one hand falling slowly to the top of the table, fingertips curling over the scratched wood, his jaw flexing as his eyes travel down to your lips for just a second, a breath in time. And suddenly you’re frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, something that shouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t, he’s not…

   Another soft graze of his rough knuckles to your cheek and then the front door slams open, sending both of you back in your chairs. 

   “Joel! Got some information for you about the drugs we gotta… Oh.” She stops in the doorway, eyes wide as she looks at you, surprised Joel has company. She’s tall, thin but built with muscle. She’s strong, long brunette hair, and hazel eyes clouding her vision. 

   “Joel Miller has company? Who might this be?” she asks curiously, slamming the door shut with a bang as she folds her arms over chest and nods your way. 

   Joel introduces you two, and you quickly learn her name is Tess. “Nice to meet you, Tess,” you say with a small smile, your arm resting on the edge of the table. 

   “Likewise. What happened to you? Looks like you got knocked up pretty good there.”

   “It was Seth. Fucker had her pinned against one of the alleyway walls and was givin’ her trouble,” Joel spits as he flashes his incisors Tess’s way. 

   “That piece of shit. Wait till I get a hold of him, gonna make him wish he never saw the light of day,” she scoffs. 

   “He’ll be running for the hills, Tess,” he chuckles as he places his meaty hands on top of his large thighs. “What’d ya need?”

   Tess leans up against the fading wallpaper and throws him a pack of chewing gum. “Found this when I was outside the walls today, but just wanted to check in about tomorrow. Wanted to go over the plans before we head out in the morning. I can come back later though and discuss it.”

   Tess’s hazel eyes wander over to you, and she gives you a welcoming smile. “So, how long have you been here? Not long because I would’ve noticed a new face.”

   “Just a couple weeks. Just getting settled in,” you reply as you play absentmindedly with your hair. 

   “Where do they have you working at? I can always stop by, give you some tips, show you around the area. I’m sure you could use a friend.”

   You nod and smile up at her. “Yeah, thanks. They’ve got me working down at the weapons station. Cleaning and sorting and whatever else they tell me to do.”

   “I see. I’m sure that gets redundant and boring, so maybe I can show you a thing or two to not lose your mind in this shithole,” Tess replies, making her way over to Joel. 

   “You’re lucky this one was around,” Tess says with a firm slap to Joel’s back, stifling a grunt from him as he pushes Tess playfully in the arm. “Joel can be a real pain in the ass, but he’s sure nice to have around.”

   “Yeah yeah, shut up. Thanks for the gum,” Joel chuckles as he pushes the pack of Spearmint gum into the pocket of his jeans. 

   “Sure thing, handsome. I’ll see you later.” She waves and gives you a nod before heading out the door. “Welcome to the Boston QZ again.” Tess makes her grand exit and shuts the door loudly, her footsteps fading into the distance.

   You twist your hands in your lap, suddenly overstimulated by the presence of an intimidating woman who clearly gets her way in the QZ. You wish you were stronger, braver, more outspoken like her. And clearly she knows how to pull Joel’s strings. You’re not jealous of her, only slightly envious that she has Joel hooked around her finger. 

   “She seems nice,” you say slowly, looking over at Joel as he laughs at your words. 

   “Yeah, she ain’t too bad. Trust me, she’ll be having Seth shakin’ like a dog out in the freezin’ rain,” he chuckles. 

   You laugh at his words, but suddenly you’re asking something you shouldn’t be. “Are you guys like… together?” you ask nervously, gulping down the rest of your words as you hold your breath like you’re underwater. 

   “Me and Tess? Nah,” he laughs, shaking his head at the mention of it. “She’s my neighbor. But we work together, she’s my partner. We smuggle things for FEDRA.”

   “Smuggle things?” you ask, confused by what he means.

   He leans forward and places his hands on the table. “Yeah, smuggle things. Items, sometimes people, whatever they need. We go out on a bunch of missions. Searching abandoned buildings, makin’ trades, doin’ deals with folks around here and for some of the soldiers. Kind of an easy way to get extra supplies and ration cards.”

   “So you’ve got sway with the soldiers here?” you ask curiously. 

   “More or less. Tess is the one with the real sway, but I guess you can say people kinda fear me. They don’t really mess with me. Hell, they know not to.” He knocks his knuckles against the edge of the table, and you reach up to scratch your face, wincing when you forget how god awful sore it is. 

   “Shit, I forgot about my face,” you whine, gripping the edge of your denim tight as you sink your nail beds into your thigh. 

   “Careful there, try not to mess with it,” he warns softly, bringing back the cool washcloth to your scratches. You sit back and let him tend to your wound, watching how careful he's being with every swipe of the cloth to your fragile skin. 

   He’s close again, close enough to where you can smell him, inhaling the woodsy scent as summer sweat mixes with the pinecone scent. You could get drunk off the smell, and you really hope it’ll stick to your clothes when you’re back in your apartment, alone with your delusions of having his large hands all over your skin. 

   You watch the way his large biceps cling against his flannel shirt, like he’ll rip the soft material at any given moment. His knees brush against yours, fingertips grazing your jawline like the edge of a soft feather, enough to send tingles down your spine. 

   “Is it just you here?” you ask while he holds the damp cloth to your cheek. 

   “Jus’ me,” he murmurs, dark eyes flicking back to yours. 

   “Do you have family around. Anywhere?” you ask cautiously. His jaw clenches, and his lip quivers while he analyzes the question, figuring out if he wants to answer or not. 

   He sighs, “I’ve got a brother. Tommy.”

   “Here?” 

   “Nah. Haven’t talked to him in years. Last I heard he was settling in Jackson, Wyoming,” he mutters, clearly annoyed about the topic of conversation. 

   “Why don’t you go find your brother?” you ask, conflicted if you should continue the questions.

   “It’s complicated,” he grumbles. 

   “What’s so complicated?”

   “He’s halfway across the country.”

   “So?” you say mockingly. 

   “So? That’s a hell of a ways to go to find someone that I’m not sure even wants to see me,” he says with gritted teeth. 

   “Joel, I’m sure he wouldn’t be upset. What makes you think he wouldn’t want to see you?”

   “We got into a bad fight, and we weren't agreeing on some things. Turns out we wanted different things, so I told him to leave, and he went. Followed some fireflies, hell if I know how long he actually stayed with them,” he scoffs, digging his worn boot into the wooden floor. 

   “Fireflies?” you ask with wide eyes. 

   “That’s what I said,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, getting annoyed with you already, but you just keep talking. 

   “Oh, that’s… well, that’s something. But I’m sure he’d want you to try to reach out. Would you go, if you thought he would? Do you have any other family?” you ask intrigued, pulling yourself to the edge of the seat. 

   He leans back and drops the washcloth to the table, sighing as he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “You sure do ask a bunch of questions, don’t ya?” he huffs, crossing his arms as a hard line maps across his forehead. 

   “Well, I’m just saying. If I had family still alive I sure as hell would go find them, not stand back and watch them slip away from me! I fucking wish I had mine!” Your words come out louder, harsher than you mean to, and Joel’s just sitting there, staring at you with wide eyes and an expression you can’t quite read. 

   The room is suddenly silent, only the sounds of your labored breathing and teary eyes fogging up the room. You shouldn’t have snapped, shouldn’t have thrown that back in his face. You shouldn’t have pried, now look what you’ve done. “Sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to say it like that.”

   He opens his mouth partially, big brown eyes lathered in concern holding your gaze. He looks like he understands your pain, maybe just a fraction of that. But he doesn’t share it with you. “S’alright. Don’t gotta apologize. Think we both jus’ over shared a little too much.”

   You nod, biting your tongue from saying anything else stupid. What’s wrong with you? “Yeah, guess so.” You take a deep breath, hearing him scrape his chair back while his left arm rests on the edge of the table. 

   You see it then, a black military watch clasped to his wrist, the glass broken and arms not moving on the watch. It’s broken, just a mere memory of some sort that you want to unlock, but now is not the time. 

   “Think I should get you back to your place,” he says in a deep voice, one that says he’s finished talking about family matters.

   “Yeah, okay,” you say quietly. 

   “Where are you stayin’ at?”

   “I’m in building four.”

   “Alright then. That ain’t too far. C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Make sure no soldiers give ya a hard time,” he says through clenched teeth. 

   “Joel, wait.” Before he can push himself up, you rest your hand on top of his, feeling his warm skin simmer underneath yours. 

   He stares at your hand on his, ticking his jaw nervously as his brown doe eyes fall back on yours. “Thank you, for today, for saving me.”

   “It was nothin’, don’t mention it,” he murmurs, sliding his hand out from under yours, memorizing the way his hand feels like fire underneath yours, mourning the loss of his skin on yours. 

   “I owe you.”

   He looks at you with a serious gaze, his thick fingers clamping down on the material of his flannel. “Don’t owe me a damn thing, sweetheart. I’d do it all over if I had to.”

   Oh. 

   His jaw twitches, amber eyes glowing into yours, a sudden tension filling the room. It feels a lot like longing, understanding, some kind of connection. But the spark of it snaps when he pulls back his chair and stands, nodding for you to follow him. “C’mon, let’s get you back before we break curfew.”

   He leads you out of his apartment, down the rickety stairs and steers you through the winding buildings, avoiding FEDRA’s eyes on the main road. His fingertips brush against yours as he walks briskly next to you, staying near and looking every which way as to not have another run in with a soldier. 

   The city is musty, old brick buildings barely staying intact. Military tanks litter the streets while old broken down cars sit to rot around the QZ. You stay close to Joel, keeping quiet as he concentrates on getting you back to safety. 

   You should be grateful to him, you are grateful. He saved you, even though he really didn’t have to. He took care of your wounded cheek, made sure you got back to your place safely. You were eternally grateful for the broad man that showed you kindness when no one else did in this godforsaken city. Joel was a good man, as far as you could tell.

   He leads you to your building, the one with the number four painted in white on the side of the old bricks. Your room is the first door on the right, a chip right next to the jiggling door handle. 

   You turn around and face him, leaning up against your solid oak door as you look up into those dark brown eyes you’ve grown accustomed of thinking about too much. “Thank you, Joel. For everything. Really, I owe you.”

   He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled curls as he smiles a crooked grin your way. “Gotta stop sayin’ that, sweetheart. You gave me company, I’ll call that even enough.”

   You swallow, nodding his way. “Alright then. I guess I’ll let you get back before they catch you outside your apartment.”

   You turn around and twist the door handle, pushing it open until he stops you in your tracks and places his fingers around your wrist. “Wait a second.”

   “Huh?” you ask, whipping back around to find him digging inside his back pocket and retrieving a little switchblade in his hand. 

   “Here.” He stretches his arm out and holds out the knife, nodding for you to take it. You just stare at it, your mouth open wide without even taking a step forward to take it. 

   “Well, go on. Take it.” He steps forward, brushing against your knuckles as he pries your fingers open and drops the knife in your palm, closing your fingers over the switchblade so you have no option but to keep it. 

   “Oh, no. Joel, I can’t. This is yours,” you argue.

   He tsks your way, clicking his tongue and urging you to listen. “Keep it, I’d feel better knowin’ you had somethin’ to defend yourself with. Ya know if someone tries to mess with you again. Jus’ be careful with it,” he instructs.

   You open your palm and assess the bronze blade, tracing the cold edges, watching the glisten of the sharp tip reflect off your eyes. You close it up and slide it in your pocket, looking back at Joel with a wide smile. “Thanks, Joel. You didn’t have to.”

   “I did and stop thankin’ me. I’ve got plenty more where that came from. Jus’ want you to be safe is all,” he murmurs, his deep voice carrying through your ears as he pushes his hands nervously in his jean pockets. 

   “Oh, I see.” Your voice comes out in a mere whisper, but he hears you through the hot wind that blows against your hair. 

   “Jus’ watch your back, okay? It ain’t easy around here, and you can’t trust anybody.”

   “What about you?” 

   He knits his brows together and gives you a tight lipped smile. “You can trust me, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He cups your chin, rough fingertips meeting your soft skin. It almost feels electric, like his fingers are magic, and maybe he is. That’s what he feels like.

   His eyes hover over your lips for just a second, peeling them back up to meet your wide eyes. He’s got a soft side to him, something someone would miss if they weren’t looking close enough. You have a feeling he doesn’t let his guard down with just anyone, but with you he did, if only for just a few seconds. 

   He drops his hand from your chin and steps back, keeping his eyes aligned with yours. “Guess I’ll see ya around,” he says, stepping back away from your apartment. 

   “Yeah, guess you will,” you breathe.

   He nods your way and gives you a small smile. “Have a good night, trouble.”

   “Trouble?” you question, laughing at the accusation. 

   “Yeah, that’s what I said. Trouble,” he chuckles as he makes his way back through the narrow buildings, disappearing with one more glance your way, capturing the deep brown eyes that look your way, memorizing them, burning them in the backs of your eyes so you can remember every fleck and sparkle of those sweet honey eyes. 

   You walk into your empty apartment and close the door, kicking off your shoes and dragging yourself to your falling apart mattress. You collapse into the cool white sheets, closing your eyes and replaying every glance, every touch, every word of you and Joel’s time together. You don’t know what’s come over you, but you clearly have fallen for the broad shouldered man with beautiful brown eyes. 

   Maybe the QZ wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it wouldn’t end you like you thought it would. Maybe just maybe Joel would be your saving grace. Maybe those honey glazed eyes would haunt your dreams until you saw him again. And that’s exactly what happened that night. All you saw were crystal clear brown eyes and tousled curls tracing through your fingertips, sheets drenched in the summer sweat of him. You knew then that you were fucked. 

Tags: @milla-frenchy @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @aurorawritestoescape @akah565

@rav3n-pascal22 @keylimebeag

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~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: tattoo artist choso, fem reader, tattoo artist au, tattoos, needles, satosugu is canon, modern au, choso has a scar over his nose instead of his markings, strangers to friend to lovers (strangers rn) tiny lil man verbal bashing cause men are weak lil babies when getting tattoos, reader is a lil chubby, choso is on antidepressants, smoking/vaping, drinking ~ wc: 2.9k ~ "Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?"

You: Wednesday 8:45pm Hi, I was just wondering if your books were still open? It says they are in your bio but in case I've missed it and they're closed, please ignore this message, sorry! :)

Kamo: Wednesday 9:23pm Hey. No, they are still open. When were you looking to book? Do you have a specific design? Or are you looking for a flash?

 

You: Thursday 11:36am Oh, hi, awesome! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! I was looking to book next month, towards the end. On a weekend if that would be possible (I don't mind the time), and for the design, just a flash (design 3A) on your latest post on my upper arm, around 15-20cm. :)

You: Thursday 11:52pm Unless you think it should be smaller or somewhere else, I'm not picky! I really want something of yours tattooed on me :)

 Kamo: Thursday 12:15pm Sure, no problem! I have the 24th free at 12pm. Does that work for you? The spot and size are fine, but I'll make up smaller and bigger stencils on the day in case you change your mind. The total would be $600 for the piece. However, I require a $100 deposit to secure your spot. I can send you the payment details once you confirm your interest. Please read through my FAQs on cancellation policies and further information.

You: Thursday 12:20pm 24th at 12pm is perfect! Thank you!! I'll send a deposit through now! Ahh, so excited! :)

 

Kamo: Thursday 1:07pm You're welcome. Here is the link x. Please send a screenshot of your payment as proof. For the rest of the amount, I accept cash only. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me. See you on the 24th.

You: Thursday 3:30pm Sending it now! Yay! Thank you so much! Super excited, see you! :)

Kamo: Thursday 4:35 pm Seen 

--

 "I sound like an idiot, don't I?" you grumble as your friend reads over your chat with a tattoo artist.

You watch your friend tilt their glasses down, squinting at the screen as their mouth curls into a grimace. They try to hide it with a sniffle, disguising their obvious disgust over your intense enthusiasm.

"Not an idiot," they hand the phone back to you, a frown set in the crooked way it always did when they were uncomfortable. "Just really, really eager, which can be cute if you like that."

--

Choso is growing tired. 

At what? There are too many contributing factors to the headache that had begun blooming his eyes five minutes after stepping into the studio to pinpoint the main culprit of his budding exhaustion. Maybe it was the late night/early morning combo, or perhaps it was the horrific lack of water and food he hadn't consumed in the last twenty-four hours. When was the last time he had taken his medication? Choso begins to run through the previous days in an attempt to remember when he had even glanced at the Zoloft sheet sitting in the bottom drawer of his trolley, but his attention is diverted from his lack of self-care to the man sitting in his tattoo chair. 

It is coming up on the two-hour mark since his client walked in. With a brazen attitude that could rival a Greek god, the man had outlined what had to be the simplest fucking tattoo known to man. Choso had rolled his eyes at the frankly impressive and thorough drawing done by the twenty-something gym bro before shifting the paper off to his younger brother. 

"Come on, it's easy! An hour tops, and then you've got like two fifty in your hand! You technically owe me an observation session, and this can be it." Yuji had gripped his brother's sleeve, tugging on it the way he used to when they were kids. 

Taking in his younger half-brother as his apprentice was a good idea in theory. The two lived and worked together, so there was ample time for obvs and practice, but today was already busy, and Choso was feeling like complete and utter shit. 

"Yuji, I don't want to do this. I have a client coming in at twelve for a full session, and I've got this headache and-"

"It's easy money, come on! Please." it technically was easy money. The design was a small band wrapped around the bicep, with no adornments or script, just a flat black line; it was the client himself that made Choso apprehensive. 

"Fine." Choso sighed, and Yuji almost jumped into the air in excitement. "You prep and clean him; I'm not doing anything but the actual tattoo." 

Yuji nodded eagerly and just about ran into the front room to confirm the walk-in appointment. 

That was almost two hours ago, and Choso is still here, finishing up the outlines of the band on a guy twice his size but carrying on like a toddler. Each touch of the needle on skin had the man flinching and hissing through his teeth, and there is only so much Choso could take. 

Choso eyes the clock nervously, his next appointment slot ticking closer but the second. There isn't going to be enough time to get out and grab a coffee or snack from the corner store. After another quick glance at the amount of work before him, Choso calls it fifteen minutes to twelve and clicks off the tattoo gun with a disappointed sigh.

 "Hey, I'm sorry, but we might have to split this into two sessions." 

He looks back over at this current client, who is sweating profusely. It takes everything in him to scowl in disgust at the once brazen man before him, but not the look on his client's face; Choso knows some form of repugnance had slipped through his composure. 

 "Yeah, sure, man, no sweat," the client replies, relief blatant in his sigh. "Sorry for taking so many breaks. I've got a weak pain tolerance."

That makes Choso feel a little bad.

"You're fine. I've just got a pre-booked client coming in like ten and need to set up." A little lie to hurry the man up. 

Hope is so close. So attainable that Choso can almost feel the sun on his face, but the shop bells slice through any dream of a break. 

"Hi, I'm here for my twelve with Kamo?" 

Choso slouches, attention now on the conversation happening in the front room. It's not even twelve yet! Why would she be here so early? 

"Yep! We've got you down for twelve, but Choso's still with someone, so if you wanna wait here, that's okay!" Yuji giggles in response. 

"Ohh, I'm just here to ask if umm…Choso wanted a coffee or anything?" his name is a question on her tongue. "I'm going to go get one and wanted to ask if anyone wanted anything so you don't have to wait in line." 

That's nice. Choso thinks and leans back on his chair, attempting to glimpse his new client, who has Yuji giggling at every word. 

"I was just about to step out to get coffee so I can come with you, but I can get Cho's; you don't need to pay for him." Another giggle. God, his younger brother is shameless. 

"That's okay! I can get them; just write your orders down so I don't forget!" the girl insists.  

"Ohh, but-"disappointment fills Yuji's voice. 

"Yuji, can you come here please!" Choso shouts down the hall, pulling his brother away from his new crush. 

Yuji groans, then the shop bells ring again, and then the sound of footsteps shuffles down the hall. 

"Yes?" 

"Can you wrap him up and finish the payment? I need a smoke." Choso rolled back from the bed, handing over the second skin he has yet to unwrap. 

Choso's brother sighs but offers the male client a friendly smile, sits down in the now vacant rollaway stool, and begins to prep the skin for wrap-up.

"I'll be back in five; if anyone needs me, tell them to wait." Choso grumbles the last part and offers a stiff wave to his current client before disappearing into the hall. 

 The knots in Choso's shoulder have been building for days now, and no amount of rolling or stretching seems to relieve the tension in his muscles, but it is nice to stretch and feel the blood move around him again. Heavy boots echo through the small shop as he stalks to the front desk, floorboards creaking under the weight of thick rubber soles. His fingers slip into his back pocket to reach for the small pack of menthols hastily shoved down after the abrupt end of his morning break. 

Stepping out into the world, Choso is blinded by the sun. Having forgotten about the passage of time while being stuck indoors all day, he now stands stunned in the small alcove of the shop's entrance. The sun nears the centre of the sky, beating down the world in a heat never seen before. It wasn't even the beginning of summer, and the sweltering days were breaking temperature records. Choso shields his eyes with a hand, and even then, his vision is blurred as his retinas adjust. 

The street is quiet; an abnormal silence had fallen over the usually busy road, but with the rising blistering temps, he suspects people aren't willing to brave the heat to shop or eat. Choso finds the familiar recess in the wall, a door had been there years ago but has long since been boarded up and now acts as refuge for him and his brother. Through any weather, time of day or season, the small alcove is a sanctuary for tired and burnt-out artists needing a second away from the constant buzz of tattoo guns. 

Choso scans the few open cafes and bars for his mystery client. Mainly office workers on lunch break and mothers with strollers waiting for the afternoon pick up; he can't see anyone that fits the image he had concocted in his mind on the short walk over until he spots a girl standing in line across the way. The tattoos that adorn her legs are what Choso notices first. Patchwork pieces from different artists in black and white with pops of colour here and there, but for the most part are monochromatic, all spaced far enough to be their own pieces but not so much that they seem gap-y. He is impressed at the choice, knowing that when getting patchwork pieces, they are usually slapped in any available location, but from what he can see, every piece flowed into each other and told a story against her skin. Her arms are equally as covered, though with more room, and he is eager to see the works up close. A flash of pink catches his attention, and he narrows his attention on the pink My Melody backpack that she swings at her side, pink wallet clutched in her free hand as she shifts her weight from her toes to her heels. Choso smirks at the bag and finds himself willing her to turn so he can see the face of the girl who we had been staring at for the past five minutes. 

He is staring and he needs to stop before he gets caught. Shifting his attention from the random woman, he fishes out his phone and focuses on the seemingly endless DMs and texts stacked on the lock screen. Sometimes, he wonders if he really should have gone into a career where his livelihood relied on communicating with strangers. With expert precision and one hand, he pulls a cigarette from the crumpled packet and slips the filter between his teeth. Biting down the filter, the taste of menthol fills his mouth, and relief floods his veins before settling in the deep groves of his brain. The cigarette isn't even lit yet, but his nervous system knows that the taste of mint will soon be followed by nicotine, and all will be well for a few minutes. Breaking the habit of smoking has been on Choso's New Year's resolution lists for the past three years, but he only ever lasts a few weeks before turning back to the comfort of those overpriced joints. Maybe next year will be the year. Choso digs through his pockets, fingers grasping for the lighter he keeps in his right pant pocket, but there is nothing. Maybe the other side? Still nothing. Third pocket? Fourth pocket? Nada. Zilch. Zero. Fuck. 

There isn't enough time to go back inside to search for matches, and he had already popped the filter and doesn't want to waste the smoke, but it would get gross sitting in the packet- his headache grew. 

"Choso?" a soft voice asks from above.

Choso looks up from his lap and is greeted by the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Breathing is no longer automatic as he stares at you, and when his lungs start to contract almost painfully, he realises and takes in an all too obvious breath.

It wasn't fair to look like that. With the sun illuminating your silhouette, cradling you in an angelic aura that has Choso debating on whether he should get on his knees and pray to you, but too much time has passed since you spoke and he acknowledged you that he has to say something, but all he can manage is a muffled yeah?

"I'm your twelve, but you look like you need a light?" you hold out a bright pink light between pretty pink manicured fingers. 

Choso offers a tight-lipped smile to prevent the cigarette from falling from his mouth and takes the lighter, flicking it to life. "Thanks, I owe ya."

He holds the flame to the tobacco, and only when it glows bright does he pull the disposable away.

"It didn't cost me anything, so nothing to owe."

There is a beat of silence as you throw the light back into your bag before bending down to pick up the coffee you had set at your feet. "Also, a coffee." another offer towards him. 

"The guy at the desk gave me your order, and I always buy my artists something before a session. I'm not hitting on you."

Your admission of this not being a move stirs something in him. Choso accepts the cold cup with a soft thank you, angling his hand away from yours, careful not to burn you with the lit smoke.

 "I'll meet you inside. Give you a moment to yourself." you nod towards the door of the studio, feet already turning to start walking towards the entrance. 

He watches you walk away, a smile creeping on his face despite not knowing why. You're as cute from the front as you are from the back, and he's glad the girl he had seen in the coffee shop is you. Soft curves make up your figure, dipping at your waist before filling out again over your bust. Choso feels his stomach twist in that familiar feeling, but he can't think of you like that; you're a client and nothing more. There is a mesmerising way in which you walk that has Choso unable to look away, and even when you've stepped into the studio, his gaze lingers on the empty space you once stood in until the rancid taste of burnt filter fills his mouth. Never in his life has he been as thankful for coffee as he is in that moment when burnt paper fills his senses. Taking a big gulp of the sweet but still bitter drink, it takes everything in him not to spit in the street, but he was raised better than that and will wait until he is in the small bathroom to spit up the gross contents.

 --

 When Choso returns, you are sitting on the small couch in the waiting room, filling out consent forms. Head down as you read the number of your ID and scribe it down in the open line; he walks past you, suddenly horrified by his heavy choice of shoe. The thick thud of the rubber soles on the hardwood has you lifting your head and smiling at your artist. Choso feels his stomach flip.

"So," Choso starts, but the smoke still in his throat chokes the word. He clears his throat and restarts his sentence. "So, do you smoke, or do you just carry the lighter?"

"My best friend smokes, so I just carry it 'cause you never know when you're gonna need a light." Your laugh is contained, almost forced, as if the interaction you are having is uncomfortable for you. Had he done something wrong?

"Ohh." Is his only reply as you return to the balanced folder on your lap.

Another moment of silence before Choso steps towards the hall. "I'll let Yuji check you in, and then just come in when you're ready." Had he already made you that uncomfortable in the two minutes you had spoken outside? Choso takes a deep breath as he steps into his space and suddenly wishes the whiney baby was the one getting tattooed.

--

You: Saturday 12:05pm Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:06pm suck his dick? ik guys like that :P 

You: Saturday 12:06pm Idk what I expected from you. I need actual advice, please Saturo. U owe me!

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:07pm ooh first name, you're kinda scary. Okay, here is what you do. You act like a normal human and then flirt a lil and suss out if he's into it and then ask him out to drinks?

You: Saturday 12:08pm That works if I KNEW HOW TO FLIRT. Ugh im screwed, he's so fine fuck

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:09pm eww, you're getting ur jizz all over the screen. just breathe and be normal okay, pretend he's me.

You: Saturday 12:10pm  Ignoring the first comment. Im gonna sneak a pic and show u BRO YOU NEED TO SEE HIM

Number ONE best friend: 12:10pm creepy but okeeeeyyy. Sugu also says to breathe and be normal but to ignore anything you think I would do

You: Saturday 12:11pm Thanks, Suguru, please kill him for me, ill talk to u guys in a bit

Number ONE best friend:  good luck bestie 8======D

a/n: okay so there is going to be a part two but I'm not sure when, please give me feedback if you want it or want me to stop, put the laptop down and go outside lmao lil texting format, lemme know how y'all feel about that

[gxr25256]

The Doorless Cage - Seekers x reader (2)

🌵 Tranformers (Post-Apocalyptic AU).

🌵 The Decepticons have conquered Earth, leaving humanity in ruins.

🌵I'll try this for a bit. Remember: I'm not very good at it 👀.

--------------------------------

Skywarp had always found patrols to be mind-numbingly dull. The ruined city sprawled out before him, a desolate wasteland devoid of life—exactly as they wanted it. They’d swept through this place more times than he could count, tearing down every last sign of resistance, yet still, Megatron insisted they make rounds, “in case anything survived.”

But Skywarp knew better. The humans were all but extinct, their brief, flickering rebellion snuffed out, leaving him, Thundercracker, and Starscream wandering empty streets with only the wind and rubble for company. Thundercracker trudged along somewhere behind him, too lost in thought to complain as he usually did. And Starscream was further ahead, stalking through the ruins with his optics cold and sharp.

Skywarp sighed, glancing down a dark alley, then at a broken tower across the street. His teleportation circuits hummed with potential energy, itching to be used for anything other than walking these streets. Part of him wanted to zap right back to base and tell Thundercracker and Starscream he’d “scouted” the rest of the city, but he knew that would only bring more boredom. And, of course, Starscream would berate him for leaving his post, and Skywarp wasn’t in the mood for another lecture from his second-in-command.

Then, he heard it—a faint, barely-there sound, muffled and distant, but unmistakable.

Human.

It was like catching the scent of prey on the wind, and for a moment, Skywarp’s optics brightened with excitement. He slowed his steps, creeping closer to the sound’s source—a half-fallen building just across the street. A grin spread across his face, and his boredom evaporated. Maybe there was a human left to torment after all. With a bit of luck, he could finally have some fun.

Skywarp stopped just outside the building, letting his heavy footsteps echo against the cracked walls, then pausing as if he were about to enter. He listened for any reaction from inside, and sure enough, he heard a frantic rustling, followed by absolute silence. They knew he was there, and they were hiding.

Perfect.

With exaggerated slowness, he moved a few steps forward, then stopped again, allowing the suspense to build. He could only imagine the terror that must be coursing through the human’s veins, the way they’d be shrinking into the shadows, praying he wouldn’t find them.

But Skywarp was done playing subtle.

With a resounding clang, he struck the wall, letting his servo drive through the structure and tear the roof off with a violent pull. Dust and debris flew into the air, and Skywarp’s optics zeroed in on the small figure crouched below, eyes wide with terror. The human screamed, and he grinned, reveling in the sound.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” he drawled, his optics gleaming. He reached down, massive fingers wrapped around the human body with brutal force. He lifted them off the ground, letting them wriggle in his grip as he gave them a rough squeeze, just enough to remind them of their fragility.

The human stilled, frozen in fear, and Skywarp chuckled, drawing them closer until they were at optic level.

“Looks like someone’s been playing hide-and-seek,” he sneered. “Too bad for you—I always win, mouse."

Skywarp’s optic gleamed with cruel delight as he brought the tiny human up to his face, studying them with the kind of mocking curiosity one might show an insect caught in a jar. His grip was loose but deliberate, giving them enough room to wriggle and squirm, knowing that any attempt to break free was hopeless.

He tilted his hand back, causing the human to slip toward the edge of his fingers, a startled gasp escaping them as they scrambled to find a hold. Just as they were about to slip, he flattened his palm, catching them with a satisfied chuckle.

“Aw, did you think you’d fall?” he sneered, lifting them to eye level. He twisted his wrist so they dangled precariously, just far enough from his fingers that they’d have to struggle to keep their balance. The sheer terror in their eyes only amused him further, and he leaned in close, his voice a low, mocking whisper.

“Oh, don’t look so scared. I won't drop you......at least not now." He loosened his grip again, watching with twisted glee as they gripped his metal fingers in desperation, their breaths coming fast and shallow.

Skywarp found himself thoroughly entertained by the way they trembled, the faint spark of defiance in their eyes already waning as he continued his taunts. He nudged them with his thumb, pressing them back against his palm, ignoring their gasp of pain as he applied a bit more pressure.

As he toyed with his new prize, he heard familiar footsteps approaching from behind. He glanced over his shoulder, just as Starscream and Thundercracker appeared around the corner.

“What are you doing, Skywarp?” Starscream’s voice was dripping with annoyance as he stalked up to them. His red optics narrowed, taking in the sight of the human in Skywarp’s grip. “I thought we were on patrol, not indulging your ridiculous whims.”

Skywarp merely smirked, holding up the human for them to see. “Oh, lighten up, Starscream. Look what I found—a little survivor. Thought we’d gotten rid of all of them, but I guess there’s still a few stragglers.”

Starscream’s gaze shifted to the trembling human,his face wrinkled. He lifted his arm, aiming his null ray at them. “Then let’s finish the job. I don’t have time for your games.”

Skywarp rolled his optics, drawing the human back just out of range of Starscream’s weapon. “Where’s the fun in that? The city’s already dead, so what’s one little human running around? Think of it as entertainment. It’ll give us something to do.”

Starscream scoffed, crossing his arms. “An amusement? It’s a disgusting organic.”

Skywarp shrugged, his grip tightening on the human to keep them still. “Maybe, but it's better than walking around looking for nothing. Besides, it’s got a decent scream.”

Thundercracker sighed, casting a skeptical glance at the human. “Megatron’s not gonna be happy if he finds out we’re keeping a pet. Besides, I thought you hated organics.”

“Eh, this one’s different,” Skywarp glancing back at the human, who was clinging to his fingers, staring at him with a mixture of horror and disbelief. “I mean, look at them. They’re pathetic. If they try anything, I can just…squeeze.” He gave the human a light, taunting squeeze, chuckling as their face paled.

“Besides, if they become a problem, we can always crush them later. But for now, let’s see if they can last. It’ll be like…a game.” Skywarp added, a gleam of mischief in his optics.

Thundercracker’s optics narrowed, clearly unimpressed by Skywarp’s twisted idea of amusement. “A game?” he muttered, shaking his head. “You’re playing with scraps from a dead world.” His voice held a hint of disdain, but under it lay a reluctant curiosity. “It’s just going to run, hide, and scream.”

Skywarp shrugged, still grinning as he dangled the human, watching them squirm. “Exactly! That’s what makes it fun, Thundercracker. It’s like… a pet with spirit,” he taunted, giving the human another playful shake. “Or at least, until they break. They’ve got nothing left to lose, right?” He tilted his head, eyeing the human’s wide, terrified eyes with twisted fascination. “Why not see how long they’ll last?”

Starscream rolled his optics. “Skywarp, if you’re this bored, maybe I should assign you extra patrols.” He sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm

"Hey!"

“But since you insist on this ridiculous game, I suppose it could be… mildly interesting to see just how long this one lasts.” He shot a disdainful look at the human. “Seeing it fall apart was quite a sight to behold.”

Thundercracker snorted “Since when did you get interested in playing with organic matter?” he muttered, though he didn’t move to stop Skywarp. “They’re just a reminder of what this place used to be—a waste.”

Starscream huffed, optics narrowing as he scoffed at Thundercracker's objections. "Shut up! I never did." He replied. In a moment of consideration, he spoke up. "And is that a waste? Think of it as… a way to pass the time. After all, the planet’s dead. Might as well use the leftovers.”

Thundercracker sighed, looking away. “Fine, but don’t expect me to take part in this.” But there was still a glimmer of curiosity in his optics—if unwilling to admit it—to see how long this human might survive under their “care.”

Skywarp chuckled, clearly pleased with his trinemates’ grudging acceptance. “See? It’ll be good for morale.” He leaned closer to the human, his voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “Congratulations—you get to stay alive… for now. Better keep us entertained, though, or we’ll get bored.”

“Let’s go,” Starscream ordered, turning to walk ahead. “If we linger, Megatron will think we’re slacking off.”

As the three Seekers turned to leave, the human still firmly in Skywarp’s grip, Starscream’s voice cut through the quiet. “Remember, Skywarp: this is your little ‘pet.’ If they become a nuisance, it’s on you to clean up the mess.” But his smirk revealed that he, too, was already looking forward to the twisted amusement their new “pet” might bring.

--------------------------------

Skywarp is fun, right?

"I can just…squeeze." 🤫

[velvetreds]

Could i get a 🦑 💗 🍄 short fic with kunigami pretty please 🛐

Congratulations on the 200 followers tho like you deserved that sm i eat up EVERYTHING you post you’re so goated 🫶

tysm!! UR goated for saying that thank u again!! im not sure if kunigami was as kunigami as possible BUT here u go !!

anything — rensuke kunigami x gn!reader

wc: 814 | event

cws: angst, hurt/comfort, soulmate au, gn!reader

DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE

rensuke kunigami once believed in soulmates. it was back before he entered the blue lock program, when he'd still had a positive outlook on life, a sense of self. when everything hadn't been warped by the wild card training.

but kunigami does not believe in soulmates now, as he stares down at you, outside the coffee shop, as you visually trace the red string from your hand, to his.

"we're... soulmates," you utter, stupefied. there is a sort of wonder in your eyes, one that reminds him of himself, from what feels like aeons ago.

he stares you down, expressionless. "i don't believe in those. can you move, i gotta go."

"c'mon," you whine, drawing out he word. it's not fair. you've waited for this all your life just for your soulmate to not want to be your soulmate. that day, you leave with his number.

he's gruff, standoffish, never quite rude, but it's almost obvious that you're not wanted. you stay persistent, meeting him every now and then. he's not sure when you become such an important part of his life, and he's not sure when he begins to look forward to seeing you again either — not that he shows it, of course.

and the same way he tells you nothing of how he feels, you stay silent too. you don't tell him how your confidence breaks down each time, and how you're slowly losing hope. it gets to the point where one day, you realise you can't maintain this seemingly one-sided relationship anymore.

"i can't do this anymore," you tell him sadly, and for the first time in the entirety of the time you've known him, kunigami shows some semblance of emotion. his brows lift up in surprise, eyes widened. "what? do what anymore?"

"this— me trying to maintain any sort of relationship with you, when you don't even care!"

"but i do care!" he responds, confused.

"what?" now you're confused.

the depth of the situation has finally started to sink in for him. you're leaving. and you have every right to, because he's been a shitty soulmate, and a shitty person in general. what does he do? what does he say?

"i—"

you're backing away.

"i can't lose you," he says.

communication is a weird thing.

"let's talk," he pleads. "just one time, let me try to fix it. just once, y/n, please."

the first two words are enough to make you relent; the rest of them just lessen any regret you're feeling for having done so. for the first time, he talks — really talks — to you. for the first time, he holds your hand.

the two of you sit at a bench, and you note that today he's sat closer to you than ever before, shoulder-to-shoulder. even now, his warmth comforts you, and you have to consciously restrain yourself from leaning into him.

"y/n," he says, breaking the silence. "i think, no, i don't know. i, i'm sorry, i've been horrible."

"you have," you agree, and he squeezes your hand.

"i care about you. a lot."

"well, that definitely showed," you say sarcastically, but your hand stays in his. it's comfortable like that. he moves your connected hands onto his laptop, shifting uncomfortably.

"i'm not... good at any of this. i don't know when you started to matter, y/n."

"what do you mean, matter?" something like anger sparks within you.

"i'd stopped believing in soulmates by the time we met," he explains. "but somewhere along the way, oh, i don't know, i'm in love with you."

your anger dissipates immediately as you spring away from him, staring up with the same expression as the one that'd been on your face when he first saw you. he presses his lips to your knuckles reverently, before both his hands coming up to cup your face tenderly. he's not trying to kiss you or anything, he just wants to make you understand.

"i still don't believe in soulmates," he says. "but i believe in you, and i want you to believe in us. i'll spend the rest of my life trying, if you'll let me."

you love his hands. you love his face. you love the way he holds you, so gentle, with hands that could probably kill, if he wanted. you hear a hushed whisper of your name, a plea for you to answer.

"i— i don't know, rensuke."

"i know i fucked it up, please, i'll do anything, just can't lose you."

maybe it's some sort of link between soulmates. maybe it's the slight tremor in his voice, or the way that you have come to know him, not through and through, but enough to know when he's being genuine. maybe it's a combination of all three.

your expression softens, a sly smile creeping onto your face. "anything?"

he perks up immediately, eyes widening. "anything."

"kiss me, stupid."

thank u for reading n following!

love,

hyena

[jinnie-ret]

MY YOUTH | SKZ NINTH AU

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

<---------- back to my youth

<---------- back to main masterlist

chapter 4

genre: fluff content warnings: none word count: 1.2k

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Lou went straight back to her room after an incredibly filling meal. She did struggle to find her room at first, not quite remembering which one she exited from earlier in the morning, and none of the visions she had been having gave any hints away. But when she got weird looks from the other members about why she was looking in every room, she smartly used an excuse that would actually pass at the truth.

"What you doing Sunny?" Lee Know rose an eyebrow in curiosity at the girl who was looking through different rooms in the dorms.

"Hmmm? Oh... I'm trying to find Garfield, can't find it at the studio so it must be around here somewhere..." Lou miraculously thought up the excuse, twiddling her fingers as she made it look like that's definitely what she was looking for rather than her own room.

"You lost Garfield? Hmmm, don't worry, I'm sure we'll find him," Lee Know patted her head before heading off to his own room, which just so happened to be next door to Bea's.

Which brought her back to now, where she was staring at the ceiling wondering what to do with herself. The empty space in her mind seemed to be filled by another vision.

"Huh? What could this be?" a younger Hwang Hyunjin looked around the walls in his room, Lou hiding trying to muffle her giggles.

Hyunjin looked around at the bizarre and amateur drawings of weird, disproportionate animals drawn on post-it notes, stuck as some sort of mural by his bed.

Lou accidentally let out a laugh at his utterly confused expression.

"Yah, Sun, I can hear you..."

She emerged from her spot, no longer tucked away round the side of the wardrobe.

"Don't you like the drawings I did for you?" she giggled at his 'done' expression.

"I don't know what I'm looking at right now," Hyunjin dramatically deadpanned, before letting out a cackle, only triggering Lou further.

"Look this one is a ferret! It looks like you!" Lou laughed, pointing at his face and then the silly drawing, before running away from him as he chased her.

Some may say that Lou created Jiniret.

The girl blinked as she tuned back into her surroundings. She was happy it wasn't as much of a sad memory, and decided maybe it wouldn't be so bad to tease Hyunjin again. Wearing a mischievous smile on face, she rummaged around the chest of drawers in her room and was happy to find a stash of post-it notes and pens to use for her 'artwork'. Because of course, it would obviously be so much better than Hyunjin's gorgeous paintings. Well, she didn't know if he started painting yet, perhaps he sketched, she did remember seeing a pad of paper in the small vision she just had.

Tiptoeing into the room she remembers seeing herself run past, she quietly pushes down the handle and walks in, relieved that there was no one there yet. Sticking a pink post-it note on the wall, she popped of the lid of the pen and starting working her magic. Soon there was a couple drawings decorating the walls, ranging from Jiniret to Hyunjin pulling dramatic faces, and an artistic impression of him morphed with a llama.

She hoped he would appreciate the effort she put in.

Exiting out his room like nothing happened, she was caugh red handed by the guy himself.

"Lou... why were you in my room?" Hyunjin jumped at seeing her, not expecting her there as he put a hand over his heart, eyes wide.

"Oh... Can't find Garfield," Lou casually nodded and swiftly left the situation, joining the others sat in the living room. She plonked herself down on the sofa, next to Jeongin, giggling to herself.

"Oh no... she is laughing already," Jeongin announced to the room.

"What has our Flo done now?" Changbin questioned with a grin, causing Jisung to stand excitedly.

"Our Flo man! Our f-low! Flow so sick man!" Jisung hyped himself up with Changbin, bouncing in his spot and giving a proper handshake to his hyung.

"This always happens..." Seungmin sighs, pretending to look exhausted from the energy of his members. Or was he pretending...

"You'll find out in 3, 2, 1..." Lou smirked, rubbing her hands together.

"Lou. Ie. Sa!!!" Hyunjin yelled from his room, seeing the monstrosities of doodles that Lou had produced. He marched out of his room and immediately dove onto the girl, tickling her sides.

"Hahaha I got you again!" Lou giggled loudly, kicking her legs as Hyunjin playfully attacked her.

"Lee Know. Hannie. Get your child under control," Hyunjin ran his hands through his hair, pointing at Lou as he stared at the two guys.

"Our Lou has learnt well," Lee Know simply came over and hugged her from behind, patting her head and laughing to himself thinking of the mischief she had caused. This only caused Jisung to laugh harder.

"Jinnie... she decorated your room again?" Felix grinned imagining the sight.

"She vandalised it!" Hyunjin kept up his streak of over-exaggeration, making his members burst out into laughter once more.

Lou giggled once more and hugged Hyunjin from behind, causing him to turn and around and pick her up, depositing her next to Bang Chan.

"He is your only hope now," Hyunjin whimsically said, saluting at Bang Chan before retreating to his room, probably to plot some revenge on the girl.

"What shall we do with you, hmmm?" Bang Chan poked her sides, causing Lou to laugh once again as she accepted the cooing of the leader.

"Send me to art school."

More laughter resounded from the room.

"I can't believe he never noticed you going into his room again..." Changbin shook his head thinking of his dongsaeng.

"You're so sneaky, like a little spy," Seungmin nodded at his own observation.

"Yah! Did the 'little' really have to be there?!" Lou protested, sitting up in her seat and looking at the older with a challenging expression.

"Of course," Seungmin said like it was obvious.

"You're next, Kim Seungmin," Lou confirmed her next plans.

"Oh fighting talk!"

"She's gonna beat him up!"

"Seungmin's going to find out before she does anything."

"Yeah Seungmin is the real spy!"

The members conspired about what was going to happen next.

"Right, we should get some sleep now, got a couple of busy days of practice ahead of us before Miroh is released!" Bang Chan ushered his members to bed.

Lou couldn't help but feel nervous. In her home, universe, let's say, she knew the choreography of Miroh, she loved practising the dances from Stray Kids. But she knew she wasn't the best, and she didn't want to be the reason that the group wouldn't win their first award for the song. She couldn't change things that happened in the original timeline, could she? She thought to future events, like the ISACs and Kingdom, thinking if the group would be able to participate how they originally did due to her being a female. Or would there be special allowances...

Lou wasn't too sure on that for now. But she would have to cross that bridge when she came to it. Now, her first obstacle would be attending their very first live performance. Oh how she wished she had a memory full of everything that had happened to herself in this universe. Getting small glimpses wasn't feeling enough.

And this had just been the first day. She was in for a wild ride.

<-- previous chapter next chapter -->

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @lixie-phoria

[factual-fantasy]

20 Asks! Thank you!! :)) 🎩

@holly-opal (Sent after this post)

I'm still working out the kinks of my AU- but I've got a few ideas in mind for Wally!

First off, he has terrible sleeping problems. :( He can only sleep for a few hours at a time before waking up with heart palpitations and feelings of anxiety :((

He's very casual about these problems and will talk to anyone who asks him about it, The neighbors will ask things like "have you tried this?" or "Have you tried eating this?" And he tries it all, but it never works.. he's not sure why :(

This is my in-world explanation for why Wally talks soooo slowly and has droopy eyes. The poor guy cant get a good nights sleep!

Now what Wally doesn't know, is that his Home is some kind of living entity.. its intentions with Wally are uncertain.. but at night while Wally is sleeping... it watches him.

The aura Home creates causes so much anxiety in Wally that he wakes up. And the feeling of another presence somewhere nearby creates so much anxiety that he cant go back to sleep.

He doesn't really recognize that these feelings could be legitimate. He just thinks to himself "No one is watching you, don't be silly!" He then double checks that his house is all locked up tight and finds a comfortable spot to rest until the anxiety subsides.. (..until home stops watching him..)

I've been experimenting with different ways that Barnaby could find out about just how severe Wally's nighttime anxiety is. And what he would do to help him.. but I haven't settled on an idea yet <:0

@greenkirbkid456u

I have not.. :( but after googling it, the art style looks really cool!! :DD

@birodactyloftheblog

XDD This ask made me laugh, and it was really sweet! Thank you!! :}}

I would love to dip my toes into welcome home a little more, I'm just a bit thin on ideas <XDD

@ivannakoopagirl14

<:0 Sorry what?

<XDD I cant tell what Wally is supposed to be. In canon he's the same height as other characters, dresses rather grown up, had his own house?? Yet so much fanart draws him/portrays him as really young or a child..? With all the neighbors treating him as a child?? <XD Which one is correct??

Not any that I can remember.. I haven't interacted with that fandom for a while <XD And when I did, I mostly stuck to my own blog and my own ideas-

@glitchhayden418

Bloop!! :))

Oof, its sad to hear that's how you found me.. 😔 But its nice to hear that someone feels the same way! :))

As for your question, that's totally fine! :D

@hershelwidget

Thank you so much!! :DDD And to be totally honest I never really think of the environment the sky animals/beasts live in <XD I usually just see the cool mask and imagine what the rest of the creature would look like! :00

Not sure for any specific advice... I'm not great at explaining art things <XDD

Yeah I have her holding an everstone XD and if she evolved she'd look like a man 💀 Which is why I'm keeping her as a cute little baby Kricketune :))

@sevenheven7011

Oh cool! :DDD

@wolfwraithartz

AAAAAA THEY LOOK SO COOL!!! :DDDD

@minnesotamedic186 (Sent after this comic)

That's right! And its a SEAHORSE MASK?? Huh :00 I didn't realize!

Oof, thanks for letting me know.. and it sucks to hear that my art is on your board, that's not good. 😔

@imaplantyay

Oof, thanks for letting me know..

@davesartdesk

👀👀👀I cant wait to see it! :DD

@orchid-harmony

Season of Abyss was a literal and figurative game changer for me. Adding swimming mechanics to sky?? That beautiful ocean(?) to swim in?? I loved it so much and it added so much more playability to the game for me.

..However..... the season of Aurora was mind blowing. Haven't cried that hard at a game before. That's gotta be my favorite season. 🥺💞💞

@stupid-thatsme (Refencing this post)

Man... 😔 I'm so sorry.. 😔😔😔

@kaiserdarken

I'm not sure! :0

XDD Nope! They Ingo and Emmet!

@livinwa

SNake! :D

(Referencing this post)

Same here 😔

@coolguyoninternet

XDD Well I do have a few side blogs, but my sona is only on this blog!

@couchwow

👁️👃👁️

@ozzytheplushiemonster

You'll find someone my frien :(

@neo-metalscottic (Master post trouble)

AAHHH THANK YOU!! :DD I was really proud of that gut punch so I'm glad you liked it! :))

As for if the animatronics have their own show.. I'm not sure :00 I made my AU without them having a show in mind.. but that's not to say they don't have one! Maybe its played on TV outside of the pizzaplex so the main animatronics don't really know about it..? :0

@kittysuicoffee (Sorry for the late reply! <XD)

WAHGGG THESE ARE SO BEAUTIFUL!!!!! 🤩🤩💞💞💞💞

XDD That's me!! :))

[leoruby-draws]

Next up is Owen Mercer aka Boomerang Jr, son of Captain Boomerang and the speedster of the TrWh Outlaw team! Get ready for another long post you guys, god my hands are hurting this week arrughhh.

Owen's a fun character to draw and has a fun personality in general. He's more angsty and dark in the comics but since Digger finds out about him early on, Owen's much more happy in this au. Digger and Owen have a fantastic father-son relationship and Owen really looks up to him. Digger is so happy he found Owen but is kinda frantic on how to raise him, being a villain isn't the best job for a dad. Not sure what age Digger discovers him, maybe 10 or so?

That mini version of Digger's outfit is what Owen would've worn if he was discovered even younger (he's 4-6 in that doodle), preteen Owen would've found that outfit a bit too silly for his tastes tho.

Honestly I'm not sure if Owen even lives with him, since Digger is a rogue and probably in jail more often than not, Owen might still be in foster care. I don't remember if Owen was shown to be adopted in the comics, he was already shown to be an adult. Btw, concerning Owen's age*, I'm slightly lowering his age to better fit with Jason's age group (he's 12 to Jason's 10). He, along with Jack Moore, are the oldest of the team, too bad Owen doesn't care about acting his age!

While Owen loves hanging out with his father, he also likes to hang out with the Flash aka Barry Allen. Barry has been mentoring Owen on and off (much to Wally's dismay) and has been slowly pushing him towards heroism. He's knows Owen's got a good heart and see's that he has the potential to access the speedforce. Owen's a character that's caught between two worlds, rogue and hero. Does he want to follow in his father's footsteps or go follow Barry?

What a conundrum, but this is a problem he had in the comics. His struggle to figure what to do with his life. Actually, I think I heard somewhere he was actually created with the intent to replace Wally as the Flash but they dropped that plot point, leaving him adrift in the comics. Let me know if that's wrong tho!

Captain Cold aka Leonard Snart isn't helping matters as you can see in that vague threat up there, I'd like to better define that relationship between those two but I'd need to read more comics with Leonard to do that.

Here I have Owen with some of his friends and his dad. I said in my last post with Rankorr, that he and Owen's friendship is a nod towards the famous Green Lantern/Flash partnership. Owen's always trying to get Jack to loosen up and have fun, Jack sometimes finds this annoying but is slowly letting Owen in his life. You can see up there Owen giving Jason a ride someplace, bet Jason wishes he took the bus lol.

You can see Owen gushing over Para Dice, his canonical girlfriend from Rebirth. Owen at some point meets her in Australia and has an instant crush on her. Para is a rather mysterious girl, but has taken a liken to Owen as well. Still too young for a proper romance tho, plus Owen would need to sharpen up his speed skills if he wants to make this LDR work.

There's Digger training Owen in the art of the boomerang, rogue or hero, any son of Cap. Boomerang will be a learn to toss a good boomerang!

Another drawing of these two, aren't they adorable?

Here's Owen bother poor Lisa Snart aka Golden Glider. Owen can be a little insensitive, tho he's never actually malicious in intent (usually). Always thought it was weird that Lisa was considered a candidate for Owen's mother, she didn't seem old enough for that (Owen was like early twenties). Anyways Lisa thinks he's an annoying little twerp...

...and not the only one. Here's Owen bothering poor Jesse. Also you can see I messed up on her shirt design, wasn't really thinking about what I was drawing I guess. I do that sometimes lol.

On the nature of Owen's and Jason's relationship, they seem to quite like each other. Neither of them had many friends before the team, and find easy camaraderie in having simple boyish fun together, which is something they kinda needed in life. You'll sometimes see them making complex plans for the next prank (Lori is invited as well).

In team dynamics, Jason can find Owen tendency to not take fights seriously kinda annoying. While Owen can sometimes disregard Jason's leadership (should Jason be leader that day I mean) due to him being younger. Friction isn't common between them though, perhaps because they got a lot in common.

From being caught between opposing morality, difficulty in finding a niche in the DC comics, even in trying to discover who their mothers are. Its can be validating to know people who understand what your going through.

Little more focus on Owen's relations, I said that Barry has been trying to steer Owen towards good but I also think that Barry just thinks that Owen is just a fun little guy in general. I'd think they get along pretty well, Wally looks so pissed tho. There was this one comic where Hal had Wally as a sidekick for a day and Barry was pretty jealous. Guess the reverse is happening here. Wally's a favored target for Owen's pranks, so this whole situation is just very annoying to him.

Here's Digger introducing Owen to the rogues, Leonard looks befuddled at all this (Digger got a girl preggo? crazy).

Wanted to have Digger and Owen watch cartoons together, so I looked up Australian cartoons, found something called Bluey. Apparently it's super popular, even adults like it. So I found some free cartoons on youtube and yeah. It really is that good. Look it up if you want to see some fun, relaxing cartoons with smart writing!

To finish off this mass of words, here's Owen being a goofball with Eddie and Jason. I'm slowly finding that Owen's got a pretty fun dynamic with most anyone I draw him with. So that's been fun.

All this and I still haven't gone into Meloni and Bart, but it's best if I leave that for later. Anyways, hoped you like all that!

*About Owen's age, the comics never specified what his age actually was. All I know he's in his twenties but still younger than Dick's age group. Young enough to be unsure of his place in the world, but old enough that his 'relationship' with Kara to be weird. I guess it'd be less weird in my au with a smaller age gap, but that's still not happening.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

hiii!! mafia au today?

WIP Wednesday (9/25) | Mafia Front Restaurant AU (Part 225)

The three of them arrive only minutes before Andrew. Kevin hears obnoxious rapping on the front door just as Jean is unloading grocery bags into the fridge. He can't remember what Jean is making for them today, something good. Kevin knows it'll be good. If he can keep it down. He's an exposed nerve and has been since they left the apartment. Kevin isn't even sure why. Andrew evidently isn't going to post anything about what he saw last night. And truthfully, Kevin knew that all along. Andrew isn't like that. Not really. He's a 'get in your face' type person, not a 'get on the internet' one.

So now Kevin's dreading an 'in your face' confrontation. Neil pushes past him to go answer the door and Kevin immediately goes to the kitchen's little window. He watches Neil let Andrew in and lock the door behind them before going to sit down. The two of them immediately start talking about something Kevin can't hear from here and Neil produces their deck of cards.

After that, Kevin simply can't tear himself away. He isn't sure if it's jealously or... No, he knows that's exactly what it is. He wishes he could waltz out there and strike up a conversation with Andrew as easily as Neil. But he just can't. Not after everything. So he just watches the two of them.

And, anytime Andrew smiles— which is a rare thing— Kevin is transported back to his sophomore year when Andrew was nothing but a mouthful of teeth and sharp words. After Easthaven, Andrew changed. For the better, of course. But he was quiet. Too quiet. And apathetic as a corncob. It's not like that now though. Andrew seems genuinely happy. Or at least content.

It makes Kevin happy to see him this way. Somewhere in between.

Though he's more than a bit devastated to be outside looking in, so to speak. Back at PSU, Kevin was the only one allowed past his walls. And he barely had a foot in the door! How the fuck has Neil pried the door open and climbed all the way inside? In just a few days? Is Neil really so interesting (Andrew liked interesting) or has Andrew changed a lot in the last few years? Maybe both. Definitely both.

"Mon cher?"

Kevin blinks and turns away from the window to find Jean looking at him expectantly. "Oh, sorry. Did you say something?"

Jean gives a heavy sigh. "If you want to talk to him, just go."

"I can't do that, Jean."

"You can. I'm fine with it."

"Are you?"

"Well, mostly. I want you to do what you want. I am not in charge of you," Jean pauses for a moment. "At least, not when we're standing up."

That draws a laugh from Kevin, but it turns into a sigh. "He hates me, Jean."

"He doesn't."

"He has every right to."

"If he does, he's a fool." Jean says with a shrug. "Talk to him or not, but don't obsess about it. Go out there or come to me and help with this."

After a moment's consideration, Kevin makes his choice and goes to Jean's side.

-

The rest of the day passes smoothly. Kevin learns how to (badly) peel potatoes, Jean laughs at him. Neil runs back and forth between them and Andrew. And Andrew doesn't get up from their booth until night falls and it's time to leave. Kevin watches Neil take him to the door and sighs with longing. Jean takes his hand and twirls him around. "Didn't I say not to obsess?"

"I'm not." Kevin lies.

[quibbs126]

Okay, so I saw a post on Twitter a couple days ago by @leonisloresmith, where basically the idea is that the Ancients used to look different before they got their Soul Jams, and I liked the idea a lot. Cut to 24 hours later and it’s still on my mind, and so I’m like “screw it I’m stealing the idea” and so we got this

So yeah, pre-Soul Jam Ancients. I guess it’s sort of an AU, since as far as I can tell, in actual canon the Ancients have always looked the way they do

It’s only Hollyberry, Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese because they were the only ones I had thought about things for. I had drawn Pure Vanilla, but I realized that I wasn’t working with any real ideas, I was just drawing him for the sake of drawing them all, so I decided to just finish up these three for now and save Vanilla and Lily for another day

The original post didn’t specify changing the ingredients, but I wanted to because to be honest, there’s not a whole lot you can do to change their appearances while keeping their original names in my opinion. But I thought I should keep their core flavors similar, still being vanilla, berries, cacao/chocolate, cheese and flower (though I stuck with lilies to be consistent)

I have names for all of them, though tbh I’m still debating White Lily’s

Juniper Berry -> Hollyberry

Cacao Nib -> Dark Cacao

Cheese Dust -> Golden Cheese

Vanilla Bean -> Pure Vanilla

Wood Lily -> White Lily

It isn’t the names for the other two I’m particularly stuck on, rather it’s their backstories. Speaking of which, let’s get to what I have

So first, Juniper Berry. Juniper here I’m thinking came from a family that runs an inn or tavern, mostly just because of the whole berry juice thing. I imagine that despite the likely rowdy nature of her upbringing, it was a pretty good one. Truth be told that’s all I think I have to say on the matter, a lot less than I thought

I made her juniper berries because I wanted something in a different color, maybe something blue. And also because I randomly saw that juniper berries are apparently used in gin, and again, berry juice. I apologize to the Hollyberry fans, I really just focus on the berry juice aspect of her character when I know she has more going on. I was debating if I should make her skinnier, with the idea that she would have grown physically after getting her Soul Jam, but then I thought that’d be a really bad idea so I kept her as is. She can still be a strong girl and have Cacao be the one with the large physical change. Also I made her eyebrows round because that’s what Royal Berry has

Speaking of Cacao Nib, let’s get to him. So I imagine that Cacao grew up somewhere around the coast of the region and that generally, what family he had wasn’t very well off, and that he had to take on a lot of responsibility at a young age to help out. He’s also very small, even for his age. He also might be mute, or otherwise just very quiet

Okay this is one of my hyperfixation characters so I have more to say on him. I was struggling with his flavor since there’s not a lot you can do while keeping him cacao, but someone suggested to me cacao nibs and I went with that. As for his eyes, well they’re red because of Dark Choco. As for why the eye lines are dark, if you recall a previous post, I said I’m now headcanoning him as having some ancestry from the Licorice Tribe due to having sea salt in his dough (though not like his parents or anything, grandparents at least), and so I wanted to reference that here, as well as with his pin. It’s also why I’m putting him at the coast. Now granted, I recognize it makes more sense to make him related to the Coffee Tribe, with cacao having caffeine in it and his dilated pupil thing, but shush, let me do what I want. I wanted to make him the shortest so that basically, when he gets his Soul Jam, he magically shoots up to being the tallest, or maybe second tallest behind Hollyberry. Also him being short fits in with my headcanon that he’s the youngest Ancient

Next up and our final one for today, we have Cheese Dust. So Cheese was technically an orphan Cookie, but she was taken in and raised by a flock of Cheesebirds. She likes gold and shiny things, and also she does a lot of inventing, making small gadgets in her spare time, and trying to figure out if she can make functional wings for herself

I went with cheese dust for her because I think her original book description talked about cheese dust in it. And it sounds a little better than Cheese Powder to me. I know I made her eyes completely different than canon, but in part it was inspired by the other non-Golden Cheese Kingdom Cookies like Cheesecake and Roguefort, and also her eyes being triangle shaped in old concept art. And I just wanted to. The hair’s inspired by other pieces of concept art with her hair down, though I was struggling with what color to make it, eventually going with this. I wanted to make her the second shortest, being a bit taller than Cacao (though the difference is a lot smaller in the final picture), with the idea that while Cacao grows after getting her Soul Jam, she doesn’t, and so now she’s the shortest of the group

And I think that’s it for now, hopefully I’ll be able to get ideas for Vanilla and Lily done soon, I hope you find this enjoyable

[femalemonsterhunter]

I'm very sorry for the fact that I feel so inactive rn on every social app/site like Insta and DA themselves regarding posting to something like my finished drawings for several reasons 😭💀💀, or somehow I forgot to even post this finished drawing I made in two or three weeks ago.

Also, here's my art style/AU version but (probably or not) the first attempt of CatDog from the eponymous Nickelodeon cartoon show, however, I somewhat deliberately just separated them as instead of trying to draw them as originally conjoined twins, which I can't do for such good reasons. And plus, I even thoughtfully headcanoned their full name, if it's that simple.

Yeah, I more or less remember when I liked this cartoon show SO much when I first saw it on TV with Ukrainian in my school age (and ofc, as I recall, there was also a one Russian language for the voice of Cat), and then ofc in my adolescence, but still in a school age ‘till 2017, somewhere in 2015 to 2016 (if I don’t even know than I remember) as I used to use on big bro’s old laptop as in every way re-watched every episode of CatDog and even drew barely a lot like in my Star Heart Heart (basically known as “Girl and Friends” since was cringy ass old but former name of my Crossover AU project ‘till 2018 or 2019 its name was literally changed to ”Star Heart” atm, apparently) version and others, and ofc I had a constant but weird crush on Cliff, cuz I have no idea how to explain it, but he is still for me a toughy awesome and totally badass dog guy on the list of favorite villains 🙈. And regardless of the fact that he still bullying Cat for all sorts of unclear reasons.

Anyway, any of you guys have also seen this cartoon show before since your childhood or something?

And still, I hope you enjoy my version of CatDog so honestly.

Art and idea names and more for the main CatDog characters are belongs to me (C)

Cat and Dog from the CatDog are belongs to Peter Hannan and his eponymous production/Nickelodeon Animation Studio/Serom Animation/Rough Daft Korea (C)

[skazoo]

hit me with your killshot.

↳ jeong yunho x f!reader

you trusted each other but now your words mean nothing and your actions speak the truth.

length. 1.6k

genre. angst until it's not..., fluff, secret au bc i can't spoil

warnings/tags. war language, weapons, non-explicit violence, betrayal, mention of death.

networks. @kflixnet k-labels

notes. oh, how i love writing this au it brings me sm joy you don't understand. hope you like it!

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

all is fair in love and war.

your mother used to say it all the time when you and wooyoung were kids and fought constantly over the most stupid things. she always said it with an amused smile on her lips, like she knew something you were not yet privy to, and when you were younger the notion of being kept in the dark by the person you trusted the most angered you. scared you.

you couldn’t understand what those words really meant. what did love and war —irreconcilable antitheses, mortal enemies— have to do with each other? and why did it seem like everyone around you, your older brother included, had accepted the sad juxtaposition as truth? 

years passed, you and wooyoung got used to one another, fought less, and the enigmatic phrase seldom left your mother’s mouth to the point that it started to fade away under the new memories of your teenage years.

just when it was about to get buried by your twenties, something happened that you hadn’t thought possible. something you’d skeptically deemed ‘not for you’. he happened. yunho happened.

and your mother’s words finally made sense.

all is fair in love and war because the rules of normal civility do not apply during war-making, and when one is desperately in love; because love and war have universally accepted limits but if one were to break those unwritten rules someone would still find a way to justify, to forgive and forget.

but something in the old proverb felt incomplete.

love and war are not the only gods that rule over the earth and you wonder how did the people that came before you not realize the looming force of the third: business. 

what is fair in business? 

what about your business? where it costs little to play dirty and it pays off handsomely? in which love is a mere distraction and war is a means to an end?

and now you’re the lonely bearer of the weight of this third secret factor. now that you’re at war and you’re running from love, you think back about the times you didn’t understand and wish to be brought back there. clueless but free.

it feels stupid to think about all this while you’re tiptoeing around the upper floor of the dark arena —battlefield of the ruthless game you all play— but it’s really all you can do, high off adrenaline and anticipation, waiting for someone to distract the unfortunate victim you have chosen for this round just so you can fix the red laser beam on its unsuspecting back and shoot your shot, granting your team one more chance at victory, at survival.

you crouch down, rifle in front of you and you scan the ground sector through your scope.

from up here you can see what goes on in the maze below. every movement, every noise has you drawing a mental map of the players. 

you can see jongho’s head slowly but surely cornering a terrified choi san to the east wall of the arena, meaning that sooner than later you’ll have an advantage in numbers over the rival team. from the sound of his shotgun reloading almost faster than it shoots, seonghwa must be stalking down kim hongjoong —sworn enemy and skilled sniper— somewhere around the entrance gates. that leaves wooyoung staring at you from the ground, weapon in hand and eyebrows raised in a telling frown. one that shows you he’s ready to play his part in your minutely crafted plan. 

the high wall of the maze is the only thing separating him and your target of choice. kang yeosang leans idly against the hard barrier that cages all of you in like he doesn’t know he’s being hunted for survival, as if he doesn’t realize your brother has been waiting for months to see him fail at your team’s hands.

he starts humming something under his breath too and it’s then that you realize that something– someone extremely dangerous is missing from your mind-map.

when jongho hit one of his teammates in the stomach, your personal and complicated enemy fled the north section before you could follow his movements and with the quick plan of taking out yeosang in full motion you forgot to look for him.

your head snaps to either side of the narrow platform you’re standing on. the thought of his dark eyes watching you this whole time sends chills down your back and makes a heavy weight drop to your stomach.

how did you end up like this? 

before the arena, before you started to play this sick game for a chance at a happier life, everything was just as perfect as it could have been.

jeong yunho. same age and lifelong friend of your annoying brother. tall, built, and handsome, one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen and a laugh you still can’t get out of your head. 

your mother was so happy when wooyoung grumpily let the fact that you were stealing his friend away from his group activities slip during a visit home from the city.

and oh, were you happy. 

navigating the hardest periods of your young life, in a hostile environment with the sweetest words whispered into your ear every night before you went to sleep.

then the ragtag group of friends you found yourself spending most of your time with, made the cursed discovery. every and each one of you got sucked in before you could realize what it meant.

it stood at the core of the city, a dark monster of metal and neon, big enough just for the bloodshed it hosted. the arena with no physical public, just big screens that displayed what went on in hell.

it started as curiosity and now you face this nightmare every week, hoping to win the glory that you all adamantly desire for different reasons. wooyoung to finally end yeosang’s incredible luck. seonghwa to destroy hongjoon’s ego. jongho for fun. and you to escape the game of cat and mouse you play with the one you trusted with your life.

you shake from your trance and try to listen for any sign that the tall soldier is near. 

amongst the noise of the ground floor, you fail to capture the clang of his boots on the metal grate but yunho doesn’t care to hide from you anymore.

from the crouched position you still have, he looms over you with sad coldness, staring you down like he’s trying to understand where you come from.

then he speaks. voice low, gelid. you can feel the anger through it. “did you take mingi out?”

“yunho–”

“he tried to warn me about you, you know. did you?”

you shake your head slightly. your teammate won’t care if you tell on him. your bloodthirsty sniper wants people to know what he’s capable of. “jongho…”

“it was your plan though.”

it’s the truth but it still hurts. “yunho, listen–”

“it’s always your plans that put me in the worst positions.” he aims his gun at your chest, his hands trembling slightly from the strong grip he has on the weapon; knuckles white.

your voice breaks when you speak. “yunho, please i know you don’t want to do this. please.”

“are you really begging right now?” he scoffs. “mingi was your friend, Y/N! you were going to shoot yeosang in the back!” he nods the gun to the ground floor where wooyoung is still waiting for your move. “i’m done with letting you win, i’m sorry. i can’t watch you do this anymore.”

your rifle is your only source of comfort right now and you grip it with all your might. even now you can’t seem to point it at the man that stands before you. even now you can’t bear that you’re on different sides of the same battle.

“you have to understand…” it sounds like he’s trying to justify himself more than anything.

“understand what, yunho?” you spat. “you’re standing over me telling me to understand but i really can’t because you’re doing the same thing! you’re going to kill me and call it justice!”

he flinches.

“look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. tell me that i meant nothing to you, that it was all a lie and then maybe i will understand you.”

“Y/N–”

“i love you.” your eyes cloud with heartbreak and a single tear makes its way down your cheek. 

everything is over. betrayed by your own lover. killed by love and war.

his finger moves to the trigger. time slows down. you close your eyes.

“i will always love you.” a whisper.

instead of the bang of the gun a loud siren that resonates throughout the entire arena.

“TIME’S OUT!” yeosang cheers followed by wooyoung’s groans.

mingi and san pop their heads from the exit door with small smiles on their lips. “it’s a draw but we all did great guys!”

the others find their way towards the exit, technical gear coming off while the lights of the arena switch back on.

“just– for next time maybe we should finally change teams so that those two up there don’t go full mr. and mrs. smith on us!” mingi’s loud voice reaches everyone.

“yes, please. it’s just laser tag you guys, no need to be that dramatic over it.” wooyoung’s clearly addressing you and everyone agrees with him with quiet grunts.

your boyfriend who still looms over you throws you an amused grin and offers you his hand to get up. when you’re back on your feet he dusts off your shirt and dries the cinematic tear off your cheek. big hands put your mussed hair behind your ears and cup your face.

“they think we’re too much.”

“they just can’t handle us, yuyu. let them cry.”

he chuckles loudly as you place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“by the way, next week i’m finally taking you out.” you taunt.

“like, on a date or with a sniper?”

[maluspumilaa]

word ramble about the southerngothic farcille au bc im too tired to draw rn + i want to get better at talking about my fandom stuff on here !! below the cut since im still a bit shackled by cringe

so i had an entire whiteboard but its gone now because i am Not paying for premium but thats okay

this is pretty unstructured but i really like chewing on this au brainstyle

i think that imogen and laudna met on the island after separately being adventurers for a little bit (personally i think laudna wouldnt have had the best luck getting jobs, with the whole scary/off-putting thing about her, but still would be scraping by) – no magic academy, sorry farcille lovers

in terms of the bells hells: im honestly not sure !! i think that it would be cool to have them just be an adventuring party and all have ventured down to save laudna but i dont know how that would work, since it gets dangerous to adventure with a party larger than six or so... maybe someone joins after laudna dies, senshi style? i dont know how much meshi will be in the dungeon meshi au tbh

a lot of this au is me building around the fact i went "what if lesbians from one fandom were the lesbians from the other one" tbh

the treant that laudna is chimaeraed up with is definitely meant to do the same job as the red dragon from dunmeshi . im thinking about a crazy large treant btw. like a hulking monstrous mass of gnarled branches that shambles with alarming speed. bark so thick it seems like fire doesnt do anything except anger it. all that

also !! @/sharkodactyl 's comments on my first art post about this au made me insane (/pos), i def think that the imagery of replacing some of laudnas bones with parts of the treant is awesome... something something it ground up some of her bones to use like bone meal for itself and its not like they can just fix that damage

so they use parts from the treant in the ritual hoping that the absorbed bone will be okay to use . and it turns out fine (no it doesnt) !

ABOUT THE RESURRECTION: i think mashing the dnd and dungeon meshi resurrection scenes would be beautiful to me. i deeply enjoy laudnas resurrection in c3, maybe with the ancient magic ritual there has to be some calling of the spirit to beckon it forth or something?? i just want imogen to talk to laudna before the ritual . feels like it raises the stakes or something

also!! if you look at my au art youll see that laudna still has her ear cuff things. that is because i gave her different trauma for this au ♡

until there was some event like what happened in falins backstory, but after laudna was an adult, leading to worse, more direct treatment from her village/city – i was thinking that due to the general anti-elf/anti-magic attitude in her village, individuals deemed especially "dangerous" or suspected of practicing dark magic would have their ears cut to resemble elves (similar to the canaries but. worse i think)

from what ive gathered, a lot of tallman communities in dungeon meshi (specifically what ive seen of laios and falins northern village) are to some degree intolerant of magic, not super open minded, and to me laudna hails from a village or city around there (or somewhere similar to there) and ended up leaving because, like falin, she had an affinity towards seeing ghosts and performing magic and suffered for it

generally, she was a little bit of an outcast even as a child because she was just kind of scary? she had that weird girl swag but nothing that made her stick out all that much

SO BASICALLY thats why she has those ear covers. she doesnt like looking at the scars . maybe they also tried to hang her ? i dont know

also alsoo imogen in this au does have her lightning markies. frequently i forget those. i think theyre more subtle generally (to the point of looking like really pronounced veins) and restricted to mostly her wrists/hand area but they do glow when she uses magic (not a lot ! maybe a lot during the resurrection scene but thats for my enjoyment more than anything)

her lighning markies + hair color is still from her being ruidus-born. it has some sway over ley lines/mana in some way but the attitude in this au is very much the same as in exandria in cr (represents negative things to people, not seen as a good omen, and generally isnt focused on). it still flares and such, but the flares affect stuff with magic – something something it makes magic more volatile/is linked in some way to ancient magic

i think imogen (+ her mother) would have been fairly ostracized by the small village she grew up in (but not as severely as laudna) due to their unique appearances as a result of being ruidus-born. liliana still leaves relvin and a young imogen but not before introducing lifespan angst into her daughters mind

i think. ruidus flares fuck with peoples lifespan. generally elongates them by a good bit? since it has that connection with ancient magic which is from a time of longer lifespans and such

anyways. imogen ventured out from home to find out where her mother went + learn more about her ruidus-born status and such. she came to melini (or. the exandrian equivalent to it?) for research reasons, maybe to make money before setting off on her travels once again or something

and then met laudna and was charmed a normal amount by her on first meeting and decided to stay dungeon diving with her (and bells hells? for a little while after)

also dont ask about pate i dont know either. maybe he is just a little inanimate puppet made out of dead things or maybe hes a regular rat that wears a bird skull sometimes . maybe he has wings . hes a familiar he can do what he wants

if you made it this far, thank you for reading !! i would love interaction about this au :3 sorry if any of this got really long or ramble-y i have many thoughts LOL

[blurglesmurfklaine]

NEWSIES UNO REVERSE

I LOVE IT

tell me EVERYTHING

starting questions I have

-what happens to esther, Sarah and mayer in this au

-how does this change les and jack's dynamic of like "cool older kid who's street smart" and "little kid who idolises him"

- what happens, is Jack now the more educated one, is it Jack who has the words to start a strike,

-who leads the manhattan lodging house

-has davey had run ins with Brooklyn before (and what does Jack think of Brooklyn when he becomes a newsie)

-does davey like getting into fights (bc I think especially 92sies David would, but bc of how he's been brought up he dismisses the mere notion and avoids fisticuffs)

ok warning u now I will have more questions later haha

I WELCOME ALL THE QUESTIONS!!! Sorry this is sooooo long but here:

what happens to esther, Sarah and mayer in this au

Oooh I haven’t thought about Sarah yet! But I will tie it in to what happens to the Jacobs parents. Be warned, it is Sad and Tragic.

Mayer tangles with a delivery truck, just like in livesies, but instead of staying at home he leaves the state to find work with family somewhere west. He never comes back. This happens when Davey is about eight. Sarah is a little older, maybe twelve, and Esther is pregnant with Les, who never gets to meet his father. Three years later, Esther falls ill and passes. I imagine Sarah being the oldest and ‘Most promising’ would be sent/taken away to live with an elderly relative, or possibly some sort of home for girls

how does this change les and jack's dynamic of like "cool older kid who's street smart" and "little kid who idolises him"

Well Jack is still Jack, you know? Oh and if you thought he was confident before, just IMAGINE how insufferable he in a world where he had a clean bed and full stomach every day?

I think Les would see him as the cool new “rich” kid who is confident enough to try anything and has all these wonderful stories about growing up in the theatre—which Davey obviously cannot stand bc he believes Les should keep his head on earth

what happens, is Jack now the more educated one, is it Jack who has the words to start a strike

Omg omg ong okay SO I’ve actually been thinking bout this a TON, and although their on roles are switched, they still are the characters they are if that makes sense??? So in my mind, it’s still Davey who has the words and information to start the strike—orphaned or not, this motherfucker READS. Similar to the show though he sort of sparks the idea, and Jack is kind of egging him on which Davey doesn’t understand because Jack HAS a mother, a family, he has so much more to lose

And there is this one scene that has been chewing on my brain and shaking it nonstop like a Rottweiler with a toy. Jack is still very much an artist in this AU, and Davey is the one who escaped from The Refuge.

Post rally apology scene, Jack says he’s talked to Kath and they have an idea—Davey says he just talked to her, too… and Davey isn’t kissing and telling but he doesn’t have to. Jack can tell there’s something (and there’s a lot of internal angst from Jack about this, who is trying to stay cool)

Anyway. The plan involves needing words and art for The Neesies Banner. Kath and Davey’s words, and Jack’s art. So Jack and Davey sit down together, Davey recounting everything he went through at the refuge while Jack draws it.

And then Jack can’t take it anymore and puts his pencil down and Davey’s like “???? Why’d you stop?”

Jack looks at him and just says, “I am so sorry this happened to you” and Davey is taken SO aback because he doesn’t think anyone has ever told him that and they have A Moment and uh oh??? Feelings??? And the moment breaks and they scramble away to the printing press at Pulitzers basement lol

-who leads the manhattan lodging house

Davey, but in a more unassuming way! He’s not so outright about it, and definitely not a big personality. He mostly talks kids out of making stupid decisions, but if they’re stubborn enough (Race) he’s not going to waste his time, because they’ll find out the hard way (Also Race). He’s not even necessarily the “leader” he’s just sort of the oldest and has been there the longest so

-has davey had run ins with Brooklyn before (and what does Jack think of Brooklyn when he becomes a newsie)

Davey has had a run in with Brooklyn through Race. I can see Race getting into a scuffle with Spot and Davey having to intervene. Not sure WHY yet? Maybe Race was selling on Brooklyn turf, maybe he was conning Brooklyn newsies, but I DO know that Davey was Very Annoyed about having to save Race’s ass

-does davey like getting into fights (bc I think especially 92sies David would, but bc of how he's been brought up he dismisses the mere notion and avoids fisticuffs)

Honestly? I don’t think he *likes* it, but he realizes the necessity of it quite early on!

THANK YOU FOR THESE!! They were so fun! 🤩 Anyone anywhere anytime is ALWAYS welcome to ask me about my brainrot newsies AUs lol

[kaledya]

Oh Kaledya, 😭

Holy shit !

I almost strangled myself seeing Lolicia drawing by you again ! She is so pretty in your style, my baby, *ugly cry*. I will try to draw her as you did ! It will be fun ! Thank you for the gift! Really. I will put it on the characters glossary at the beginning of the fanfic ! I really love the shape of her eyes you did and the hairstyles ! Everything. Thank you!

And I will answer here for the previous post :

Thank you again for Lolicia compliments ! I want to draw her with Constantine or Serenity but I'm so scared to not draw them good. Perhaps with time ! I will give you a gift back !

_

I'm glad you having fun with the "characters interactions chapters" ! Its fun to write too even if a bit challenging because they all have different personality and I try to make it great for all. Also Alastor and Lolicia dialogue was nice and I love the 1920s slang !

And yes Monet, as you described her, would hate that Charlie said the Clown Pageant is less popular ahah

_

And yes, also I have a question for the timelines !

For me, it was like this from what you told on YouTube posts for the storyline :

  - Charlie's bonding activities   - then Lucifer comes to see the Hotel   - Lucifer breaks his silence and talk to Michael   - Charlie goes to Heaven and meet the 6 Archangels with the songs inspired by epic (heaven arc)   - Charlie after the trial need to make proof that the hotel works - Azrael say the hotel is not touched by the Extermination   - Then the Greatest Song, Man (Greatest show man mini arc)   - Meeting with the Overlords (introduction of the Vees)

Because the Vees are main villains in SS AU, right?

  - Alastor "reunion" with Serinity after she takes his defence on the meeting   - Alastor VS Vox (like stayed gone)   - And somewhere Angel Dust business with Valentino and Charlie show her authority.   - [...]

This is how I plan it, but if you preferred i can change it and do the greatest show man arc before the heaven arc ?

You can choose ! Because I'm not sure if I understand right.

_

Thank you and you are a wonderful artist and creator ! 🌸🌟 Thank you again for the gift (screaming)

Sorry the message was way too long

Have a great day as always- marquisev

First of all, I'm so glad you liked my fanart! Seriously, drawing Lolicia was a pleasure!🌟❤️

And I'm so glad to hear that you want to draw Serenity and Constantine, and don't worry.I will Love how you draw them in any way . Also, I really liked your drawing style, the art you put in the fanfic were really great.

I seriously think you have a beautiful talent!❤️

This was the plan I had in mind.

But I am not a writer and I think you will make the best decision and this is your story, you can write it however you want, you don't even have to ask me❤️

The plan I have in mind:

In my AU, I generally left the issues related to Heaven until later (season 2).

In my mind, the first season is about the members of the hotel forming bonds and starting to support each other.It included character development of characters like Angel and Husk. That's why the greatest showdemon arc happened at the beginning of the first season and the team was starting to work with each other and really get to know each other.As the season progresses,

the Overlord meeting

(Alastor knows who Misfortune is. In his past, Alastor tried to hunt Serenity like other overlords, but Serenity ended it with a conversation instead of a fight.They have no friendship. Serenity revealed her identity after arriving at the hotel in the 2nd season

(The reason for this was that Season 2 was generally related to the backgrounds of the characters, and since Serenity was directly connected to Alastor's background, I put her in that section)

Alastor's fight with Vox, Angel's confrontation with Val, Mentioning the past of Husk and Angel (This part takes place in the scene where Angel and Husk are discussing their problems before the song Loser Baby)

Constantine is also a character from Season 1. After the Greatest Showdemon arc (Not exactly after that arc, but I didn't know exactly which events to put. After the team members and the hotel have seriously improved) when the hotel makes serious progress, Charlie invites her brother to the hotel to show her progress. (Charlie and Lucifer's relationship is seriously bad in this AU, so Charlie doesn't try to reach her father,she thinks "he won't listen to me anyway)

And Constantine, who saw sinners improving in a truly strange way He gets the proof he wants And after this thing, he personally goes to his Father and says these words to Lucifer after a serious conversation.

"I will not repeat myself again, father. Consider this as a warning from your son. Either you put your pride aside and go to your daughter and listen to her ideas and plans. or As a result of the decision you made, not only will you lose your daughter whom you love dearly, but you will also not have a son. Make your choice father, you don't have much time. Until then, I hope you have fun in your eternal loneliness."

After this conversation, Lucifer comes to the hotel and confronts Charlie. listens to her ideas.

I don't have a full timeline, but in general, all the events I write about happen before the heaven arc.I wanted Charlie to go to heaven with as much evidence as possible and to gain self-confidence and become more of a leader in the meantime.

If I were to write in summary form. (I don't write in the form of a timeline, just events)

Season 1

-Charlie's meeting with Adam

-Team bonding

-Greatest show demon arc (this is included in the team's bonding tool)

-Overlord meeting

-Vox and AI fight

-Angel getting rid of Val

-Constantinen's arrival at the hotel.

(There may be a lot different arcs in this season, I really don't know, most things are still WIP)

SEASON 1 in general A season where the Vees are the main enemies.

Season 2 (The main enemy in this season may be Roo, but I don't know)

-Serenity comes to the hotel

-Lucifer comes to the hotel

-Charlie goes to heaven alone.

-she meets all the true archangels one by one and finally tries to convince Azrael.

So yes, these are what I have in mind, but my thoughts are generally WIP.As I said, this is your story and I'm not a good writer, so it would probably be better if you decide the plot yourself! 🌟❤️

--

If this is the way you planned, you can use this plan too! This is your story, you can write it however you want🌟

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Thank YOU SO much🌟

And it's really nothing, drawing Lolicia was a real pleasure❤️❤️

Have a great day too!