#I know it's a major stretch but just bear with me

[shitposting-fox]

Personal head cannon: the reason Okarun gets depressed in his yokai form is due to the lingering effects of Turbo-granny and the location-bound spirit. Spoilers for the manga will be under the cut!

This is due to a few things:

1. The backstory of the tunnel, yokai, and spirit

2. "Dandadan" as a word's potential meaning (major manga spoilers at that point!)

First, the spirits. We've already seen with Momo her ability to view the past of a yokai (Arco Silky) and we know Seiko was aware of the ongoing history behind the tunnel both Turbo-granny and the location-bound spirit where in.

With a combination of the curse, it's not a far stretch that the lingering emotions from the deceased may be having a subtle effect on Okarun.

While it's not been very overt, we've seen how the origin of a yokai is important to how they act. Those who are more vengeful will be more likely to attack whereas those who are from grief may try to protect (albeit a violent way).

While Turbo-granny is in the maneki-neko and her powers are in Okarun, there's a chance that the feelings that helped form those powers may have a subconscious effect on him. Hence, the general depression but extreme protectiveness.

Spoilers from the manga below!!

We saw him literally get on all fours like a guard dog, and push his body to the breaking point repeatedly. Going with the assumption the deceased are subconsciously effecting him, it makes more sense why the protectiveness is amped up too.

Many of the girls were probably desperate for someone to save them, anyone, and that urgency could translate into the need to protect the others (especially Momo) as a result.

The second reason I have this theory is because of the potential meaning of "dandadan"!

This one is a lot more flimsy so bear with me here. While I've already wanted for manga spoilers I'm gonna mention again MAJOR SPOILERS for the manga.

Alright so! Dandadan as a word is similar to だんだん or "dandan" which often translates to "gradually".

I don't know very much about Japanese wordplay besides a few from songs (Love Ka, song based on the Japanese word for frilled shark and the English word love), so I could be completely wrong in this guess. But I feel like the word could be an original creation for implying the gradual change of an individual due to surrounding yokai and spirits

Before I get into the Shinto rambling, I'll mention the big point that got me thinking this was the effects after Okarun lost his powers. He still excelled is a lot of sport areas and, while it could be attributed to him working out consistently, there's also a possibility he has some... Influence, let's say, from a certain yokai.

We haven't seen much of him yet after all of this, so it could be very wrong, but the way it was brought up seemed to imply a greater importance than just normal athleticism.

Now for the Shinto rambling!!

To keep it pretty short: the body plays a major role in Shinto. We've seen it with the golden balls (strong life force amped up by a yokai) plus the give and take of various yokai forms (physicality for Okarun, hair treatment for Aira).

Shinto itself has the body on a pretty high importance. Most Asian religions tend to have more focus on the body, weather it be on asceticism (bodily denial) or purity

Dandadan has shown a lot of Shinto aspects already, from the existence of Yokai and Kami to the various interacts people have with the world.

Since the body is important, it's not too far a stretch to assume the continued themes of religion and the body are going to continue through the rest of the series.

While it may not be as overt as Okarun attempting to get the rest of his genitalia back, it's still likely to appear as a major plot point.

Hence, the potential implications of "dandadan"

I could be remembering wrong, but I believe at one point Count Saint Germain even asked someone if they knew the meaning of the word, which implies it may be crucial to his current purpose in the story

We already know there's a large group of aliens who want to steal the yokai and Kami abilities so they can take over Earth and colonize more planets, and many are looking into ways of stealing them.

With the introduction of Kouki and people's powers being able to be stolen from a direct injury, we can reason that the current goal is for the aliens to find a way to get more people's powers to be then transfered to themselves.

If we go under the assumption dandadan is the gradual bleeding over of powers and/or merging of aura to where it allows a human to gain more supernatural powers they wouldn't have otherwise, it makes sense that Count Saint Germain and/or the invading aliens are attempting to find a way to utilize this ability

Of course this could be completely wrong, but it's been rotating in my brain for a while. Wanted to get it out there somewhere lol

[emmyrosee]

Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.

It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.

You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.

Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.

You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.

It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.

He doesn’t like that feeling.

But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.

And you haven’t given him one in days.

He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 

“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”

He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.

As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.

He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.

He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.

When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.

“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.

With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.

“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”

He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.

There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.

“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”

That. That, he could get used to.

He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.

But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.

“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.

Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.

You call him your man.

Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.

And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.

[9toji]

Can u do make up seggx please (and with a wholesome aftercare with a lot of apologizing) 😭😭😭 with either toji nanami megumi getooo !!! <33 ty

I really love ur works btw 💗

A UNIQUE FORM OF SORRIES + toji, geto

tags ; nsfw, mean doms turned soft, they're so sorry for mistreating you, toji's position is mating press, while geto's is missionary, cockwarming (toji), mentions of wanting a child (toji), tons of sweet words thrown and aftercare is sweet, not fuck but making love, sweet kinda segsy time

rina's comments ; OFC ANON <3 thamks so much for the kind words!! i hope u likey likey this!! ill make a part 2 for nanamin and megumin

toji

he was such a big meanie earlier that day, avoiding you because he was in a pensive mood. almost screamed at you but after seein' you almost cry, he goes soft and he says sorry.. by fucking you

“let me make you feel better, sweet thing.” he groans, his huge figure was hovering over you. cock buried deep, stretching you out with ease as he bottomed out. toji's tongue was lapping up your neck, “ 'm sorry, feels good.. huh?” he chuckles after hearing you whine out, one of his hands was placed under your head so that two of you stared at each other while he pounded into you.

toji rarely treated you with this much softness n care so you buried your head in the crook of his neck, blushing. he notices this and makes you look at him, gentle fingers squeezing your cheeks so you two can maintain eye contact, “wanna see your face when i make ya feel good baby, forgive me, hm?” he coos, smiling at the way you purse your lips, “you know ya love me.”

his thrusts aren't what you're used to, they're slow and sensual, making sure to hit those sweet spots just right that it makes you go dumb and dizzy for him, he cradles you in his arms with care till both of you reach your high, toji doesn't pull out though. he has his dick lay inside you, softening as the base gets coated with your cum.

you giggle into his warm and bear-like embrace, watching him kiss your body all over. from your cheeks to your shoulders, to your wrists and palms. “love all of this, you're the only one f'me.. gonna have my babies soon, don't get so mad baby. still need to marry you and make you have my babies, okay?”

geto

you two had a major disagreement that lasted weeks, geto avoided you like the plague and gave you the silent treatment. but not until he saw you sobbing, his heart aching for you so he places a warm kiss, that ends up in something more

“missed you baby, there you are.” he breathes, kissing your nose as he thrusts into you. geto's hands were on either side of you, and your legs were dangling off his forearms. geto groans every time you pull on his locks, and he fakes a sad expression when you mumble, “hate you suguru.” “but i love you more.”

your eyes droop and he taps your cheeks, “watch me make love to you baby, see how much i missed lovin' you. so so sorry, what else can i do for my baby, hm?” he asks softly, brushing off the sweaty strands of hair that covered your face. geto definitely felt bad, n you could tell by the way he talks to you.

normally, he would hiss and spit of how much of a whore you were; prompting you to bend over. but now, he was staring into your eyes, nodding everytime you showed signs of pleasure, “like it baby? mm, yeah.”suguru grins, watching you twitch after you reach your high, pulling out and asking politely if you could sit on his lap, rubbing warm circles on your back as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, “i love you, so much. nothin's gonna pull us apart.” suguru swears, kissing your forehead.

he keeps whispering into your ear, making you feel a little sleepy. his eyes soften at the sight and he kisses you once more before he hugs you tight, “love you baby.” he mumbles, falling asleep alongside you.

[kiddiewrites]

Command Me To Be Well pt.2

I'm so sorry I took this long to post, I had to make modifications and still this part is not proof read :'D So if there's

This is part 2 to the “Command Me To Be Well” fic, i wanted a happy ending but it was going to go two ways with this one, either I rushed the ending or I stretched the angst a bit for maximum relief and fluff in the end, I want to do a “sunshine after a storm” kind of fic

The text in italics are memories, mostly from the boy's pov but there are (y/n)’s too :D

Angst, T.F.141 x reader, Platonic!T.F.141 x reader, HURT, bit of OOC T.F. 141, pining!reader, extension of the angst, Injured TF141, MAJOR injuries, late night confessions, Poly!141, fluff, bit of relief.

PART 1

∞ Happier Than Ever ∞

“I don’t relate to you, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty”

As it turns out, transfers among the task force without a valid reason were not easy to pull off, Laswell very much told you so when you tried to apply for a unit on the other side of the country.

So the next few days were full of awkwardness between you and the rest of the unit, not for lack of trying from the boys, except for Ghost, barely managing two words to you before you turned away from them, under the excuse of files that needed reviewing or soldiers that needed patching up.

Speaking of which, the other soldiers noticed a shift in your dynamic and even under no fault of their own taking the brunt of it, mainly in the shape of a monstruos training program led by a very much pissed off Lt. “Ghost” Riley. It was almost a common occurrence from the last few days that soldiers arrived exhausted at the med bay with dizzy spells or injured ankles or even passed out from exhaustion. Desperate for some sort of relief in their “punishment” some of them tried to convince you to go to the training grounds and have a talk with him so that maybe he could tone it down out of concern for their fiscal health. You refused. Not because you didn’t think they deserved it or something like that, but because of the glares he had been sending to you since that day. 

The Death Stare, is what the soldiers called it. Even the mention of your name would get the poor soldiers under a heavy gaze full of hate, needles to say when you tried to speak to him regarding injuries or his medical history he would just turn away not before looking at you like he wanted to murder you.

Johnny tried his hardest not to look at the spot in the dining hall where you used to sit on your breaks, a task that he couldn’t really manage to accomplish due to the weight of guilt that hung heavy on his shoulders since that day, the words you spoke replaying in his head like a nightmare.

- I know I’m pathetic to you, I know that you think I’m… how you put it, Sergeant MacTavish?- At the mention of his name he looked up at you - “so fucking annoying”, I think was the term used.- 

He tried to apologize over and over again but you always shut him down, not giving an inch. Out of pride or hatred he couldn't tell but … your eyes… your sad (e/c) eyes adorned with heavy dark circles under them, made the regret multiply.

-Don’t sweat it, Sergeant, let’s just don’t let it affect our work- you’d say with a tight lip smile and a tired sigh. 

But that was just it, it may not affect you but it sure affected him… more than he cared to admit, he never thought that he’d miss your shining eyes and blushing cheeks, that he’d miss your shy giggles and the way you’d follow him around base with a box of cookies or a bag of gummy bears that you’d share. Oh, how he regretted every word that came out of his mouth that night but by all the Gods above, he would fix it. He was a stubborn one after all. 

Kyle was a bit harder to read, for such a calm and collected man he was feeling like shit. But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you, not like Johnny or the captain tried to. He tried a more “actions over words” type of approach, trying to make sure you’d still take care of yourself and if you noticed it you didn’t say anything. In all honesty, he was about to give up, until one night where he stayed up late. It had been a rather slow day and he tried to catch up on his reading before they were inevitably deployed. He sat in a corner of the hardly used couch in the break room and there he stayed for a few hours until it was dark out, the clock reading almost 2am when he averted his gaze off of the pages. Setting the book aside, he stood up and stretched, a few joints popping while doing so. Recovering his book, he left the break room and headed for his dormitory. On the way back his mind drifted back to you and the way you always seemed to have the utmost care when patching him up, the way your brows would frown in concentration and your lips seemed to purse a bit. He remembered the time they came back from a mission, Kyle sporting a huge gash to his side and almost passing out when they landed. He remembers your voice, reassuring him he would be okay and giving instructions to the nurses who worked with you. He passed out but when he woke up there you were, still checking in on him.

The sun shone in his face, stinging his eyes when he tried to open them, the beeping of the heart monitor ringing in his ears and the distinctive smell of the med bay seeping into his nose. He groaned trying to get up, only to be stopped by your gentle hand guiding him back down. 

-Easy there, Sarge. You took a nasty cut to your side and lost a lot of blood, you’re lucky it didn’t go any deeper otherwise I don’t know if you’d been able to make it.- His eyes opened completely  and focused on your form standing next to his bed, with a gentle smile and tired eyes, no doubt from staying up all night saving him. With the sun giving you a different glow, he thought you looked almost angelical.

-It was a bit of a challenge to get the boys off of your side, I think Ghost threatened me when we took you to surgery.- you said with a small smile and a knowing look. 

-Something about framing me with murder of a ranking officer if I didn’t save you- you took a step back to check on his vitals in the monitor.

-I…-  He croaked, the lack of lubrication in his throat making it difficult to speak- I thou’ I was a goner fo’ sure- The reality sinking in once he was completely awake, the thought of not seeing the boys again forming a few tears in his eyes, you didn’t comment on them and he was grateful.

-Don’t worry, Kyle.- You said as you approached him and placed your hand in his arm, his name falling from your lips with such care that he felt a blush creeping up to his cheeks and looked away from you. 

-I won’t let you die on me, not when you need to go home- 

It was the way you said it, so gentle and reassuring. Letting a few tears escape, he felt your hand retreating and heard you moving around the room. It wasn’t until he heard the door open and your voice calling for the captain that he let the tears slowly and silently flow. 

-Captain, you can come in now, he’s awake.- Next thing he knew rough hands were cupping his face and turning his head, he saw the captain… no… not the captain, this was John he was seeing. Worried features and red puffy eyes. THAT  was John.

-You ok there, sarge?- his voice dripping with relief and fondness. Kyle stayed silent but gave a gentle nod. He soon heard other footsteps and turning to the door he saw Johnny and Simon, they approached with care. Johnny with a wide smile at seeing him alive and Simon with relief in his eyes, the baclava obscuring his face but they knew. Oh they knew their Lieutenant. 

- I’ll give you a moment, if you need me I’ll be right outside- your voice was soft but caring. Neither of them turned your way, except for the captain who turned back to you.

-Thanks Doc- he said with a tiny smile, at this yours grew a bit wider.

-Of course, cap- and with that you exited  the room, leaving the boys together to process what happened.

The memory brought a small smile to his face and he subconsciously reached for his side, where the now scar was. As he approached the barracks he walked by the med bay, where he saw that the light was on. He peeked through the small window and found you asleep over a few files, with a small smile and realizing a tiny sigh he walked in. Thanks to his years of service and the ability to walk almost imperceptibly helped him at the moment, very carefully he picked the throw blanket you had in one of the chairs before your desk and placed it on your shoulders. He heard you release a small sigh of relief and at that he let out a small chuckle. 

-Hav’ ye always been this hard’eaded?- he said in a low tone, trying his hardest not to wake you.

-We’re really sorry ya’ know?- He said it in a whisper, he didn’t really expect you to answer him, the way your chest was rising and falling made it clear that you were not conscious. 

He went for the exit and shot you a last glance before he left just as quietly as he entered. 

-I know- just a whisper… but he heard it, a small smile making its way to his lips.

-Goodnight, Doc- and so he left with a slightly better heart and in a better mood. 

“You made me hate this city”

Things seemed to be looking a bit better, at least you weren't entirely avoiding them now. 

And so, Soap saw his opportunity one morning and decided to talk things out with you.

There he stood with a little bag of pastries and a cup holder with two coffees, he had a whole speech prepared for this moment. But the moment he stood in front of your office door, he just couldn’t move. 

You could hear the shifting of his feet on the outside of your door, it had been a few days since he last tried to speak with you so you decided to take the next step, literally. 

You stood up from your desk and headed for the door, you opened it just as he was about to knock.

It is a funny sight, to see a man of his stature and build look like he was caught red handed, which he was. 

-Hiya there, sarge- And oh how he missed it the way your little smirk would accompany the way your head tilted a bit to your side as you looked up at him, it made him feel things, needy things. 

-Hiya the’e, doc- he said in a low voice and a small smile, he looked at you as if it was the first time he ever did, your hair pushed back with a headband letting him see your pretty (e/c) eyes. 

-May I com’ in, doc? I brou’ coffee and thos’ pastrees ye lik’ so much- It was the most gentle you ever heard him talk and it was heartwarming and really how couldn’t you say no to chocolate spread pastries and warm coffee.

-Come in, then.- You stepped to the side and he let himself in. 

You watched him for a bit before closing the door and making your way to the desk. 

You took a seat on your chair and signaled him to sit down, you cleared the few files that were littered across the desk so he could set the coffees and the pastries down. After everything was settled he reached over the desk to pass you your coffee, which you took from his hand accidentally brushing your fingers with his, you felt a little blush come up to your face. He sat back with a little smirk at your blushing face and sipped on his cup. You stayed there relishing in the silence and just looked at him, only to find him already looking at you. His beautiful blue eyes just staring back at yours, a little fondness to them but also with something else. Something that you really couldn’t figure out yet but had your stomach do a little flip. You stayed there for a few minutes just looking at each other, you couldn't help to release a little chuckle at the softness of it all. As if he’d never almost pinned you to your desk in a fight that day. 

-Some’in on yer min’, doc?- he said with a teasing tone, one that had you looking down at your desk to try and avoid his piercing eyes. 

As you looked up once again, you asked the question floating in your mind ever since he came in.

-Why are you here, John?- You’d never called him that, but it felt kinda nice saying his actual name. It felt good. 

-Shit, doc. I ain’ been call’d like tha’ since my ma was royaley pissd off at me.- The biggest grin plastered on his face as he said it, quickly changing to a light smile as he saw your gentle serious one. 

-I came t’ apologize, doc.- He looked down at his lap, not really wanting to meet your eye.

- I actet like a fecknig fool, I knew from the baggining you tried to geta long, but I jus…, I guess I realey couldn’ and wouldn’ want ta let ya in cos…- he went quiet, there was something else he wanted to say but saying out loud was a bit more difficult than he care to admit. 

-Johnny, it’s ok- His eyes shot up at you and he could see the smile on your face, a genuine forgiving smile. One that he would hold on to, even when he went onto the darkest of places. 

-I must admit I may have come on a bit too strongly and first, I know it could sometimes be a problem.- The sincerity in your voice was not lost to Johnny, almost as if this wasn’t the first time you had this conversation.

-And uhm, it’s not that I was mad at you for being annoyed with me.- At this Johnny frowned in confusion.

-Then… wa’ was it?- He was genuinely at a loss, he couldn’t really figure out what it was. 

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, watching him furrow his brows and tilt his head to the side was cute, like a puppy. 

So you took a deep breath and said it… What was bothering you…

-It’s ‘cause you didn’t tell me from the beginning- His eyes were focused on you, your giggle sounded really cute but the reason behind it wasn’t something he expected.

-You’re not the first nor the last to say those things about me- His eyes widened and he felt the guilt starting to form in his chest

.-I…I’m sorry, doc…- He felt the shame rising in his chest along with something else, a tiny rage, a sense of protection coming over his entire self.

-You don’t have to worry about it, Sarge- Your smile was disarming, the genuine forgiveness coming in waves taking a hold in his heart. 

Blushing he smiled back and oh god, what a beautiful smile. All boyish and charming he looked so pretty… so you blushed.

-So, Sarge… wanna take the first bite?- The sly smirk and your low voice sent a tingle of excitement down his spine. 

-Ahh…I.. Eh yea’ yea’- his brain short circuited but it felt amazing, he reached for the chocolatey pastry and smiled.

You’ll be the end of him

“And I don’t talk shit about you…”

Something Price always found amusing was the way Simon would find “refuge” in his office when he didn’t want to deal with… anything really.

He would sit down in a chair, fold his arms and sulk, just staring at the wall and huffing.

First time he did it, Price tried to talk to him and all he got was grunts and hums. By the fifth time he sulked in his office, he just let him stay there for the afternoon and only addressed him after he finished his paperwork. Leaning back in his chair he stretched out and felt the satisfying pop of his back and arms.

He turned to look at Simon, who already seemed to be looking at him, a gleam of hunger in his eyes.

-Interested in a drink, Lieutenant?- He asked with a slight smirk and a tilt of his head, a soft satisfied growl was heard from the giant man as he stood up and made his way to the captain’s desk.

-I take any’hing ye give me… sir.- his seductive voice was muffled a bit by the baclava adorning his face but the tone was enough for Price to feel the effects of it in the most intimate part of his soul.

-Careful, Lt.- His eyes scanned the form of his second in command and found himself a bit hot under his uniform. The way that only a few words were affecting him made it so hard to resist, Simon knew exactly what to do and say to push his captain’s buttons and make him feel just the way he wanted to.

-Ye know we can’t be doin thi’ ‘ere- his voice was gruff and low and oh so inviting, his words were one thing but his body… it said something else entirely. 

-I den’ see ya resistin’- Simon caressed John’s face in a gentle manner, it was so gentle and so warm that he couldn’t help but lean into his hand. 

-Lieutenant, please.- His eyes closed and felt Simon settling into his lap, instinctively he wrapped his arms as much as he could over his wide hips helping his second in command to adjust to the size, when he opened his eyes he swears he felt something stir in his stomach, it was as if he saw them for the first time. The deep blue connecting with his in a very gentle and beautiful manner.

The intimate moment was held for a few minutes, relishing  in the silence where they stayed for a few more minutes trying to forget everything that had occurred for the last week. 

“Never told anyone, anything bad…”

The rising and falling of the captain’s chest was steady, however breathing was a bit difficult given the tattooed arm that rested across it, he turned his head to watch at the giant man that stayed with him all through the night. The silence was broken by the sound of the telephone ringing had the captain stood up from the bed to answer it, being a difficult task due to the insanely quick reflexes of the lieutenant, as carefully as he could he removed Simon’s arm and stood up to receive the call.

In the quiet of the morning Simon stirred in his sleep, he stretched his arm trying to find the warmth of the captain instead finding cold sheets he bolted right up, as he stood up, the captain came out of the bathroom with a towel draped around his hips.  He sat down in the bed, and caressed Simon's  hair while he informed him of their next assignment, one that would require you on the field since it would be a rather long deployment, “almost a month long assignment” he was told. So they couldn’t afford to bleed out while waiting for their extraction.

The growl that came from Simon’s throat was a dangerous one, he still hadn’t completely forgiven you for shoving Johnny, the rage stirring in his stomach at the thought of that day. 

-Ye’ know tha’ ye hav’ to get along with ‘er, ‘ight?- John tried everything he could for the past week to get you too to maybe bond a bit, but it was a tough task. He had been rude and you hadn’t backed down either, for every rude comment he made you responded with an equally cold and spiteful one. 

He didn’t like the idea of you joining in but… orders are orders. 

- Yes captain- 

And so one cloudy cold day with a medical bag strapped to your back you boarded the plane with your squad ready to be deployed. Not knowing what came ahead.

Tagging (If you'd like to be added to the taglist please comment here :D) : @blackhawkfanatic - @beebeechaos - @d3vils-adv0c8 @azkza - @asherwesley - @praying-for-the-sun @xbubbleduckx - @blepleaxelotle

[sherewrytes]

T. A. R (Time, Appreciation, Respect)

(I'll always want you part 2)

Synopsis: Ony was calling Y/N constantly these days, trying to always reach out to talk and say his piece. Y/N wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

C.W. Angst, Black coded reader, Drug use (weed). Song links used as reference.

Fanfic inspired by the following song.

Solange: Cranes in the sky

Link for part one here

Time had passed since your confrontation with Ony on that fateful night. The sting of betrayal still lingered, casting a shadow over your every thought and action. You still find herself unable to shake the memories of everything that took place between you and Ony and the raw emotions it had unleashed.

It's 2:30 AM. You lie awake, replaying the conversation with Ony in your mind. A part of you acknowledges he may be right, yet you find it impossible to converse without being overwhelmed by emotions.

You heard Annie out on her part to play in all this but not Ony. You didn't have class until 2pm today so you had enough time to sleep some more if needed. You got out of bed, stretched, went to your desk to journal to clear your mind.

You lit the candle on your desk, opened your journal and poured your feelings into it. The pen felt heavy in your hand, similar to how your heart felt in your chest. You wrote about the confusion swirling within you, torn between the logic of Ony's words and the ache of betrayal that still lingered deep within your soul. Memories flashed through your mind of happier times, of sad times and every moment in between. You knew you should hear him out but, you couldn't decide if you were ready or not.

You closed the journal and texted Sasha to see if she was awake. You needed someone to talk to. Sasha responded almost immediately saying she's in the area, so she'd be over in a few and she has Connie and Eren with her.

You sighed and responded. You went to your kitchen to make a quick midnight snack for you and your quests. 15 mins later, at your apartment is Sasha, Connie and Eren.

Connie: "Is it okay if I smoke in here. Between Uni, my music shit and other shit. I'm stressed out."

You: "It's cool. I do smoke sometimes, well used to with Ony. Speaking of Ony. He's been calling my phone nonstop.

*Turns to Eren* He said you've been on his ass about me. Eren the fuck you on boy.

Eren sighed "Look I'm just looking out for him. Ony is taking this harder that I've seen him take anything. Him and I go way back. Ony only shows up to class, messages me for some weed well hella weed. He aint even in the studio much either."

You knew Eren, Connie, Mikasa and Ony were music majors at Paradis University which you all attended. Eren was the lowkey producer type that makes beats to rival the greats. Connie is a rising hip hop artist and Ony is a cross between Trap Soul and Rap. Mikasa was the soulful girl with a beautiful voice. You knew Ony never missed studio time for nothing, so you knew he was struggling.

"When last did he show up." Y/N asked Eren with some concern in her tone.

"Probably 2 months ago before that it was 3 months before that. Look you don't have to force yourself to talk to him or bear his wounds or help him heal from the mess he made on his own. It ain't your job to, What I'm asking is if you can hear him out even if its 5 minutes if you can't then Imma tell him to drop it."

You sat in silence for a bit truly wondering what to do, so you turned to Sasha. "Honestly I want to hear him out, I do but I need more time. I know everyone thinks I forgave Annie so easy, but Ony and I had something deeper than Annie and I had even with our years of friendship. Ya we were fighting and at odds that time but..I know I'm being dumb cause Annie is just as responsible as he was. I just need to clear my head some more."

Connie took a toke of his joint and passed it to Eren then Eren to Sasha. Sasha pulled out her phone and connected it to the speakers in your apartment and started playing L.E.S by Childish Gambino. They all passed the joint around the room you took a few hits here and there. Eren was mindlessly scrolling through his IG to see Ony posted a 15 sec video on IG with a link in the caption to his YouTube to his latest track Amphetamine.

Eren blurted out with a bit of shock, "What the fuck, Ony just dropped a new song. It looks like he changed his artist's name from Ony to Soro. I mean he mentioned the change last time he came in the studio. Yo Sasha disconnect real quick lemme listen to this real quick."

Sasha disconnected her phone to allow Eren to pull up the track. " The song is almost 8 mins WTF is Ony on" Eren says.

The beat kicks in with this smooth, laid-back vibe that immediately hooks you in. Everyone's silent giving the track a listen.

" It's like an amphetamine, how it marinate on my mind (stuck on me, yah) Got no doubt I'll be alright, if I just make it through the night."

You can hear, almost feel the range of emotions in the song. You can hear Ony's voice pouring out his feelings. The beat changes around 2:48 seconds in giving a whole different vibe to the song.

"Shawty cold as December, I still fold her, no Manila B-b-b-brr wit me baby, I hibernate, smoke the lettuce."

Everyone was vibing with the song until they heard Mikasa's voice drop on the track around 4:28 Everyone a bit surprised since Mikasa doesn't easily do features even if it's with her friends. Connie laughed a bit "He got Mikasa on this with him. Damn he really went all out. Aye Eren aint this the same beat he said he didn't want around 5 maybe 6 months ago?" Eren laughed thinking back to when he played this beat for Ony, and he said he hated it. Ony owed him big time for this, but he'll circle back to it. As the song finished. You sat with your eyes full of tears. You thought to yourself that you could feel every emotion Ony sang about in the song. The loss of their relationship, his struggles with his mental health and so much more.

Connie was the first the chime in when the song ended "Damn that was.... deep." "Yah it was Ony really flipped the script on this one." Eren chimed in.

Eren got a notification that Ony was live on IG. He clicked on it. He saw he was talking about his just dropped song and other usual shit that's going on in his life.

Ony's eyes were the newfound usual shade of slight bloodshot red from smoking and hardly any sleep. He was reading off a comment asking him who inspired him to write the song. he responded with "Someone but also no one."

Ony's voice flowed through the speakers in your apartment causing Eren to disconnect his phone to watch the live a bit easier.

He commented saying "Fire track man, wish you'd let me know you were droppin a song man."

Ony read the comment out loud and smirked and said "Sorry man. I wanted it to be a personal project, but I owe you one big time for the beat."

Ony and Eren were engaging in their usual banter in the comments of Ony's Instagram live. You were deep in thought when Ony read aloud a comment from someone claiming his song was inspired by his ex-girlfriend. Ony and you had a semi-public relationship, which is due to his rising fame as a Trap Soul/rap artist.

Ony sighed, his mind drifting back to the last time he saw you in person, when you came to return his belongings from your place. He had seen you around campus since then, but it simply wasn't the same. His response was "It was inspired by pain. Pain of loss, loss of love, loss of hopes, loss of dreams. Loss of self. She's part of something I lost in my life."

Ony paused, his gaze drifting off as he recalled the bittersweet memories. He took a deep breath, trying to push away the ache in his chest as he continued, his voice laden with emotion. "So yeah, she's part of what I lost, but 'Amphetamine' is also about finding myself again. It's about reclaiming my voice, my truth, and pouring it all out into my music."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though sadness lingered in his eyes. "Maybe one day she'll hear this song and understand. Understand that she's not just a memory, but a muse who ignited something within me, something I'll carry with me forever."

With that, Ony concluded, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. The live disconnected indicating he ended it abruptly.

As the live session ends abruptly, the room falls into a heavy silence. You, sits with a mix of emotions swirling within yourself. Ony's words echo in your mind, resonating deeply with your own conflicted feelings. You can't shake the sense of nostalgia and longing that his music and words evoke. Sasha breaks the silence, her voice soft yet determined. "Y/N, are you okay?" she asks, her concern evident.

You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "I don't know, Sasha," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sasha nods understandingly, her eyes reflecting empathy. "I get it. It's hard to hear someone express their pain so openly, especially when it's intertwined with your own." Eren chimes in, his tone reflective. "Yeah, but maybe that's what he needs right now. It's better than him bottling it up and tryna smoke it all away."

Connie exhales a puff of smoke, his expression contemplative. "True, but it's also a lot to unpack. Y/N, you don't have to rush into anything. Take your time to process everything, to figure out what you need and want. What Ony did was messed up"

You nod, grateful for your friends' support. "Thanks, guys. I think…I think I need some time alone to sort through my thoughts."

With that que, Eren, Sasha and Connie left your apartment. you walk through your apartment heading to your room, the melody of Ony's song still echoing in your mind. Your emotions even more confusing than when you talked to Ony earlier. You looked at the time. It was almost 5 am. You decided to shower and head back to bed, hoping to get some rest before class.

Your mind was restless, torn between Ony's latest track and his words during the IG live, you were conflicted. On one hand, you acknowledged missing him, but on the other, infidelity was something you could never condone in a relationship. You recognized a desire to listen to his explanation, yet you feared your heart might not endure his version of the events.

The weight of Ony's words hangs heavy in the air, suffocating your mind with intense thoughts. Alone amidst the dim glow of your bedside lamp, the words "Maybe one day she'll hear this song and understand." taunt you with the possibility of reconciliation and closure. You thought to yourself "How could I ever hope to understand the depths of his pain when my own wounds still bleed with the memory of his betrayal?"

Finally entering your room, you sink onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in trembling hands, desperate to silence the cacophony of thoughts threatening to consume you.

"Take your time to process everything, to figure out what you need and want." Connie's words echo faintly in her mind. With a trembling sigh, you rise from the bed, your steps faltering as you make your way to the bathroom. The steady stream of water cascades over your trembling form, washing away the tears that stain your cheeks.

"It's 5 am. I should try to get some rest before class," you think to yourself. Climbing out of the shower, your limbs feel heavy. Wrapping yourself in a towel, the fabric offers a feeble shield against the lingering chill. You dress slowly, abandoning your usual routine for the simple comfort of bed, seeking to calm your mind. Eventually, you drift into sleep, the confusion in your heart, perhaps even greater than before.

*Slight Time Skip*

You finished up her class for the evening, your Textile Science class drained your mind. you run into Eren, Connie, Armin and Pieck in the courtyard chattin it up.

"Yo, Y/N!" Armin hollered, his grin wide as he motioned for her to come over. You gave a small nod, casually strolling over as they kept chattin'. It helped take your mind off things for a sec.

"So, y'all ready for tonight?" Armin asked, his eyes sparklin' with excitement. "Tonight?" you echoed, feeling a bit lost.

Armin leaned in closer, speakin' low like it was a secret. "The party, It's goin' down at my place. everybody's rolling through." You thought about if Ony was gonna be there since going Armin's parties was one of their go to things as a couple.

You shifted uncomfortably, tryna come up with an excuse to bail but before you could say anythin', Sasha and Mikasa slid through, bringin' a burst of energy to the scene. "Hey, y'all!" Sasha greeted; her smile infectious as she pulled you into a hug.

Mikasa gave a nod, her expression serious as she peeped Y/N with concern.

"Y/N, you gotta come through tonight," Pieck chimed in, her voice smooth and persuasive. "You never show up to the parties, and it's gonna be lit." Y/N hesitated, caught between the comfort of being alone and the fear of missing out on the squad's vibe.

Just then, Ony strolled past, casting a shadow over Y/N's mood. She felt a surge of anger bubbling up inside, memories of their messy situation flooding back.

Armin, clueless as ever, turned to Ony with a hopeful grin. "Yo, you coming tonight, Ony?"

Ony glanced at you for a sec before turning back to Armin, his face unreadable. But before he could answer, you spoke up with fire in your voice. "I ain't showing if he's gonna be there," you stated, pointing your finger at Ony with a fierce look.

The air got heavy; the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/N's heart raced as she waited for Ony's response. But instead of coming back at you, Ony just nodded quietly, his eyes holding a hint of regret before he dipped out.

You caught the concerned glances of your friends. You knew your emotions were a bit confusing being torn between wanting to hear him out, missing him then not wanting to be around him. Even though almost much time had passed, her emotions still felt raw.

You looked around to your friend group who was gauging your reaction to seeing Ony. Each stare, felt like a trap a push to make a decision you weren't ready for.

"I can't do this," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you took a step back, your eyes darting between your friends and a mental escape route. Sasha's hand on your arm stopped you in your tracks, her grip firm yet gentle. "You can't run from this forever, Y/N, you're gonna have to address this or find the will to move on" she said softly, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding. You stared at Sasha's face trying to gauge her facial expression and reaction "I know, Sash I know." you whispered hoarsely, your voice cracking with emotion. "But I'm not ready to face him, not yet. I don't know if I ever will be."

With that said you turned and left them there, briskly walking back to catch an uber back to your apartment.

----------------------------While you left-----------------------------------

Eren stared at Armin, scoffing with annoyance "Bro, how you gonna forget they ain't together no more? Ony straight up did her dirty with Annie."

Armin sighed and took a step back. "I know but they're both my friends and I want them both to be happy and come out more. guess I messed up by asking them out around each other. It's just that we hardly get to chill with both of them around, you know...it's tough."

Eren shook his head, his frustration evident in his furrowed brow. "I get that, Armin, but you gotta realize it's not just about them being happy. Ony really hurt Y/N, man. And seeing him around just brings back all that pain."

Armin's shoulders slumped in defeat, his expression reflecting the weight of his guilt. "I know, Eren, I know," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I just... I don't know how to fix this mess."

Sasha, who had been listening quietly, spoke up with a sympathetic tone. "Maybe there's no quick fix, Armin. Sometimes all we can do is give them space and time to heal, you know?"

Connie nodded in agreement, his expression serious. "Yeah, sometimes the best thing we can do is just be there for them when they're ready to talk or when they need us."

Armin sighed; his gaze heavy with regret. "You're right," he admitted, a sense of resignation settling over him. "I just hope they both find their way through this, somehow."

Previous Next

[queenofthepirates83]

POOKIE! Can you pretty pretty please make me one with pyramid head from silent Hill? (😔🤞🏻) LOVE: Your best friend jazzy🤭

I got you booboo bear 💪😣

Pyramid head x reader

Tag: Drabble, one-shot, smut

TW: you die in the end, female anatomy implied, slight BDSM(if being held together by hands count), breeding, belly bulge, ALL CONSENSUAL, I made him bigger than he actually is 🤷‍♀️, tell me if I missed anything <3

Words: 680

A/N: it’s not too detailed, I just mainly gave the gist. Please don’t judge 😣🙏 this is my first smut fic

You wandered into Silent Hill after your car had broken down. You weren’t sure why, everything seemed fine, it just broke down.

Anyway, you began walking through the quiet town, glancing around, trying to find somebody. And nothing.

The town was empty, to your eyes at least.

You couldn’t help but have this nagging feeling that something was watching you. You felt a pair of eyes on you. Or what you assumed was eyes.

You turned to find what you could only describe as a…..pyramid…? A pyramid head. He had a pyramid…as a head…

You began screaming, of course, like any natural human would.

You never would have thought that wandering into this town would’ve gotten you bent in half by the much larger hands of a man with a pyramid head. Throughout the interaction you referred to him as Pyramid Head. At least you would’ve if your mind wasn’t so clouded by the fact a dick; much much much larger than any others you have ever had inside to you, was completely splitting you in half.

As you wandered through the town, you looked around, searching for any sort of life. Literally anything. Yet…nothing. Typical.

You debated heading back to your car, calling somebody or simply walking back to where you came from.

You would’ve if it was that easy. Now you know it was the safe option to go back to your car, you’ve seen plenty of horror movies…but like every character, you’re simply curious. And there’s no cell service and it’s more than 10 miles to get back to the town you came from.

When you turned around to be face to face with Pyramid Head, you could only ever scream. At the top of your lungs. Of course he shut you up, pushing your jaw close with his finger.

One thing, of course, led to another, now your hands on are on some wall as you’re bent over, only being held up by Pyramid Head’s hand, which was flat on your stomach, the bulge of his cock moving in and out of your pussy, making wet squelches as it did; his dick making a belly bulge, which he could feel.

His other hand was under your jaw, holding it up so you didn’t smack your head against the wall.

You would’ve looked to see the infamous wall I keep mentioning but alas, his dick was going in and out at such a rapid pace that you couldn’t, your eyes rolling so far back into your head you thought they would just roll out soon enough.

You felt another orgasm approaching, stacking onto the multiple others you just had. Once you felt the knot in your stomach tighten more and then suddenly snap, you inhaled a gasp then let out a deep breath as Pyramid Head readjusted you.

He lifted you off the ground just enough to be able to flip you over. He slid back in, quite easily due to all the cum and slick.

His hands held you up, off the ground, his hands easily covering a majority of your waist.

Your head dropped down, your mouth open as you let out screams and moans; your head bobbed back and forth as he thrusted into you along with your legs. You had bent them up, your knees held up by the upper part of his underarm.

He had came a few times, his cum leaking out more and more with every thrust.

Anyway…you continued to scream, getting stretched out by the second. With every new position he put you in, he only reached in further, hitting your g-spot over…and over…and over.

Soon enough you both approached your last orgasm, the knot inside of you tightening and of course snapping. You felt yourself getting even more fuller, like you had other times before when he came.

He pulled out, his cock becoming more softer. He set you on the ground, being careful not to startle you or anything.

He grabbed his big ‘ol sword and plunged it into you, killing you almost immediately.

The end 😧😧

[blackhairedjjun]

second chance encounters

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn!reader | genre / tropes: slight fluff, acquaintances to ???, university -> working adult au, nostalgia & slice of life vibes | word count: 3.6k | warnings: alcohol, some profanity, work-related burnout

summary: it's been a year since you graduated from university, and it always seemed like life had different plans for you and for the resident dance crew heartthrob, choi yeonjun. that is, until you run into him by chance after work.

author's notes: hello! this is one part of a fic idea that has been stirring in my brain for the LONGEST time - i wanted a very slice of life fic about adult life and growing up, and for the longest time i tried over and over to write it. but it was hard especially since it involved such personal feelings and experiences and i wanted to capture it just right. but i managed to get this part out, and once i'm less busy i want to try writing a part 2 too. so here it is, i hope you enjoy!

(support by reblogging banner by @/cafekitsune)

It was nearly midnight when you were finally let go from overtime duties at your job. You walked out of your building and, exhausted from staying up for so long, you plopped down on the curb in front of the entrance. At this hour you should try to get a cab home, but you wanted a moment to rest and regain your bearings first.

Despite the late hour, it wasn’t too dark outside; the streetlamps illuminated the sidewalks, and plenty of other office buildings still had windows with the lights on. Next to your building, a 24-hour convenience store was flooded in fluorescent lighting. Maybe you were lucky to have gotten out before midnight when plenty of others were still staying up. But with your eyelids drooping and your whole body feeling heavier than a slab of rock, calling yourself “lucky” felt like a stretch.

You spent the next few moments letting your attention drift, your eyes fluttering shut. You could still see the spreadsheets swimming in front of your vision, and you could still hear your boss’s voice urging you to keep up with the pace. “We won’t go easy on you just because you’re a junior. In fact, you should be working harder if you want to prove yourself.” 

Work harder... prove myself... The words were in your mind constantly, even when your body protested.

Your eyes snapped open for a moment and you spotted a tall man in a hoodie exiting the convenience store, plastic bag in hand, headed for a nearby parked car. Perhaps it was just your fatigue making you see things, but he looked familiar.

He turned his head in your direction and your eyes met. You watched his own eyes widen in recognition.

“Uh, excuse me一” he approached you, scratching his head, “did you perhaps go to...?”

He mentioned your university’s name.

You blinked and studied his face.

Of course. 

You had spoken to him only a handful of times before, but you still recognized the former captain of your university’s dance crew. Everyone at your major had known him.

“Choi Yeonjun...?”

一

Three years earlier

You swished around the beer in your plastic cup, watching the party scene unfold in front of you. The music blared from someone’s speakers, competing with the loud voices of your fellow university students shouting and laughing over each other, and tipsy students nearly stumbled into one another as they tried to reach the cooler for more drinks. All the while you leaned against the far wall of the common room, taking small sips of your beer, glancing around now and then for a sign of your roommate.

Still nowhere.

She’s probably playing a drinking game with one of her friends, you thought, or in another room making out with that guy from the dance crew. You sighed and drained the last of your beer, but made no move to refill it. The room was full of people you didn’t know or barely knew, their faces vaguely familiar from some common classes you shared with them, and you didn’t have the courage to talk to them. None of them paid you any notice either, instead staying close by the friends they already knew.

You had hoped that your roommate would at least be polite and introduce you to some friends you could stay with, but she had left your side as soon as you both entered the party. You sighed.

Just them a tall man in a baseball cap blocked your view.

He was clearly drunk, from the way his face was flushed red, and blinked a few times at you. You recognized him as a classmate from your literature elective, though you couldn’t remember his name.

“Do I... know you?” he slurred, blinking again. A small spark of hope rose in your chest.

“Yeah, we’re actually一”

He threw his head back and started laughing, nearly dropping the beer bottle he was holding. You tried to speak but he only laughed more. “Ah, what am I saying... who are you... hah...”

Your heart sank.

“Hey, you’re bother 一 you’re bothering them... that’s not nice...”

Another man appeared at your classmate’s side, nudging him. You could he that he was also tipsy from his pink-tinted cheeks and the way he stumbled over his words, but he seemed to have enough sense to stop his friend. He too looked familiar, but you weren’t not sure from where.

“I’m not boooothering,” your drunk classmate whined.

“Heh, okay you’re not... let’s just hang somewhere else...”

He squeezed his drunk friend’s shoulder, which seemed to divert his attention; he turned around to leave the room. The man then turned to look at you and you swore that he was properly looking, not just staring with his eyes glazed over from the alcohol.

“Hi...” He let out a little giggle. Cute. 

“Um... hi?”

“Sorry ‘bout that... we won’t bother you... have fun.”

“It’s okay...”

He stood there for a few moments, smiling at you. It was just a lopsided smile from tipsiness, but you couldn’t help the flutter you felt in your chest.

Then, as if awakened out of nowhere, he snapped to his senses. He waved at you, letting out a shy “bye!”, then turned around to follow his friend. You watched his back as he nearly stumbled over the couch and disappeared into a room at the side, and for the first time that night, you smiled.

It took a few moments, but you finally remembered why that man was so familiar: He was a prodigy member of the dance crew, the one that had won countless competitions against other dance crews from different universities. He was only a sophomore and already he was turning heads. Of all the members of that award-winning roster, he was said to be the best one.

His name, you recalled, was Choi Yeonjun.

一

You sat in the passenger seat of Yeonjun’s car with your hands folded on your lap. A jazz-pop playlist was playing from the car stereo, and you glanced over at your driver, who was humming along and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. His posture was relaxed and he steered with one hand. As the song reached its final chorus, he broke out into full song, singing with such passion that his eyes and nose scrunched up.

Maybe it was a bad idea to accept a car ride from someone you barely knew, but it was certainly a better option than remaining seated and half-asleep on the curb in front of your office building. Besides, you had heard nothing but good things about Yeonjun during your stay in university. You had been classmates with a few dance crew members and they always spoke of him with a tone of admiration.

The song came to an end just as the car stopped at a red light. At this hour, there were hardly any cars on the intersection. Yeonjun turned towards you and smiled.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” he said.

“Me too.” You fought your tiredness to manage a smile.

“It’s so good to see a familiar face. I just moved here a few weeks ago.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head at you and licked his lips, thinking of what to say. “I actually got back from visiting my parents... I had to pick up some of my stuff there to move to my new studio. Then I ended up having dinner with them, walking around, catching up, and well... I was hoping to be home by ten.” 

Your tired smile turned genuine at his story. “That sounds really nice, though. I visited my parents last month, so I get what you mean.”

“Mm, I miss them already.” The traffic light turned green and Yeonjun turned to face the road again; the car cruised past the buildings of the business district, the lights in some of their windows still on. “Hey, how long have you lived here?”

“Less than a year ago, I guess? Pretty much right after graduation. I got a good job offer so I moved here so that the commute would be a bit easier.”

“Yeah, that makes sense... hold on, the building I found you at...”

“Uh-huh?”

“You work at StarOne?”

You sighed. When you had first gotten the job offer, everyone around you had oohed and aahed, throwing compliments and congratulations your way 一 you had gotten a job at one of the biggest, most prestigious companies in the country. You had blushed and beamed at them and replied with Thank you and Oh my god, I’m so excited too. But it hadn’t even been a year since then, and now all you knew were hours of overtime and unhappy clients, rush projects and evaluations where your boss and his boss peeled back your pride layer by layer. You’re doing good, but we didn’t hire you for ‘good’, they would say. We’ve got dozens of other junior officers and even more applicants standing outside our doors, clamoring for the job that you have.

You took a deep breath and prepared yourself for the canned responses you had developed when asked about your job: Yes, I work at StarOne. The pay is fine. The hours are pretty long, I guess. It’s challenging. But at least I work at a good company.

But instead the car reached another red light and Yeonjun turned to look at you and his eyes softened, as if he had seen the exasperation you so often hid. “Oh... overtime?”

You nodded.

“Ah, sorry. You’re probably too tired to talk about work, huh?”

You nodded again.

He blushed and turned away for a moment. Then he reached to the passenger seat behind him, picked up a thick dark blue blanket, and handed it to you. “Ah, my bad, I shouldn’t have asked... Do you want to rest for a bit? You can sleep for the rest of the ride if you want. Don’t worry, the blanket’s clean.”

Your memory stirred and brought forth a moment three years ago, when you had first run into Yeonjun at a party. In your mind you saw the way he had squeezed your old classmate’s shoulder, keeping him from bothering you too much, and the way he had looked at you right after. You remembered feeling seen, as if he regarded you as an old friend.

The way Yeonjun looked at you now, blanket in hand, felt exactly the same.

“Oh... you didn’t have to.”

“Keep it in case you get sleepy.”

You took the blanket from him, his fingertips brushing yours as he handed it over, and unfolded it on your lap. When you looked back at him you couldn’t help the small smile forming on your lips.

“Thank you.”

He made sure to drive a little more slowly after that, but you could still hear him softly humming along to the songs on his playlist. The sound of his voice wrapped around you even more comfortably than the blanket. 

You closed your eyes to let your mind wander. Sleep didn’t come to you, but new thoughts did 一 thoughts of Yeonjun and what you had known about him from university. Though you had barely spoken to him, your social circles did overlap somewhat; you had been classmates with a few dance crew members, and a few of his friends had been in the same major as you. Every time his name was brought up, it was always in a positive light, whether it was him helping out a new dance recruit or inspiring the rest of the dance crew to work harder. Not once had you heard anyone speak ill of him.

Now you understood why.

一

Two years earlier

You watched the rain from the entrance of the campus arts building, its extended roof keeping you and several other students dry. Today the downpour was much better compared to previous days 一 you could actually see ahead of you, for one 一 but it was still bad enough that the endless drumming of the rain on rooftops filled your ears, and the pathway leading out of the building was a blur.

Still, you had a class in ten minutes and Professor Im had not made any announcement of cancellation. The sciences building was a short walk away but you needed all the time you could to get there and dry yourself off. Sighing, you fished your umbrella out of your bag and silently thanked your past self for remembering to pack it this time. With the push of a button (good thing you got one of those automatic ones) the umbrella opened, you held it up, and you hugged your bag more closely around your body to keep it dry. Here you go.

You had barely taken two steps out of the building when someone bumped against your side. Your umbrella shook, causing a few rain droplets to land on your head, but you barely felt them. Not while you were too busy staring in horror at the student who had bumped into you and was now running through the rain, not caring that they were getting soaked to the bone.

“HEY!”

You chased after them, your umbrella swaying as you ran through the pathway, shouting at the student to wait. You were no match for their pace 一 you could see that they had long legs 一 but they finally heard your shouts, slowed down, and turned to look at you.

Oh. Choi Yeonjun.

His hair was wet, with his bangs clinging to his forehead, and his hoodie was so drenched that it had turned from light grey to dark. He was still panting from his sprint and the dampness on his face was a mixture of rainfall and sweat.

You felt your face grow hot. Somehow offering to share an umbrella with someone you kind of knew was more embarrassing than doing it with a total stranger. But you were already here anyway and it seemed rude not to say anything.

“Uh, we can... share...”

You held the umbrella up above your head to accommodate his height and he laughed.

“You don’t have to,” he said. “I’m headed to the gym for dance practice, it might be too far.”

“It’s okay! I’ll take you!”

That was a lie. The gym was in the opposite direction from the science building. But you had perfect attendance in class so far, so you figured that one late mark wasn’t too much of a cost.

Yeonjun giggled and took the umbrella from you. His hands were soft as they brushed against yours. Your whole body felt warm despite the chill from the rain. “I’ll hold it for us then,” he said.

You smiled and moved closer to him. “Thank you.”

“Nah, I should be thanking you. Coach would’ve embarrassed me in front of the whole team for being late. And I told the new members last week not to be late! I would’ve looked like a dummy in front of them.”

He laughed again and you couldn’t help but laugh too. His walking pace was brisk but you didn’t mind, keeping up with him and listening to him talk about his dance practice. A whole other world within the university campus seemed to open up in front of you, one of competitions and prizes and prestige and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears. Yet there was an unmistakable gleam in Yeonjun’s eyes as he talked about the team’s new routine and the higher challenge level for it.

“We’ve only got a week left so we really can’t waste any time,” he said. “So... thank you. This helps a lot, really.”

The two of you were standing in front of the gym entrance. The rain had died down to a drizzle, and he lowered your umbrella. The walk from the arts building had felt like both an eternity and a moment.

You took the umbrella from him and his hands lingered on the handle before he let go.

“See you around,” he said. “Good luck with class.”

“Yeah, see you... good luck with practice.”

Yeonjun turned and sprinted into the gym, and you headed back to find the path to the science building. Not a single worry about being late bothered you, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling.

一

Yeonjun’s GPS led him to a boxy apartment building. It was painted completely white, reflecting the light of a nearby streetlamp, which gave it a sterile glow. He pursed his lips; not the most homey place to live, he mused, but at least it looked well-kept.

He turned to you and found you asleep in the passenger seat, his blanked draped over your shoulders. Your chest rose and fell ever so slightly from your breaths, and your expression was completely calm. There was no trace of the undertones of stress he’d sensed when he had approached you; whatever worries you had about your job seemed to disappear in your dreams. 

Yeonjun lifted a hand to tap your shoulder awake, but he hesitated. A wave of relief overcame him, and for a moment he couldn’t help but admire your serene expression as you slept. You looked so... content. Had he ever seen you look that way? While he had crossed paths with you only a few times, you had always looked as if something was on your mind. He could still see it all in his memories: the loneliness in your posture when he approached you at the party, the nervousness in your eyes when you had offered your umbrella to him. He wondered what worries were always plaguing you, and if anything could be done to keep them away.

At least he had returned the favor for the umbrella incident, he thought. And it only took him two years.

His hand was still hovering over your shoulder when you awoke. You blinked a few times to chase the sleepiness away before turning your head to look at him. A small smile spread across your face and Yeonjun felt a flutter stirring in his chest.

“Are we home...?” Your voice was still hoarse with sleep.

“Just got here.” He smiled. “I can walk you to your door...”

“Mm, okay...”

Your apartment door wasn’t far up, only on the third floor. You had his blanket draped around you like a scarf, and Yeonjun carried your bag for you. He set it down beside your door, its black paint finish contrasting with the white walls, and waited for you to unlock it.

It was only when you pushed the door open that you noticed his blanket around your shoulders. You tugged it off and handed it to him.

“Oh, sorry, I forgot一”

“Keep it.” Then, feeling a little bold, he continued: “You can give it to me the next time we see each other.”

“Next time...?”

His smile faltered. Did you not want to see him again? Was he being too forward? Did he overestimate how much you remembered him? Why did he feel so keen on seeing you again in the first place?

“You don’t 一 you don’t have to.” He reached a hand to take the blanket. “Sorry, I was, I was just...”

But you regained your senses from your nap and beamed at him. The sight of it sent another fluttering feeling through Yeonjun’s chest.

“No, I mean... I was just surprised that you’d want to catch up, that’s all.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I... um. I do want to catch up with you, Yeonjun.”

“Great! Oh shit一” He clasped his hands over his mouth. His voice had come out a little too loud. “I mean, let’s work something out. I can give you my number...”

一

You had been lying in bed for fifteen minutes and you were still awake. You should be trying to sleep for another day of overtime tomorrow, but all you could think about was your drive home with Yeonjun.

You reached for your phone on your nightstand and looked at his contact for the fourth or fifth time since you’d shut the door behind you. He had saved his contact name as “jjunie” with a little fox next to it, and the sight of it made you chuckle.

Did this really happen? You thought of the few times you had run into each other, seemingly at random: his cute little “bye” as he clutched a beer, or his damp hair sticking to his forehead as he held onto your umbrella. His life felt tangential to yours, always passing by you, but never with you. And yet you were holding on to your phone with his number in it and an offer to see each other again.

You laughed again and set the phone down on the bed, on top of the blanket that he had lent you, and rolled to your side. It didn’t matter now, you mused. Old memories gave way to newer ones: his smile as he opened the passenger side of his car for you, his humming to a jazz tune as he waited at the intersection, his soft hands placing the blanket in yours. 

No matter how things had been back then, they were different now. Yeonjun would stick around in your life for a little while. You might even have a friend, and the thought consoled you as you finally drifted off to sleep.

[slothcapsule]

Kaeya's design pt.2 (updated until 5.1 because yes, more stuff gets added with updates, his design is that thought ahead)

or maybe im delusional and looking into things way too much! heyy, Me again!! this is gonna be a master post of all the things ive noticed about kaeya's design, ive made one like it before but since then there's been a bunch of new stuff so i decided to make a new post that has everything i have to note. this is complied of things i myself have noticed and things that others have. this post will not include anything about his skin other than noting a couple of significant differences since the outfit wasn't made specifically for him in the scope of the story, but i might cover it in a separate post

kaeya's design mostly consists of "two sides" in a way, his "mondstat" side and his "khaenri'ah" side.

his mondstadt side includes his vision, the full side of his cape in the back, the earring he wears and his rat tail, all this represents the freedom he has in mondstat and the person he grew to be there, a vision bearing knight of favonius.

the khaenri'ah side includes his eyepatch, the wisp of lighter hair in his bang, a clipped cape ("wing") and the majority of the fur coating. i believe this goes to represent that he's still tied to khaenri'ah despite all the time he's spent in mondstadt, and that he's quite aware of it. Also, the glove on that side has a kind of buckle that kind of reminds me of a shackle or a handcuff, as well as this thing with a bunch of eight pointed stars that are not apparent on the mondstadt

all across his design (the boots, corset belt, gloves, little things on the ends of the cape thing he has, his left sleeve) there are bunch of "eight pointed" stars we see associated with khaenri'ah, one being in his pupil which was a confirmed trait to khaenri'ahn people ever since we saw dainsleif.

id like to note that kaeya's eyepatch is stressed on a lot in game. its constantly referred back to most of the time when kaeya is brought up. he has a voiceline about it (that has been changed once in the english version to to a mistranslation i believe, ill include both versions) the first is the current version.

traveler has a voiceline about it where paimon makes fun of it but i think its notable there's a voiceline specifically about it at all.

its mentioned right when we start the world quest "Bough Keeper" where we meet dainsleif. he doesn't even have an eyepatch half of his face is just black it was a stretch in the first place.

kaeya himself dismisses it as nothing unusual.

in his story quest he says he inherited it from his grandfather, which is solid proof that they're related by blood. (his story quest has some crazy foreshadowing btw that predicted that him and the abyss twin are possibly related in some way or another by extensions but i wont get into it here)

there isnt really a solid idea attached to any of this, other than the fact that kaeya's eyepatch is stressed on as a point of intrigue, its pretty implied to be related to his origin of khaenri'ah, and we often see khaenri'hn people with their right eye covered in some way. and to those of you that think that he wears the eyepatch because diluc injured his eye during his fight, no he isnt. it might've been scarred by him yes but he isnt blind in that eye, and in the webcomic it shows kaeya wearing an eyepatch on the day crepus died, before the fight with diluc.

while we're on the subject of his eyes, he's somewhat of an abnormality amongst Khaenri'ahn people. every other khaenri'ahn person we know have teal eyes with their pupil being a bold black star outline, kaeya's on the other hand are a darker blue with a more faded filled in star. i wont include the eyes of every single character to prove my point but trust me i looked at them all. the only exception seems to be pierro but since he doesnt have an in-game model yet and he wasnt shown super clearly in the trailer im unsure what to make of it for now so i wont include it.

one of the first things generally noticed about kaeya's design once you look into it a little is that he somewhat resembles cryo abyss mages, most notably the fur coat he keeps thrown over his shoulder, the "bunny ears" in his hair (ahoge?) but most of the resemblance comes from playstyle.

in playstyle he's similar in the sense that he teleports on his fifth attack, his ult is similar to the icicles they produce after their shield is broken, he produces his own shield at c4 etc.

(EDIT: i somehow forgot including abyss heralds here, which is insane of me considering that i was always under the impression that if kaeya does turn out to be an abyss monster its definitely more likely to be a herald/lector. i dont necessarily think that he is but there are similarities!)

As for abyss heralds, he does also have a similar design element with the Frost Fall one! Despite being a minor similarity i think its worth pointing out , but they do have kind of similar lapel things, the herald has those wing like things both in the front and back , similar to kaeya's "clipped" wings, that appear under the full wing and in the front of his outfit as well

(fun fact, when i found out they're going to release a cryo abyss herald i was so excited and kept prolonging the fight with it in the quest so i can see if it has similar attack patterns to kaeya) (it does, he does a couple slash attacks that look like kaeya's normal attacks)

one crazy thing also is his cape looks a lot like the top part of the celestial nails and the bottom part of the statues of the seven, and weirdly enough parts of paimons outfits.

a lot of people theorize the log in screen is the enterance to celestia, and that the nails in dragonspine and the chasm are fallen pillars from there. for someone from a godless nation its sort of weird that he seems to have that connection to something celestial huh? this part of the design is also included in his special dish in the skewer itself. (he also marks the mushroom with an eight pointed star as opposed to the x on the regular one)

other than celestian, mondstadtian, khaenri'ahn themes in his outfit, he also has fatui ones! on the front side of the cape we can see that it attaches to a fur thing that covers kaeya's lapels. i have no idea how this attaches or if its just thrown on top, but this design choice is distinctly fatui, weirdly enough. specifically in the style of the attire of the fatui harbingers coats or official ware when they're gathered. i related it distinctly to pierro before but after getting a good look at capitano's model its more fatui, though there's some things that are similar distinctly between kaeya and pierro.

most distinctly, the fur and the lapels being in a very similar shape which is the part that's distinctly fatui, the mask/eyepatch over the right eye as well a strikingly differently colored strand of hair being distinct to pierro and kaeya.

there's a kind of gap in the middle of pierro's chest part of the outfit that somewhat resembles the one kaeya has as well. i saw someone point this out on reddit but i cant find the post because it was a while ago but regardless, they brought up the point of it being exactly in the place and shape of where abyss heralds/black serprent knights have an eight-pointed star, which could be a subtle nudge at khaenri'ah as well.

now, i have two ideas of what those similarities could be hinting at.

kaeya is actually a fatui member (which i believe has some sort of merit because of the recent appearances of capitano and some similarties between them in attire and playstyle weirdly enough, as well as a theory ive been getting behind that states that capitano could be/is related to anfortas alberich)

the fatui harbinger design choices are actually inspired by khaenri'ah, which isnt a stretch given that pierro is the founder and director of the fatui harbingers. thus making them look similar to kaeya rather than vice versa.

panning back up a little bit, regarding the silver hair in kaeya, it seems to be expanding to the rest of his hair, in his skin it goes down the length of his braid.

in the webcomic where we flash back to the past a bit, we see kaeya actually doesnt have the little strand of silver over his left ear, as well as when we return to the normal time setting of the comic, its also not included in his icy featherflight splash art (this 100% could be a stretch on my part they could've just forgot about it its a small strand) (while we're talking about stretches, my biggest one is that childe has a similar streak in his hair lol but that might be going toooo far)

last but not least, his vision, one of the most interesting things about his whole characters. a person from a nation that actively defied the gods recieving a sign of their recognition seems like kind of a threat doesnt it? and its all the more ominous that his vision casing is different from every other mondstadt casing!

this is the back of kaeya's vision next to the back of diluc's vision for comparison, the only notable things are the lack of a third wing probably signifying he's sort of out of place, and the swirl? wave? whatever you wanna call it is on the wrong side. every other character with a double sided vision has the swirl on the other side like jean, diluc, mona, eula, lisa (etc..? i havent seen anyone else with a double sided vision which is also interesting, at least from mond)

however!! weirdly enough, in the 3.8 summer event where kaeya gets his skin, his vision actually gets a different casing, as you can see he gets his full three wings, as well as an extra spike! but not really an extra spike because the vision is just on top of another thing that makes it look like it has a third spike, but the wing is actually there. the genshin fashion archive isnt updated with kaeya's skin so i cant check if there's a swirl, even though the vision isnt even double sided in the skin which is also really weird to me.

im pretty sure ive covered most things, if anyone has any additions please let me know! id love to look into them.

i think kaeya is a really interesting character who's incredibly centered around foreshadowing in the way he carries himself and his backstory, so to think that they managed to extend the foreshadowing bit into even his design is a little bit insane imo.

[strange-dreams-are-made-of-these]

Playing Games With This Old Heart

Summary: You need to make cash fast after losing your job. After stumbling on a job, you can't help but to think about your first customer. And he can't get you out of his head.

Warnings: no smut, no fluff, still MDNI as this will be a planned series, canon typical violence, hints of death of a loved one (prior to story), animal death (bear), angst, Female Mutant!Reader with regenerative healing factor.

A/N: It's been two years since ive poste dont his account, so i hope you guys wont hold that against me. Please take this sample of a fic with our favorite X-Man.

Word Count: 4.7 k words

The days were shifting between the long summer heat and a cooler breeze as the leaves started to change from their usual green and full thick coverings to reds, yellows, and browns before leaving their life-sustaining tree and falling to the ground. There was something subtle about the sound of leaves crunching under ones footstep that somehow felt calming. The ground around your home was littered with the fine needles of the Douglas Fir trees that had a very distinct pine smell to them. It was a welcoming smell for you, having lived the majority of your life in rural Montana, the fresh smell of pine felt like home.

The colorful coat of the Maine Coon cat you owned stood out against the green throw blanket placed on the couch, the place he dubbed his spot. His name was Felix and he had been your fury best friend of nearly six years now. He showed up one day on your doorstep when it was raining with his mother. Not knowing much about cats, but knowing they were hungry, you couldn't help but open the last can of tuna you had in your pantry, draining it of its liquid before setting it out for the mother and son cats to eat. His mother trusted you enough to leave her son with you before leaving, never to be seen again. You often wondered what happened to the little minx of a feline, though you were happy to assure her you could take care of her baby.

"Okay, Felix. I'm going into town. Don't miss me too bad while I'm gone, okay?" You chuckle a little watching him as he stretches out, adjusting your jacket in the process. With keys in hand, wallet in your warm coat, and a fully charged phone, you left your home. Your next-door neighbor was only five miles away, as was his other neighbor. The only thing you had to worry about here were bears, mountain lions, and wolves showing up unannounced during meal times. Thankfully the only time you spotted any of the three was during their migration journeys at quite the distance from your porch to the open land headed out toward the lake where they could get their fill of fresh fish and other small creatures that dwelled there.

You kept your distance, you respected their space, and in turn, they stayed away from you. Just how it should have been.

Hoping into your truck, an old one of your father's, you kick it into gear and leave your driveway. The roads were bumpy as the broken rock and dirt shifted under the weight of the truck, bouncing you a little as you made the drive into town. There were a few things you needed to make it through the week: gasoline, and a refill of your water containers. One was used for cooking and drinking, one was used for bathing, and the third was the backup. Being out in these parts, you had to prepare for the unthinkable. Trees block major routes to give supplies, unpredictable weather, and supply shortages.

Another thing you would have liked to get was a fresh cut of meat for dinner. Depending on what was at the store would determine the dinner in store for you. Grilled fish? sounded nice. A steak could have been as equally nice to eat.

Though, there was another reason for your outing today. Since Mr. Kirkwood had sold his farm, you had been out of a job and had been running low on funds. You had to find a job today, any job. Anything that would provide you cash for hard work to continue to provide for yourself and Felix. Stocking shelves at the only grocery store in town? Perfect! Cutting down trees for the logging company? You're the girl for the job, nevermind you have never cut a vertical tree before, only when they were already grounded.

You just needed any job, one that you can continue to live your life.

--

Parking the truck, you walked to the bed, picking up the water containers, two in one hand and the third in the other. Thankfully there had been a man coming out of the store, seeing your hands full he held it open for you. You thanked him, recognizing him as one of your father's old co-workers. You nodded to each other, letting him go back to his day as you entered the door.

"There she is, I was wondering when you would be coming back. I hadn't seen you in a few days," came the beckoning voice of the store's owner, Mr. Morgan. He was almost like an uncle to all of the younger people in town, being about thirty-five and younger. You were toward the older end of his infinite nieces and nephews, though he would swear you were his favorite.

"I was able to get an extra day or two in on my stock. I call that quite the accomplishment."

"Did you make it last longer, or did you go without longer than usual?" He questioned you, peering over his glass at you as you set the water containers down. He knew what your current situation was, but at the end of the day, he still had a business to run. "I can't do anything for you today until you pay your tab." He was serious, but he had a little glint in his eye as if letting a loved one down.

You looked at him, your once welcoming face now placid. "Mr. Morgan, please. You know I'm good for the money." you fished around in your jacket, pulling out the last thirty-seven dollars and change you had. You knew it wouldn't cover your tab plus what you needed, but you also knew he had a business to run. "I just need a little more time. And some supplies. Please."

It was a plea, a simple one. Though you knew he was the holder behind how the rest of your week was going to go. "I'll stock shelves for you to pay the rest of my tab. I'll scrub the floors with a toothbrush. I'm willing to work."

He took his glasses off, looking at the cash in front of him. He didn't want to see anybody struggling, but he couldn't ignore his debts. He shuffled the money around, taking thirty dollars for himself and handing you the seven dollars and change back. "I can't afford to add anybody else to my payroll, or else I would. You can have one water refill, a full tank of gas, and some cat food. Nothing more."

You stared at him, lips parted as if to protest the money exchange, but the sound of the bells chiming against the door flooded those thoughts. You reached for the cash, scooping the change into your hand. All you could muster was a simple "Thank you." Moving the water containers to the side, you placed two of the containers into the designated area, then took one to the refill station, and filled the water container.

You had to figure something out and fast.

--

A newly filled water container was placed in the truck bed, a full tank of gas in your truck, and a sack of wet and dry cat food sat on the passenger floorboard. Looking around the small main street of the town where ninety percent of the town's businesses resided, you decided to leave your truck where it was. You were on the hunt for a job, and you were damn determined to find employment by the end of the day.

You used your side view mirror to make sure your hair looked fine, adjusting the collar of your jacket and shirt, you straightened up peering back at the main street. The best way to start job hunting was to start at the end of the street and work your way back down, entering every business you spotted. The good thing about small towns was all you needed was to name-drop a couple of people, resumes didn't hold up well.

The bad thing about small towns was that everybody needed work. Store owner after store owner denied your requests. The pawn shop wasn't looking for new employees, the liquor store had too many employees as is, and the antiquities store only hired their family members. The options were dwindling down, and soon you were nervous you were going to have to find a creative way to make money or even worse, entertain the thought of being a lot lizard.

The only two businesses left were the diner on the right side of the street and the motel at the end of the road. Either of them could have positions open, yet they could also deny you a job opening. You had to hope they had an opening somewhere, knowing you were not creative enough to make and sell items for cash. You didn't own many items to sell, beyond the couch, a cot you used to sleep on, and the few little trinkets you received when her father died. The most expensive item you owned was more than likely the truck, and selling it would mean nearly desertion at your home.

Without another thought, you crossed the street as a logging truck passed in front of you. You made some eye contact with the driver, making sure you waited until he drove in front of you before crossing the street.

As you pushed open the doors of the diner, a woman ten years your senior greeted you. "Have a seat wherever you want, sweetheart."

You crossed the room, taking a seat in front of her as she cleaned the counter space. "I know you are busy, and I don't want to take up too much of your time. I'm looking for a job. Mr. Morgan told me you might have something open here?"

The woman looked up from her work, eyeing you down after you mentioned Mr. Morgan. Her ginger curly hair cascaded down her shoulders as she shifted her weight. "Mr. Morgan, huh?" It was hard to tell by her expression, but she seemed to be thinking about something.

The door opened again, and a young blonde woman entered appearing slightly disheveled as if she had just woken up. "I'm here, Rebecca."

The woman in front of you, Rebecca as you read the name tag, turned her body toward the younger woman, then looked to the clock. She placed one hand on her hip. "Only two hours late." She looked between you and the woman, a mischievous look in her eyes. "I told you, show up on time or don't show up at all."

The blonde woman huffed a little, crossing her arms. "It's not like anybody else wants this job."

Rebecca smirked, walking around the counter toward the woman. "Actually she does." She was quick to snatch the apron from the blonde woman. "Clean your uniform and have it dropped by the end of the week, then you will get your check." She then tossed the apron to you, catching it effortlessly.

The blonde huffed, storming out of the diner and throwing a couple of curses in the air. "Your shift starts now. Take a menu, and study it between customers. Orders go to Big Ben. Don't ask us why we call him that and don't make any eye contact. Burgers are made to order, the soup of the day is Italian wedding, and you can give me your jacket."

Her orders came quickly as you stood up, removing your jacket and tying the apron around your waist. There had been a little notebook in the apron and a pen, thankfully saving your ass as you wrote down the notes she gave you. The doorbell rang again, the older woman looked at you with a questionable look. That was your cue, time to work. "Take a seat wherever you want." You nodded, taking a menu in your hands and walking up to your first-ever customer.

--

As his boots made contact with the ground below him, the man took a moment to adjust his shoulders, rolling them a couple of times as he stretched. He could have sworn the truck cabs were getting smaller and smaller, almost feeling his head touch the rooftop. At least he could rest comfortably during his lunch break. He had contemplated having a liquid diet for lunch paired with a cigar, but the smell of greasy burgers filled his nostrils. Tucking the keys of the truck in his vest pocket, Logan walked toward to diner.

He passed by an unruly blonde woman, muttering under her breath about being fired barely filling his ears. He persisted in, entering the diner. Not looking up, he heard the greeting offered to him, hearing two different footsteps filling the diner. One was the small heels clicking against the tile floors. The other was boots muffled against the tile. A small pair of hands moved to set a menu down in front of him, along with what looked like one single-ply napkin and a fork. "What can I get started for you?"

Logan still hadn't looked up yet, looking at the laminated two-sided menu in front of him. "Coffee." He blurted, though wishing he could have an iced beer with his food. The woman left his table, rounding the counter and finding the coffee pot and cups. A minute may have passed by as he scanned the menu. He wasn't that much of a picky eater, as long as it used to have a heartbeat, he was fine.

The mug was set down in front of him, steam rolling off the black liquid. "I'll have the cheeseburger and fries." He picked up the menu, handing it back to the waitress. That was when he finally turned to look at her, remembering her as the woman who crossed the street behind him. She didn't seem to be dressed for work, not like the other woman who was behind the counter now fiddling with some dishes.

"You got it." She left the table, and walked over to the window, setting a ticket in the designated space that the other woman told her about. His hand wrapped around the mug in front of him, looking outside as he silently observed the town. He was in this stretch of land only long enough to get him enough cash to figure out his next move. He didn't like to stay in the same place too long, maybe a year or two at most. He didn't mind the small circles running in this part of the state, but he knew that if he wanted to go somewhere else he would have to figure it out soon before the snow moved in.

What felt like ten minutes had passed before the woman came back, setting his plate in front of him. "Can I get you anything else?"

He shook his head, brushing her off. As she left, she could smell a strong scent of pine around her, as if she herself was a pine tree. It wasn't a disheartening smell, something he actually liked.

Another set of diners came in, sitting a few booths behind Logan. As he ate his food all he could hear was her voice, despite there being a total of seven beings in the diner he could hear. Somehow her voice was the loudest in his mind. Not the heartbeats of the seven people, not his heartbeat, not her heartbeat. Her voice.

As he finished the food in front of him, she walked over to him, leaving his ticket and grabbing the empty plate. "Do you want a cup for the road?"

He reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a billfold. "Yeah, sounds good."

She returned with his to-go coffee, handing it over to him as he left cash on the table, adjusting his shirt collar. "Here, let me get your change."

"Keep it." He walked out of the diner, making a bee-line for his truck, fighting everything in him to talk to her again. Little did he know, that wasn't going to be their only interaction for the day.

--

The daylight began to dissipate, street lights were turning on and the neon signs from the only bar in town began to glow. Rebecca presented to you with a powder blue uniform dress. The diner and the employees looked as if they hadn't left the fifties, just as the regular customers liked to relive. "You did good, peanut. The job is yours. Your next shift is tomorrow, Nine to five, be here no less than ten minutes before clocking in tomorrow. I'll have some shoes for you. Can't have my girls in boots for service."

You took the uniform and hanger, nodding. "Yes ma'am."

Rebecca giggled a little. "Oh darlin', I'm no ma'am. You can call me Becky."

Parting ways with your new manager, you left the diner, uniform in hand and some tips in your apron. You couldn't help but think about the first customer you had that day, a man appearing around your age, how quick your interactions were, but how he almost seemed disinterested in interacting with you. Was it possible he was a regular of the blonde woman? He paid his bill, he tipped you, and you went on about your day. That was all you could ask for.

Returning to your truck still parked in front of the grocery store, you set your items down in the cab. Peering to the bed of the truck, you huff as you realize your water container is missing. At least the thief had the balls to leave your empty gas container. Mr. Morgan's place was closed for the night, so you would have to swing by the store after work. "Cowards." you hum to yourself, getting in the truck and turning over the engine.

Returning home, you fed Felix with the food you acquired today. Becky made sure you had something to eat as well before you left the diner, though Big Ben had made a comment about it. This only solved three of your problems for the day. You still needed to wash up, and without the water container, you only had one choice.

The easiest thing would be to take a bucket to the lake and boil the water before using it to wash up. Not thinking clearly either, you left the house without any type of protection, knowing you were just getting water and heading back to the house. The only light you had to help you was the half-moon above you.

Unknown to you, the man from the diner had followed you home, wondering what you were up to. He wished he could understand what was happening, but your voice was all he could hear and focus on the rest of the day. His truck was parked in the woods opposite your home, and he stood in the tree line listening to the orchestra of insects and animals around the both of you. Foxes howled in the far distance, deer were settling in for the night. But there was another predator within the vicinity, one unbeknownst to you.

You kneeled down to fill the metal bucket with water, you were being watched by a wolverine and a black bear. A bear looking for its next meal, and a wolverine searching for answers, only to find more problems in his way.

The grunt of the bear finally caught your attention. It had been nearly twenty feet in front of you, standing on a rock as it discarded the fish carcass in its claws. He smelled bigger game, and his blood lust was all he could focus on.

Leaving the bucket still in the water, you slowly stood up, keeping your hands to your sides. It stayed on its rock, turning toward you. It must have been fully grown, which spelled danger for you. Black bears did not care and would defend themselves to the death, even if it was not threatened.

Seconds felt like minutes as the bear finally stood up, roaring before falling to all fours and darting toward you. There was no way you could outrun a bear, let alone rely on your home to defend you. Laying down now meant instant death for you. Climbing trees was out of the question.

Your heart pounded in your chest with every footfall, knowing the longer you thought about survival, the more your chances diminished.

The bear caught up to you, pinning you down and tossing you around. Your screams filled the space of the open field around you. Claws tore into your skin and clothes as you felt warm blood escape your body.

Snikt

The bear roared out, turning its attention away from you to something else, attacking it. The sounds of two animals tousling with each other filled the air, but after one minute, the bear grew quiet, a distinct thud was heard as its body fell to the ground.

Something rushed up to you, and before you could react, you felt human hands touching your body. "No, no, no."

You looked up to see the man from the diner hovering over you as his knees collided with the ground next to you. His face was bleeding, but as you watched him, you saw his wounds close and heal within seconds. Almost just like...

He observed you, looking at where your wounds were.

Or used to be.

You sat up, scooting away from him a little. Breathing heavily, the both of, you looked at his tattered clothes and blood stains. yet there was an absence of wounds. "What are you?" You asked hurriedly.

He stared at you, his eyes dancing the same tango where your wounds used to be. "I could ask you the same." He ran a hand over his hair before standing up. He offered you a hand, however you didn't take it. Brushing yourself off from the dirt.

"Nothing happened here, okay?"

Logan turned toward you as he watched you walk back to the lake, picking up the bucket of water.

You realized what you said sounded harsh, and that wasn't your nature. Closing your eyes briefly, you look back at the man. "I have some clothes in my house. I can at least give you something to replace those."

He watched you begin walking toward the cabin you called home. Taking a moment, he decided to follow in your footsteps, quickly matching your pace to walk with you. "I saw you get attacked by that bear. I can see the blood." His eyes scan over your back, where layers of clothes are torn. Not just your jacket, but your shirt, and an undershirt.

You swung open the door of your cabin after walking up the little set of stairs on your porch. "Not to sound like a broken record, but, I can ask you the same."

After both of you were in the cabin, you set the bucket down next to the woodfire stove, pulled some of the water into a pot, then set it on the surface of the stove to boil the water. You then opened up a door, the only closet space in your cabin. There was a box labeled Dad's clothes written in neat handwriting. You pushed it out to the side, then grabbed two jackets. "Here, pick out what you want."

He looked at you, unsure of the idea. There was more to ask now, and he wasn't so sure where to start. He watched as you moved around in the cabin, picking up a little bowl and scooping its contents into a bowl. He could smell the cat, but not see it. He looked around, wondering where it was.

You observed his behavior, wondering what he was doing. Clearing your throat, you took a stab in the dark. "His name is Felix. He doesn't like strangers. If I had to guess, he is on my bed, or under it."

He smirked a little, knowing his suspicion had been confirmed. He approached the box, opening it to look at the different shirts and pants inside.

You observed him, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the wall. "Why are you out here?" You were thankful he showed up when he did, knowing you didn't have many defenses against the bear beyond how you healed.

Instead of giving a bullshit answer or response, he turned to look at you, a gray flannel in hand. "I was just passing through." He lied.

You shook your head, eyeing him as you lowered an eyebrow. "No, you didn't. Nobody passes through this place." Sighing a little, you felt a tug in your back. "Look, I've had a somewhat normal life here, have my entire life. I don't really have anything else to go to, or the drive to go anywhere else. I'll tell you what I can do, and I can answer any questions you have. Then we can part our separate ways. Sound like a deal?"

Logan stood up, tossing the flannel over his shoulder. He held his hands up to his sides, shrugging his shoulders. "I won't complain." He didn't know where this would lead him, but the thought of getting some answers meant his trip wouldn't be wasted.

Nodding, you rolled the sleeve of your torn jacket up, exposing the lower part of your arm to him. you pulled one of the logs out of the stove, holding the unburned end in your hand. The other side was on fire. You held your arm out in front of you, then pressed the fire to your skin, doing your best to stifle the groans from the injury. Pulling the log away, the third-degree burn healed almost instantly as tissue, muscles, and skin grew back together. After showing him the display of your power, you put the log back in the stove. "I was never sick as a child. injured that should have resulted in broken bones never bothered me."

Logan watched you burn yourself and then heal almost instantly. He hadn't met anyone before who had the same healing rate as he did. What were the odds of meeting another mutant out in the middle of nowhere Montana?

"Can I show you what I can do?" He asked, watching your every moment with precision. As he watched you nod, he moved his right hand to cross in front of him. Slowly, the sound of moving metal filled the air as three long knife-like appendages emerged between his knuckles. You stared in a mix of awe and confusion. He smirked, then sliced the pad of his left hand, showing you his own healing rate.

What caught him off guard was how you began to approach him, though it was a slow approach. On instinct, he retracted his claws, the spaces where they had once been healing up. "Does it hurt?" You ask him, rubbing your own knuckles where the blades would have been.

He didn't know how to feel, knowing that the two of you were just strangers passing in the night. "Every damn time." His voice was above a whisper, as if afraid the tone of his voice would break the sound barrier.

Silent moments passed between the two of you, tension filling the air. He couldn't stand it anymore as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "I should really get going," he spoke, stepping around you. Dazed little you finally felt you weren't the only one anymore.

You turned around to face him as he approached your door. "You know, I have a shift at the diner tomorrow. Maybe you'll happen to forget your lunch and have to stop by the diner?"

He should say no. He should be grabbing his things and heading out of town as quickly as possible. He should put this place in his rearview mirror and forget anything that happened there. But the drum of your heartbeat spoke bigger volumes than his brain did.

"We'll see." He nodded, thanking you silently with a gesture of the shirt before leaving your cabin, and walking toward his truck. He needed out of there as quickly as possible. Another moment with you could have sent him into a coma. How beautiful you smelled, how kind you were. Even though you were quick to block him earlier and run away, you still let him into your home and offered him a simple reward for saving your life.

It was almost too intoxicating to think about. And the promise of tomorrow could never come any sooner.

[bitterkarella]

Identifying furries by their fursonas

Fox- this is the default fursona for the default furry, namely a twink with a blown out fucked to death asshole

Vixen- Girl fox referred to as a vixen is an egg, girl fox just referred to as a fox is an out trans woman

Kistune - the same as above but weeb flavor

he-wolf - a greasy guy who weighs 12 pounds soaking wet and wears a fedora. republican.

she-wolf - the butchest bull dyke you ever saw

coyote - manic depressive. always on something. the drug connection at any furry party

Cat- always a woman

black cat - could be any gender but always goth

kitten/kitty - a trans sex worker, has an only fans they really want you to know about.

bobcat - older dude. wants people to think he's ex-military

Jaguar - an older black guy. will probably have the word "black" in his fursona's name

lion - just a huge asshole

tiger - another asshole. old. wants you to believe he's ex military or ex-police, probably a member of the dorsai irregulars. major grill dad vibes

jackal - a huge asshole and a slut. white gay racist, probably transphobic

cougar - either a trans woman or a terf. there's no in between

Horse - white woman who identifies as 2 Spirit or a guy who wants to be stomped on

Pony - gay nazi

unicorn - either the absolute gayest dude you can be or a 9 year old girl. sometimes a late in life transition

Tanuki - latino

badger - either a huge lesbian or an old avuncular straight guy. possible sex pest

Raccoon - nature's greatest mistake. too normie to be furry, too furry to be normie. dilf.

bat - either a goth or a real annoying shit (some overlap). invader zim fanboy. doesn't drink alcohol but claims to act crazy on "sugar highs." definitely has dabbled in webcomics

cow - a woman. maternal. mom friend or mommy dom. milf. possibly trans femme

steer - a big strong fat rough trade gay guy

sheep - mom vibes

pretty much any farm animal - mom vibes

domestic pig - wild card. might be a wet and messy fetish thing tho or a trash eating thing. loves to be stinky. loves to talk about being stinky.

wild pig - trans masc

skunk - either a fat beardy guy who has a tumblr blog about animation squash & stretch or a stoner gal. very straight. the straightest. a kinsey 0. has strong feelings about what the fandom used to be like before there were all these kids in it.

rat - is a huge asshole as a front, probably likes talking cigars

lemur - autistic

sloth - 420 blaze it. will never finish any commissions

chakat - an older cishet man who thinks the fandom is too political & refers to "anime" as "japanimation"

sergel - nazi

citra - the biggest dipshit you've ever met

procyon - furry equivalent of the thomas jefferson miku binder pic. you should not be talking to this person, this is a literal child

weasel - a girl with cluster b personality disorders

ferret - a person who has at least one pet ferret, but probably many

mole - this person thinks they're in a beatrix potter story

guinea pig/chinchilla/jerboa/gerbil/any kind of fat rodent you can keep as a pet - the sweetest person you will ever meet

armadillo/pangolin/anteater/aardvark - smug, contrarian. "i just wanna be different"

mouse - vore fetishist, prey. sub.

hyena - vore fetishist, pred. probably trans masc

otter - a dommy twink, possible enby

bear - gay

panda - absolutely a white person pretending to be asian. probably running a gofund me scam with a suspicious story about how they're a professional nintendo gamer who injured their hand or something

bullfrog - a huge fat hairy straight guy

any other frog - inflation or rubber fetishist

axolotl/newt/salamander - genderfluid enby

rabbit - trad wife trans woman

squirrel - autistic and gay

deer - gay

gazelle - zootopia megafan

monkey - punk DIY artist type, definitely loves weed

ape - absolutely baffling. nothing this person does or says makes any sense. you will be left wondering whether you're speaking to a child, a person with severe mental issues, or someone who doesn't have english as a first language

elephant - mom friend

hippo - a fat fetishist or a transformation fetishist

rhino - an older cishet dude who wants to project a curmudgeonly yet approachable aura

kangaroo - definitely not an australian person. extremely focused kinkster, usually feet or inflation. more STDs than should be possible to carry

koala - an asian woman

virginia opossum - anarchist/communist punk trans man who makes zines and/or comics

australian possum - just here to have fun. wants everyone else to be having fun too. wacky funster. (sugar gliders and flying squirrels fall under this category)

any other marsupial - poser

monotremes - extreme poser, don't even bother

doberman- gay dude who tops from the bottom or a cop (there is some overlap)

german shepherd - a nazi or a cop (there is substantial overlap). definitely a furry raider. he will wear his cop uniform to con and after con will post videos pretending that someone was rude to him

afghan - arch femme

basset hound - racist

puppy - sub, probably an egg. extremely draining. cries a lot

all other dogs - just dudes being bros (gender neutral)

dragon - the furries of furries. like to talk about eating "sammiches" and "chocklit." probably an adult baby lifestyler. they will send DMs that just say "hi." they like to RP and when they contact you about a potential commission they are actually just trying to trick you into RP

griffin - the same as above but also a brony

snake - sissy hypno fetishist

turtle - an old man, probably southern. an ironic grandpa.

other scalies - furry in denial. either a child or an old person from CYD. the world's last something awful goons

any fursona with latino vibes - white

any fursona with asian vibes - latino

any fursona with native american vibes - eastern european

avian - girl who's not like other girls. hippie. vegan.

raven/crow - agender voidgoth

chicken - mom vibes

dinosaur - the absolute biggest nerd. probably has an actual degree in paleontology. definitely dresses like miss frizzle.

any invertebrate - not a real furry, their girlfriend just made them get a furaffinity account before they could get ass. either that or they've never even heard of furry, they just came up with the idea of anthropomorphics from first principles. a biology teacher or weirdo (there is some overlap)

amoeba - this is a troll

[kamaela]

To Be Punished (M, 1k)

Fic by me

I wrote a fic for a discord challenge: Outsider POV. Read below or on AO3

Tags:

POV Outsider, Major Character Death, Draco Malfoy in Azkaban, Angst and Tragedy, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Auror Harry Potter, Sad Ending

Summary:

An Azkaban guard bears witness to Draco and Harry and all that stands between them.

***

Inmate #227: D. Malfoy. High Risk. 24-hour guard. No visitors.

Don’t interact with the inmate. That was one of the first things she’d been told during training. She was to stand guard, silent and alert. She was not to engage.

—

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Harry Potter spat. He was angrier than she’d ever seen him in the papers.

He wasn’t a visitor. He was here on ‘official Auror business.’

Malfoy lay in his cot, staring at the ceiling. He’d been that way since he’d arrived, straight from his trial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb. I was there!” The wards stretching between them shuddered.

“I’m not sure why you’re asking me about it, then.”

“I want to know why. We had a plan. You didn’t just stray from it, you blew it up. With wandless fucking magic!”

Malfoy sat up, turned. “They insulted her! You know how I—I couldn’t control it.”

“They’re gonna use this to jack up your sentence. All that work we did—”

—

Malfoy’s sentencing hearing lasted no more than 15 minutes. Two Aurors escorted him back to his cell. Harry Potter, pale and unsteady, wasn’t far behind.

“Draco, I—”

“Twenty years,” Malfoy said. His voice shook.

“It’s okay, I’m going to fix this. I’m gonna get Hermione and I—we’re gonna fix this.”

Malfoy laughed. “You’re an idiot, Potter.”

—

Harry Potter visited every few weeks. Today, he vibrated with fevered enthusiasm. She watched his steps as he paced in front of the cell.

“There’s heaps of evidence of corruption, not just in the Wizengamot. With the right angle, Hermione thinks we can build a really strong case. Maybe—Draco, are you listening to me?”

“No.”

—

“No luck?” Malfoy was leaning against the wall, picking his nails. He seemed unconcerned, but she knew better. He’d paced in his cell right up to the minute Harry had stepped through the door.

“I don't know why you're so smug about it.”

“Even the Boy Who Lived can't save the poor teenage Death Eater.”

Harry ran the toe of his boot along the stone floor.

“Twenty years Draco. I'm not sure I can—”

“I'm not asking you to.”

—

“I dreamt about that night on the rooftop, when we—”

“Oh.” A small private smile flickered across Harry’s face.

She started to wonder if it really was Auror business he was here for.

“I think you should stop coming by, Harry.”

—

It had been a few months, but Harry came back. It seemed he couldn’t keep away.

Draco’s voice was sharp. “What are you doing here, I told them I didn't want—”

“I paid off the guards.”

A scoff. “Of course.”

Harry stepped closer to the barrier. “You look—have you been sleeping?”

Draco laughed, shifting his gaze to her as if they shared an inside joke.

—

“They agreed to a hearing,” Harry exclaimed.

She hadn’t seen Draco get out of his cot for 72 hours. Today was no exception.

“Well, aren't you pleased?” Harry prompted.

“I have no feelings about it one way or another.”

—

“I saw Mother last night.” Draco’s eyes were puffy. Her colleague had said he’d been crying all night.

“Oh.”

“This place, Harry. I need to get out.”

Harry tugged his maroon robes.

“I'm so sorry. They upheld the decision.”

Draco put his head in his hands.

—

“I saw Mother again. He was there, too.”

“I'm sorry. Let's talk about something happy.”

“Happy?”

“Christmas. At The Manor? You remember, we tried to make gingerbread?”

A soft chuckle, “Oh yes, that was…”

—

“I can’t stop the dreams. I could never—the only time they stopped was when we—”

“I know,” Harry rested his forehead against the barrier. “Gods, I wish I could hold you.”

The dementors were gone, but the infection they’d left behind was vicious. She wondered if she should log an incident report. Nightmares were an early sign.

—

Draco had been pacing and muttering for hours before Harry arrived.

“Draco.”

“I’ve still got that twelve inch charms essay to finish.”

“Draco, it’s me. Harry.”

Draco kept pacing.

“Will you look at me?”

Draco did. “I miss you.”

—

“Mother visited last night,”

“Oh really?”

“She says hello.”

“Well, that’s nice of her.”

—

“Harry, I keep seeing him. I keep—I don’t want to go back there.”

“I know.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m gonna fix this.”

She felt it was rather unfair of Harry to give him false hope.

—

“We’re going to keep trying, I’m not giving up.”

“It’s okay, Harry.”

A strangled sound. “No. Don’t—”

“At least we got those months. That’s more than I ever…” Draco pressed a hand against the barrier, and the gesture seemed like a declaration.

“Don’t,” Harry whispered, a plea.

—

“I wish we’d had more time,” Harry said.

Draco laughed.

“Draco, what are you—”

“They took away my bedframe. I have no sheets.” He kept laughing.

—

Draco’s hair was matted. He’s been refusing to shower.

“Potter, what are you doing? You can't be here.”

“Draco—”

“He’ll be here any second. My Aunt, she called him—”

“We’re not at—”

“No! Harry, you have to get out. You have to win. Please. Go.”

“Okay, Draco. I’ll go.”

Harry hadn’t let her see him cry, until then.

—

“Harry.” Draco sat pressed right up against Harry, touching, if not for the magic weaved between them. “I’m not sure I can keep doing this.”

“I know.” Harry’s voice was small, kind. “I won’t ask you to.”

“In a different life, do you think—” Draco’s face crumpled. She had to look away.

Harry rubbed his eyes repeatedly. “Yes, love. In any life.”

—

He wasn’t a next-of-kin, nor a registered visitor, so he hadn't been notified.

He arrived as usual, glasses askew.

She hadn’t been trained for this.

“Mr. Potter.”

“Where is he? Have you moved him?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”

His green eyes dulled as he collapsed onto the floor. She wondered then, as the hero’s sobs rent the air, who this place punished more.

[chanshoesunite]

Chan on the Beach

Content Info: Chan and Y/N meet on a beach in Australia at Christmas and have some fun. This is an edit of Hare's bday fic for Tortoise. No beta we die like Y/N's resistance against lifeguard Chan.

Word count: around 6K

Warnings: semi-public sex, dirty talk

„Aaaah, this is the life!”

You reach over to grab your Virgin Lavender Mojito off the little table next to your lounger. Taking a sip through your plastic-free straw, you let your gaze, well-protected behind your heart-shaped shades, wander across the bay. From your position high up next to the rooftop pool of the renowned “Park Hyatt Sydney”, you can see the world-famous opera house.

“I know, right?” Your best friend Hare is next to you, holding a flashy pink cocktail. “Bless this job!”

As a pilot, Hare is allowed to bring someone along whenever she needs to fly over one of the major holidays, and since it’s Christmas in Austria right now and you’ll only fly back on the 28th, she chose her best friend to keep her company in her five-star hotel. There really are worse fates.

You stand to let your gaze properly explore the vicinity. “Do you fancy going to the beach?” you ask, spying the almost glisteningly white sand in the distance.

Hare raises an eyebrow at you, which you only realise because now it appears behind her sunglasses. “And getting eaten by a shark? Is this your idea of a good time?”

You giggle. “Oh, come on, there are safety nets. And anyway, I was thinking we could do one of those fun videos where you throw sand and I twirl in it? You know, for the Gram?”

Hare looks like she has half a mind to protest, might find this not worth the hassle, but then her smile softens. “Sure,” she says. “Let me check with the hotel staff to find the best beach access for us.”

…

An hour later, you are in your gloriously colourful bikini, twirling barefoot in the sand even though it’s too hot for comfort – not that you would give that away and ruin your Instagram reel, though. Hare is holding your phone, trying to get the perfect angle to have the sun glistening in a golden hour-way on the water.

“And now the sand,” you prompt. “You kinda just let it fly in the breeze, so it looks nice behind me.”

Hare looks dubious for a second. “What if I mess up and hit someone else?” You wave it off. “There’s nobody around!”

It’s true enough – it’s around dinner time, and your stretch of the beach is, possibly due to the holiday, rather empty. Hare nods. “Okay, sure.” She bends down to grab some of the white sand and repositions herself to throw it into the air. You twirl, and from the way Hare’s lips widen into a grin, you can tell it’s a great shot. You can already imagine how amazing you’ll look and how many likes you’ll get, maybe you should cross-post it on TikTok and-

“Oi!”

Both of you turn to see someone standing there. And what a someone. Well, two someones, actually, but your eyes are glued to Someone Number One. He isn’t exactly tall, but well built, his black swimming shorts showing off his narrow hips and creating a marvellous contrast to his thoroughly-trained upper body. He has a sharp jawline that you would like him to use to cut you into chips, a big nose, well-formed cheek bones and beautiful eyes that are, admittedly, currently glaring at you. “What’s that all about?”

One glance at his wet upper body, which is now covered in sand, tells the entirety of what happened – that he is the unwilling participator in an Instagram challenge gone just a little wrong.

Hare gets her bearings faster, but from the way she eyes the taller, lithe man next to the buff grumpy guy, you assume that in order to get into her head, you would have to pass an 18+ ID check. “Sorry, we didn’t see you there and meant absolutely no harm!” She extends one of their towels to the taller guy who looks a little like a Korean forest fairy. “Here, please.”

The guy accepts the towel from her, cleaning his (for his build) substantial abs. You tear your gaze away and meet the buff dude’s eyes, who sarcastically pulls up one eyebrow. For a second, you don’t know what to do.

“Oh!” You realise he’s expecting you to also offer him a towel, so you do. At the way you briefly flounder around, your nemesis’ face softens, and a little smile plays on his face. It’s a good look on him, you decide. “Cheers”, he thanks you, cleaning himself up. “What were you even doing there, throwing sand?” he asks, somewhat curious and content now that the sand isn’t on his pecs but your expensive hotel towel. His voice is still a little gruff, a little dark, a little deep, his Australian accent making it all the more delicious.

Hare, the ever-trusting girl that she is, extends her phone to him. “I was filming a slow-mo reel. It looks absolutely gorgeous if you ask me. Sorry again, but it was kind of worth hitting you with sand for it.”

The two men watch the reel and you can feel your face heating up. You haven’t even seen it yourself yet, and now those two handsome dudes get to do so before you?! You should be mad at Hare, but from the way buff guy’s face softens watching it, you really, really can’t.

Handing her phone back to Hare, the guy looks at you. “You’re beautiful in this,” he says, a little sparkle in his dark eyes. “If I can follow you on Instagram, you’re forgiven.”

Ummmmmm. That’s a statement you haven’t anticipated. You gulp a bit. “Okay,” you agree, and accept the phone back from Hare to open the app for him. Your hand brushes his as you hand it over, and the back of your neck prickles. At the touch, his eyes find yours, and he smirks just the tiniest bit before focusing on the device to type in his Instagram handle. You feel a little lost for words, so you look over at Hare, who confidently winks at you. “Maybe we can buy you two a drink in order to make up for the, er, Sand Incident?”

The other boy chuckles. You take a moment to look at him more carefully and appreciate his fine features, his longer hair tied back in a ponytail. He is beautiful, no doubt about it, but you prefer his shorter friend. “That’s a lovely offer, but we’re actually headed to a party later.” Ponytail glances at the Short King. “But actually…?”

The Short King has finished typing his name. “Yeah, how about you come along?” he finishes the sentence. “I’m Chan,” he adds as he hands back the phone, “but lots of people call me Chris.” Chan nods at the phone and you glance at the handle. “Chanstopher97”. Oh, he’s younger, too. Hot. You accept his following request.

“And I’m Hyunjin.” The other boy smiles at Hare in a way that shows you he seems just as taken with your friend as her body language suggests she is with him. Nice.

“I’m Y/N,” you take charge of the conversation now, and there is a laugh dancing in Chan’s eyes. “And that’s Hare. And about our evening plans…” You look over at Hare, hoping to telepathically communicate that you’re not ready to make this impromptu decision without talking it through with her first.

Hare smiles. “We have dinner plans, but why don’t you text Y/N the address and we’ll see if we can meet you there?” You two share a look and you feel seen and comforted. Hare is keeping your options open but not consenting or refusing in your name.

There is slight disappointment in the two men’s faces, but that’s their issue. “All right,” Chan agrees, running a hand through his darkly wet hair and you are mesmerised by the way the muscles flex on his arms. “I’ll text you in a bit.” He smiles at you. “I really hope to see you there. It’s at the beach, but it does get cool at night, so make sure to bring a hoodie.” He pauses strategically. “Or you can always wear mine.”

You bite your lip to suppress a giddy grin, and his eyes follow the movement. There is an almost hungry quality in his gaze before it flickers back up to again. “See you later.” The confidence he lays into these three words is astounding but very attractive.

Hyunjin smiles sweetly at Hare, which she reciprocates, and then the two men make their way up the beach, in such a manner that the two of you can appreciate their backsides. When they turn around, you feel caught, and the slight blush on Hare’s face betrays the fact that she is experiencing the same emotion. As if in unspoken agreement, you both turn around and sink down in the sand, onto your respective towels that are already dirty anyway.

You are quiet for a moment. Then- “Well, damn,” Hare says.

“Damn,” you agree.

“He’s really hot.”

“I know. Mine too.”

“There’s one for each of us.”

“Yeah.”

Hare glances over at you. “How do you feel about a beach party on Christmas Day in Australia?”

You watch the setting sun glittering on the waves. How do you feel about this? On the one hand, many strangers in one place, mixed with alcohol, are never on top of your list when it comes to a desired evening programme. On the other hand, the party doesn’t have to be where they stay, does it? And Chan, Chris… He is really something. If he were lavender lemonade, you’d sip him. Hehe. Also, as a pilot, Hare has to stay sober, so there will be at least one reasonable person around – or, knowing your besty, at least a sober one.

“I think,” you say slowly. “Theoretically, if we didn’t like it, we could go home at any time. And we can share our location in case we lose each other.”

A slow smile spreads across Hare’s face, reminding you of a cartoon cat who has spotted an especially delicious baby bird. “All right,” your besty agrees. “Let’s party tonight.”

…

Chan texts the details within ten minutes of meeting you and you try not to let it get to your head. Hare and you enjoy an outstanding dinner on the hotel’s rooftop terrace, a Christmas present from the airline, and don’t let the prospect of two hot Korean men on a beach force you to hurry through the five delicious courses. Afterwards, you throw on bikinis, shorts, cute tops and pack long-sleeved items as well, just to be on the safe side. With on-fleek eyeliner and beautiful lipstick, you must surely be the hottest besty duo that has ever walked the hallways of this grand hotel, or so you think on their way downstairs to catch your Uber.

The party location seems to be a dive bar, and as you approach the hut, you are relieved to see that while there is a crowd gathered, it is not overwhelming. The last rays of sunlight are winking over the horizon as the two of you enter the bar.

The interior design is a little bit clichéd in its maritime theme, but since this is your first authentic dive bar experience, you don’t mind. You glance at the nets, the taxidermied swordfish, the life belts, take in the Jack Johnson song playing, and decide you like it. The bar is situated in the middle of the wooden building, an “o” marking the centre of the spot. And right there, behind the counter, drawing a beer, is-

“Is that Chan?” Hare asks the exact moment you realise that your crush is actually working here. Your gaze falls onto Hyunjin next to him, wiping glasses, and the women waiting to catch their attention in front of the bar. “Well,” you conclude. “It seems we’re here for the most popular boys. Damn.”

Hare grabs your hand. “That won’t stop us,” she disagrees. “After all, we are the hottest here.”

She pulls you towards the bar, and it is almost eerie how fast Chan’s head snaps up to meet your eyes. His slowly crinkle as he begins to smile. “You came!” he calls over the music and the waiting people, and some of them actually make space for Hare and you. “We came,” you confirm, propping your elbows up on the bar. “And you came to work, by the looks of it?”

Chan seems sheepish for a moment, but quickly shakes it off. “We are only doing the first shift,” he explains, “and then we’ll be all yours.” He gestures around the room. “You can check out the place or the beach if you’d like. Or hang out with us back here?” He has one hand on the door that swings inward and allows for entrance into the centre of the bar.

Hare glances at Hyunjin. “If we hang out back here, will you make us a kickass alcohol-free cocktail?”

Hyunjin smiles – he really looks good in his loose Celine racerback; you have to admit that. “My pleasure,” he says in a voice that is deeper than you remember.

Hare turns to you. “Beach or bar?” she asks.

You barely hesitate. “Bar.”

…

If someone had asked you a few months ago if spending Christmas day behind a bar sounded like fun, you probably would have refused to even consider the possibility. But this – sitting on chairs with Hare, sipping the amazingly lavender-flavoured cocktail Hyunjin created for you, watching the men work, throwing dish towels or napkins at them in jest – this is a perfectly lovely evening. There isn’t much time to chat, but just by looking at them interact with each other, their customers and their work, you get a better idea of their characters.

Chan seems to be caring, friendly, supportive, flirty, Hyunjin appears to be sweet, sassy and a little on the dramatic side. Both of them react well to the sarcastic comments Hare sometimes throws their way, teasing her back and each other. It is obvious that they are firm friends and likely have been for a long time.

“Hey, Hyunjin, your mojito game is actually pretty weak,” Hare exclaims, hopping off her barstool and joining the taller Korean man at the bar, elbowing him gently. “Why don’t I help you with that?”

Hyunjin’s gaze at her is challenging, but he hands her the bottle. “I am ready to be impressed.”

Someone snorts next to you, and you glance up to find Chan very close to you, also watching the two of them. “Hyunjin’s flirting technique need work,” he says, chuckling softly but not unkindly.

You arch an eyebrow at him. “And yours doesn’t?”

Chan turns to you, and with you propped up on your high bar chair, the two of you are eye to eye. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice suddenly just a tiny bit rough, his eyes intense. You feel yourself blushing but don’t look away. “I am,” you agree.

He shrugs. “Then I don’t think it does.” Chan winks at you and returns to the considerable queue in front of the bar, slapping Hyunjin on the shoulder in the process. “Stop flirting!” he barks, and from the way his friend blushes and Hare starts giggling, you can tell that you are not the only one behind this bar who is experiencing chemistry between herself and a man she met at the beach mere hours ago.

The first shift passes quickly, and as the bar fills up, you love seeing Chan get just a little bit hot, his dark t-shirt, tight to begin with, sticking to him in all the right places.

Finally, when a few of their friends come to take over, Chan throws the dish towel he has been holding down onto the bar and turns to you. “Finished!”, he exclaims happily, an almost childlike joy at having completed his task on his face. He extends his hand to you, offering you help in jumping off the chair. You take his hand, and it’s just a little rough. Does he surf? Play the guitar? You intend to find out. Relishing the moment, you wait just a tiny bit before jumping off, and Chan doesn’t let go of your hand when you’re firmly on your feet, either. You look up at him and there is something in his eyes. A dare to let go? Dream on, pretty boy, you think. I dare if you dare.

Hyunjin hands Hare two glasses – two more of the delicious mocktails, you are happy to see – and grabs two bottles of beer. “Shall we?”

The four of you leave the bar area and then the building behind, and you are thankful to be holding Chan’s hand so as to not lose him in the throng of people that seems to have been growing steadily throughout the past hour. Soon, your sandals hit the sand. There are beanbags on the beach, and miraculously, not all of them are occupied yet, possibly because the night air is just a little bit chilly already. Now you have to let go of Chan’s hand and follow the impulse to run across the now cool sand and throw yourself into an extra-large beanbag, giggling happily. Chan is not far behind, though, approaching you at a languid pace, two drinks in his hands which he has seemingly picked up from Hare and Hyunjin, watching you with a smile. When he is finally standing over you, you glancing up at him, his bravado seems somewhat diminished. “May I join you?” he asks, and when you wiggle just a little bit to the side and pat the newly gained space next to you, his smile widens again. He lets himself sink down next to you and you are overwhelmed by how much you like the smell of his shower gel, mixed with just a hint of sweat and ocean breeze. Delicious.

It takes some arranging, but the two of you are finally comfortable side by side, your drinks secured in the sand, Chan crossing his arms behind his head and gazing up into the night sky. You can hear Hare giggle behind you as, by the sound of it, Hyunjin falls off a beanbag.

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but you still decide to break it – after all, you want to get to know this delectable specimen better. “So, is this what Christmas usually looks like for you?” you ask.

Chan glances over at you and holds your gaze. Man, you really want to sink into those eyes. “The party’s a tradition,” he explains. “We always host it.”

“We?” You sit up a tiny bit, edging just a little bit closer, and from the way his body shifts towards you, you can feel that he welcomes the change. Your bare leg brushes against his and the skin-on-skin contact makes you antsy, but in a good way. This is exciting – the two of you both know where this will lead, but the timeline is yet unknown, ready to be discovered.

Chan nods. “The lifeguards. Hyunjin and I both work at this beach.”

You process the info quickly and file it away under the category “hot”. “That’s extremely cool,” is what you say, though. “Very responsible.”

The man seems to be blushing a bit and you love how his cool behaviour falls away when he’s being himself. It’s endearing. “I am a huge ocean enthusiast. I am actually currently writing my dissertation on various measures that could be taken to effectively clean the ocean, you know, to remove all of the microplastic. I’m trying to create a filter that can be produced cheaply and applied across all water temperatures.”

Your mouth actually hangs wide open at this. “So, you’re hot AND super smart?!” you blurt out. “That hardly seems fair!”

Chan smirks at this, but there is no denying that he is flattered and cajoled. “And you haven’t even seen me bench press yet,” he jokes.

You laugh. “I’d love to, though,” you say, more serious than you mean to be.

He grins widely. “Well, if you’ll have any more of those cocktails, maybe I’ll have to carry you back later.”

It’s a joke, you both know it, but you notice the exact moment where you both think about him picking you up and maybe pinning you up against a wall. The mood shifts for a moment, it feels less playful and more explicit. The silence is heavy, almost alive with an electric current.

Chan clears his throat. “You haven’t told me yet what a beautiful publicist from overseas is doing in Australia at Christmas.”

Thankful for the distraction, you tell him about the trip, about your job, and as you sip your respective drinks, you establish a shared love for TV shows, bubble tea, colourful hair, non-spicy foods. If this were a first date, it would be absolutely amazing, but sadly, this can’t be a first date, because in less than seventy-two hours, you will be on your way back, and you are severely jetlagged, having arrived only today, and this will merely be a three-day-thing, if at all. You try not to be sad about this, but it’s hard.

Chan seems to sense your distress. “Is everything all right?” he queries, using his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile. “Yeah. I was just thinking that I’d love to not leave in three days.” This feels like way too big a confession for this casual hook-up, but somehow, simultaneously, it also feels just right.

He seems to contemplate this, then takes your hand. “Want me to show you my lifeguard hut? You can see pretty far from up there.” It’s a distraction, but it’s working, so you nod and smile at him. Chan pulls you to your feet and just as you turn to tell Hare where you're intending to go, you can see her sitting in Hyunjin’s lap, making out with him. Shrugging, you turn back to Chan – after all, you can both access each other’s locations on your phones and Hare knows how to handle a dude. “You know,” you say boldly, “This could be us.”

Chan pulls you after him, towards the lifeguard station. “Oh, don’t worry,” he says with casualness that makes you shiver in anticipation, “it will be.”

…

Chan’s workspace is actually more elaborate than you anticipated. It’s a little hut on a raised platform so he can seek shelter from the sun while watching the ocean. The bottom of the steps is sealed for the night with a chain-link fence so unauthorized or drunk people won’t be tempted to climb up, but Chan produces a key from a chain around his neck and unlocks it so you can access the platform. You go first, but he keeps his hand on your lower back, steadying you, and you have to admit you like it.

Upon arriving at the top, you are greeted by a few solar lanterns glowing in the dark, illuminating your surroundings. You are maybe four metres up above the ground, but everything – the party goers down the beach, the music, the noise – seems miles away. The only thing you can feel is the wind and Chan’s warm hand against your side, and then there is the glorious sound of the sea. The lanterns also reveal that the chair Chan must usually spend his days in is folded up against the railing, replaced by a picknick blanket and a few throw-pillows. You turn to meet his eyes, into this half-embrace he has going on, and his hand finds your lower back again, pressing you softly to his firm chest. “Did you prepare this?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

Chan does have the decency to blush. “I was hoping our night would go this way, I must admit.”

Briefly, the thought that Chan must do this all the time, that this must be his move, makes an appearance, but you actually don’t really care to slut-shame the man. Good for him, he is hot and sweet AND smart, you hope that he has lots of amazing sex, but tonight, preferably with you.

You take it all in – the waves crashing against the sand, the darkness softened by the glow of the lanterns, Chan’s huge hand splayed across your lower back, his scent, his face just inches from yours. “Can I kiss you?” you ask.

Chan briefly closes his eyes before opening them. There is a tiny smile on his lips. “Please,” he whispers. And so, you slowly, anticipation rising in your gut, close the distance and softly place your lips against his. Your first thought is how soft they are as you slowly move, placing your hands against his chest, then sliding them upwards, holding his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Chan tastes of beer and chewing gum, but you don’t mind, you don’t have the capacity to think as his tongue touches yours and suddenly, this isn’t slow anymore, this is heat and lust and want and need. Chan’s hands are still at your lower waist, but from the way he is pressing you against him, you can tell that he wants to touch you, he is just too chivalrous to give in to his passion. You grab hold of one of his hands and place it very deliberately against your bum cheek as you pull his lower lip between your teeth and bite. Chan groans into your mouth, his left hand joining his right on your ass, and then he is lifting you up, pressing you against the railing, thoroughly devouring your mouth all the while.

You wrap your legs around his waist, and one of his hands slides down to touch your bare thigh while he breaks the kiss, pressing his lips to your throat, nibbling, licking, sucking. A moan escapes you, and you can feel him hardening in his pants. Without waiting for him to do it, you pull your shirt off so you’re just in your bikini top, and Chan immediately shifts your weight onto the railing and his left arm so he can slide his hand under the fabric and play with your nipples. At the first slight touch, you are already whining, arching into the touch, and Chan’s chuckle is half mean, half adoring as he watches you respond to him. With your bikini top askew, you feel that the clothing ratio between the two of you is a little unfair, so you pull at his shirt, and he actually stops teasing you for long enough so you can get it off of him. Unfortunately, you don’t have long to admire his physique, because as soon as the offending garment is discarded onto the floor, Chan leans forward to capture one of your nipples between his lips, and your moan is much throatier this time, needier, and you can feel Chan shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he breathes against your chest, making you shudder as the air hits your wet nipple.

“I want you, too,” you admit, stroking your hand across his pecs and earning another groan. “Can you take me like this? Up against the railing?”

Chan arches an eyebrow. “You want me to rail you against the railing?”

You groan at the dad joke, but, for once, not in pleasure. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yup. And speaking of right into…” He slides one hand into your shorts, going straight for your pussy and parting your lower lips with his forefinger so that any protest you had against his stupid pun dies on your lips. “Fuck, you are so wet,” he sighs. “I’d love to stretch you out with my cock.”

You cock your head to the side. “So why don’t you, then?”

At that dare, Chan crashes his lips to yours and your tongues dance wildly together as he slowly strokes your clit with his fingers, making you gasp into the kiss, before abruptly breaking away. “Fuck, let me just grab a condom real quick,” he says as he puts you down gently, placing an almost sweet kiss against your lips before approaching a bag that you didn’t notice earlier. You quickly discard your shorts and bikini bottoms; now only in your bikini top, you lean against the railing and watch the shoulders in Chan’s back work deliciously as he bends over, searches his bag and finally grabs a foil package before slipping it into the pockets of his shorts. Then he joins you again, scooping you up in his strong arms. You seize the opportunity to hold onto them and stroke them as he lifts you again and captures your lips in another scorching kiss. Your wet core presses against his naked lower abs, and Chan moans at the feeling. He lowers you just a little bit, grinding his still-clothed cock against your aching pussy as he presses kisses to your throat, your cleavage, any spot of bare skin he can reach.

“Please, Chan!” You might be begging at this point, but who cares, actually, he feels big and you want to see and especially feel if that’s the case. “I needed you inside of me like five minutes ago!” He stills, breathing heavily against your skin. “Fuck, okay,” he finally rasps after a moment of silence. “Hold on.”

You put your legs onto the railing, propping yourself up while Chan sheds his shorts and underwear, but not before grabbing the condom from his pocket. You watch as he tears open the package and rolls it over his indeed fairly large cock – it almost makes your mouth water and you promise yourself that before the night is over, it will literally make your mouth water.

Having finished his preparations, Chan steps back into the space between your legs, and you pull him closer. Your kiss is slower, more deliberate as he strokes his tongue against yours, tempting you, seducing you. And then his hard cock is pressed against you, and you shift, allowing him to press into you. Slowly, you feel yourself being filled, stretched by his girth, and you moan loudly as centimetre after centimetre disappears into your tight pussy. Unconsciously, you try to shift away from the intrusion, but Chan’s hands on your hips hold you steady, so you can do nothing but give in and take it. Chan’s tongue is back on your nipple, distracting you from the stretch by stimulating you sweetly, and the way he groans against your skin, muttering how amazing you feel, how tight your little pussy is, how good you are being for him, turns you on even further so that you use your heels to pull him closer, pull him in more quickly.

Finally, when he’s fully inside of you, he comes back up to kiss you, the movement causing him to shift inside you, making you both gasp. You are completely naked, completely out in the open, you realise, and still, this moment is intimate, like you are the only two people left in the world. It’s uncomfortable, rushed, risky – and somehow still perfect.

Chan is visibly trembling with the effort of holding still. “Can I move?” he asks, his voice hoarse against your neck as he kisses you softly, waiting for you to adjust to his size.

You cups his cheek so he’ll meet your eyes. When he does, you say, “Fuck me.”

His pupils dilate, and Chan doesn’t need to be told twice before he pulls almost all the way out and pushes back in with a force that knocks the breath out of you. Before you can recover, he does it again, setting a relentless rhythm, and you are caged between his body and the railing, his thrusts an assault to your very being, but in the best way possible. His body is blazing in the cool night air, keeping you warm as he worships your body, stroking you, kissing you, licking you, fucking you. And even though your weight must take its toll on him, he doesn’t show it, doesn’t let up, pushing into you again and again, filling you, taking you. You are both trying to keep it down, so your heavy breathing can be covered by the sound of the waves, but you would not bet on it working.

He bites your shoulder, suppressing a groan. “I won’t last long, baby, you feel too good. But don’t worry, I’ll make you come as many times as you want tonight. I’ll eat your sweet pussy until you beg me to stop.” You moan, nodding, as he once again sucks a nipple into his mouth. “That’s fair,” you breathe, and Chan chuckles as he seems to again redouble his efforts, railing you against the railing as his breaths become groans rising in pitch until he bites down on your shoulder once more, stilling inside of you.

The two of you stay locked in your embrace for a moment longer, your breaths calming, before Chan tenderly kisses you as he pulls out. Scooping you up into his arms, he lays you down on the blanket and finally removes your bikini top. Drinking in your naked form in the better light provided by the lanterns, Chan strokes his hands up your sides. “There is just something about you that makes it utterly impossible for me to keep my hands to myself,” he says almost wistfully, and then he is between your legs, kissing the insides of your thighs, nuzzling into them, licking his way up to where you need him. Finally, his tongue is on your clit, and he slides two fingers inside of you, and despite the fact that you are deliciously sore from the thorough way he has just fucked you, this is exactly what you need. His tongue writes letters against your clit, every movement unexpected and all the more exciting for it, and the steady rhythm of him finger-fucking you pushes you closer and closer to the edge. God, he looks so good on his knees for you. Your hand tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, and the way he groans into your pussy makes you bite back a moan as well, biting your hand to muffle your sounds of pleasure. Your orgasm crashes over you like the waves below you, unrelenting and unavoidable, and you remove your hand, letting Chan hear your high-pitched moans.

Chan stills his hand to feel the contractions around his fingers, but continues to kitten-lick your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you still, shaking from the stimulation. Only then does he press a handful of kisses to your lower belly and move to join you on the blanket properly, propped up on his side on one elbow, pulling you close and pecking your cheek repeatedly until you turn to slowly, lazily, kiss him. His hand strokes your side again. “That was… Pretty fucking great,” he reminisces, and you can’t help but giggle at the verdict.

“It was,” you agree, dragging your nails up Chan’s veiny forearm, making him shiver. For a moment, the sound of the waves is the only thing you hear. “And you’re here for three more days?” Chan asks, a serious note in his playful tone.

You continue to feel his muscular arms as you nod. “That’s right. Why?”

Chan shrugs – awkwardly, given his current position. “Oh, nothing,” he dismisses the question. “I was just contemplating how often I can fuck you in three days.”

A slow grin spreads across your face. “I’d wager that a low to medium double-digit number could be achieved, don’t you agree?”

Chan’s face mirrors your expression. “Do you want to make a bet?” You shrug. “I’d rather suck your cock.” His expression is a mixture of shyness and surprise before it takes on a devilish note. “Well, in that case,” he says, his hand sliding to cup your arse, "be my guest."

[twstbookclub]

Fleeting Dreams and Paper Rings

Summary: Silver's eyes always remained on you. His memories of you were filled with sunflowers, the warm afternoon sun, and paper rings. His hand always sought yours, and the thin band of gold on your ring finger stirred his heart more than anything else. POV: 2nd Person Pronouns: Gender-neutral Admin/Writer: Cressa🦋 Tags: Romance, Angst, No happy ending, sorry folks, Childhood Love, Unrequited Feelings, Silver Being Too Understanding, Diasomnia Found Family Cameo, Mentioned Vil and Neige, Mentioned Event from Book 5 (no major spoilers), Silver's POV Word Count: 2, 085 The way I struggled thinking of angst for this guy. Fluff is easy with him, but angst? Book 7 is already giving this boy a struggle, and I'm already teetering on the edge of the cliff with this. I'm not sure if this is any good, but I hope yall enjoy it at least. Silver is literally giving fairytale, woodland prince vibes. I'm going to drown this man in fairytale energy, even if it's the last thing I do.

“Silver, c’mere!” Your giggles echoed across a field of sunflowers. The young boy, whose hair glimmered like his namesake, waded through the yellow blooms with a curious look. Silver aurora eyes stared at your smile, stretched from one ear to the other.

Small, chubby hands reached out to place something soft on top of Silver’s head. It also tickled and pricked his forehead. The warm, summer air rustled his silver locks, and his own tiny hands clutched the ring of flowers that adorned his hair. Gentle fingers touched the petals of the sunflowers woven among the stems. A few leaves poked his skin, but he didn’t mind.

“Yay! It looks pretty on you,” you told him with a giggle. Silver watched you clasp your hands behind your back, as you looked at him with a bright beam. “I asked Lilia to teach me how to make flower crowns. Do you like it?”

His cheeks grew warm, not hot to the touch yet enough to color his pale skin. He imagined that knowing look in his father’s eyes. It was an innocent request, most likely born from a wish to make a beautiful gift. As young as the child was, Silver was already aware of his father’s mischievous tendencies.

Without lingering on the thought, he nodded and murmured, “I like it. Thank you…”

The edges of your eyes crinkled, hiding behind the chub of your cheeks. A laugh rang in the silent field of flowers, and Silver was reminded of the tinkling noises of the diurnal fae. You clapped your hands and tugged him to sit down with you. Another story sat at the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be shared with the boy you met in the forest one day. Somehow, you two became inseparable afterwards.

As the sunflowers swayed in the wind, carrying its fragrance and heralding the beginning of summer, the little boy thought your smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

“Silver!”

Gone was the chub in your cheeks, yet your smile remained. Ten-year-old you and Silver sat in his father’s study: trinkets, books, and scrolls bearing untold tales of travel and war within its cabin walls. Scraps of colorful paper, either torn or crumpled or both, littered the mahogany table. Silver noticed that the bright sunlight that illuminated the room glowed with a soft orange now.

“Yes?” He asked, turning to you, only to be met with another wide smile and an excited gleam in your eyes. A paper ring sat in between your thumb and index finger. It was shoddy, obviously the work of a child, but you showed it to him as if it was gold that you unearthed yourself.

“I finally made one!” You cheered, before you beckoned him to give his hand to you. Silver did so without a complaint, and you slid the paper ring on one of his fingers. His heart skipped a beat as your fingers brushed his. He silently prayed that you didn’t hear his breath hitch in his throat. The silence seemed to make him more conscious of his own breathing and heart and everything.

Silver couldn’t help but notice that you put the ring on his left finger, right next to his pinky. He vaguely remembered his father telling him about an ancient belief; how a vein in this finger ran directly to the heart. He didn’t understand it, but his young mind interpreted it as the finger being related to the organ in some way.

“Mommy and daddy both have rings on this finger,” you explained without a falter in your smile. “They said you give someone you really love a ring here. Something about marrying the person you want to be with for life.”

As you looked into his eyes, your smile grew wider, if that was possible. Silver owlishly blinked, listening to your every word amidst the confusing warmth in his chest. His heart thudded, beating loud in his ears. He stared at you without so much as a twitch in his expression, despite what he currently felt.

“Let’s get married when we’re older! I want to have more fun and happy days with you for the rest of my life!”

You cradled Silver’s hand as if it was glass, fragile and valuable. It reminded him of the time when you held a glass of apple juice that Lilia had given you once. Silver felt as if the words would spill out of his mouth, anyway.

“Okay,” he answered softly. The wind could have drowned out his voice, but it rang clear in the quiet study. “I promise. We’ll get married when we’re older.”

You cheered, giggling and laughing and clutching Silver’s hand. Even if it was made of paper, he treasured the ring like a diamond that sparkled under the sun. Even if these were words being exchanged by naive and ignorant children, he held the promise close to his heart.

That day, Silver kept the ring in an empty cookie tin next to the flower crown. Time had not been kind to the gift from his early childhood. The sunflowers have long wilted, and the stems browned and became brittle. The petals and leaves crumbled under a feather-light touch.

Still, the silver-haired boy smiled and kept his treasures next to his bed.

“Silver,” you whispered, standing close to the tall teenager. Your arm brushed against his, while you avoided bumping into the scores of people that flocked Main Street. “It’s really crowded this year, huh?”

Night Raven College opened its gates to the public for the school festival, particularly for the Vocal and Dance Championship—VDC, for short. Silver invited you to the same event last year, and you enjoyed the variety of snacks and games offered by the students. You two even managed to get tickets for VDC then. He thought of inviting you to this year’s school festival. Although, he didn’t expect the surge of visitors this time.

“I’m sorry.” Silver gave you an apologetic smile as he tugged you by the arm. You were pulled away from some squealing and tittering girls that rushed through the crowd. They were screaming about VDC tickets, Vil, and Neige. Fangirls, Silver presumed.

“I didn’t anticipate that this year’s VDC would garner this much attention. Forgive me,” he apologized with a furrow of his brows and a quirk of his lips. His heart skipped a beat when you shook your head and grinned at him.

You never failed to make Silver’s heart do flips and cartwheels with that smile of yours.

“It’s fine,” you hummed and tugged his sleeve with a sheepish smile now, “but… Can you hold my hand, please? I don’t want to lose you in this crowd.”

Silver didn’t hesitate. His hand slid from your arm to your own hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. With a gentle squeeze, he answered, “Of course. Let’s go, then. I still have so much to show you, and we should search for Father while we’re at it.”

“Can we get cotton candy or ice cream on the way? Maybe both?”

You squeezed his hand in return, and that was all Silver needed. Heart fluttering and gaze softening at the sight of you, he pulled you along the street—as if you two were toddlers walking in the sunflower field again.

“Silver,” you called his name in a breathless whisper. Dressed in white silk that dripped with gold, you stood in front of your childhood friend with teary eyes and a wobbly smile. Your hands squeezed his, calloused from years of training under his father’s swordsmanship. His heart stuttered, and his breath hitched at the faint crack in your voice.

Before Silver knew it, you two moved beyond your teenage years. Time took away the awkward slouch of your shoulders and the lopsided quirk of your lips. The years had been kind to you, gracing you with a confident smile that made your face glow softly. Although, that confidence was replaced with something akin to heartfelt pride and joy at the moment.

“Yes?” He whispered in return, soft and warm and fragile. He squeezed your hands back, as if afraid to let you go. Another giggle. Another smile, one that reminded him of the days when you two were simply naive children. The familiar skip of his heartbeat merely softened the smile on Silver’s face.

“Thank you,” you gripped his hands as your lips quivered more and tears gathered in your eyes, “for everything.”

Silver’s heart twinged, before he reached out to wipe your tears away with a thumb. He never let go of your hand the entire time.

Love was sitting in a field of sunflowers and making flower crowns with clumsy, chubby hands in the summer. Love was making paper rings and exchanging promises of marriage in the cabin Silver and his father shared. Love was the taste of cotton candy and ice cream during a festival filled with fireworks and songs.

Love was watching an unrequited love give what was once yours to another—accepting it with a saccharine smile and a bittersweet sting in the heart.

“Of course.” The words easily rolled off Silver’s tongue, like dew sliding off a rose petal. He saw your smile widen, stretching from one ear to the other. Streaks of sunlight illuminated your dressing room, marble and glass encased in the golden glow of morning. Your eyes sparkled like jewels under the light, which reminded him of the diamond-studded band that once sat on your left ring finger.

Silver couldn’t help but let the memory of your paper ring overlap with the engagement ring from Kalim, one of his closest friends.

Before he could say anything else, a chorus of voices called for your name. Both of you turned towards the door where Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek waited. The youngest of the fae had pinched eyebrows and a scowl marring his features. Meanwhile, smiles brightened Lilia’s and Malleus’ faces. The latter appeared happier than the one who was getting married, most likely due to the invitation.

“It’s about to start,” Lilia reminded you with crossed arms and a tilt of his head. Sebek followed with a shrill, “Silver, stop dawdling around! You’re going to bring shame to Lord Malleus and Master Lilia for delaying the celebration!”

“Now, now, Sebek,” Malleus hummed with eyes narrowed in glee and a hand on his chin, “this is a union between Silver’s two friends, after all. Let him spend a few more minutes giving his well-wishes to one of them.”

Lilia tittered, while Sebek relented with a disgruntled, “Of course, Lord Malleus.”

You laughed, the jovial sound bouncing around the marble walls. Silver gawked, drinking in the curve of your smile and the unbridled joy in your eyes. With another squeeze and a tearful goodbye, you left the dressing room with a swish of fabric. Silver let your hands slip from his grasp with a single thought.

He didn’t have the heart to take your happiness away. He couldn’t. He can’t.

His father’s words and the retreating footsteps were all white noise to him. The silver-haired man stared at the empty space you once occupied. Magenta highlights and black locks swayed as Lilia took your place with a few steps. 

A hint of worry shone in those raspberry red eyes, usually brimming with affection for Silver. They still did—they always will. Lilia tilted his head back to look into his son’s eyes, glazed over with a myriad of emotions.

How could a father watch his son crumble where he stood, crushed by the weight of his feelings and loyalty for his friends? Lilia lived a long life—witnessed and experienced more than the average person, whether human or fae—but nothing compared to witnessing his child’s despair.

“Come now,” Lilia whispered with a hand clapping Silver’s shoulder, “you’re the best man, son. You must take your place before the wedding begins.”

“I know, Father,” Silver choked the words out and pressed the heel of his palm over his eye. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Lilia squeezed his shoulder, before he offered a handkerchief from his coat pocket.

With a trembling hand, Silver accepted the square cloth with a quiet, “Thank you. Just… give me some time to recompose myself.”

Choked sobs disturbed the joyous air of a grand, long-awaited ceremony. In the silence of the dressing room, minutes before the beginning of a new chapter for two lovers, a father witnessed the bitter end of his son’s story with his childhood love.

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉��𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ summary﹕you meet luffy's older brother, ace, during breakfast with your crew. and, after an unfortunate day of classes, you and nami go for a night out on the town, meeting a strange older woman.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.6k

┈ ✧.* chapter iii﹕a barside discussion

“Ace!” Luffy shrieked, running across the cafeteria to tackle his older brother.

“Now’s your chance, Nami,” you whispered to the ginger.

A grin spread across her face as she turned to you, wagging a chastising finger.

“First rule of snagging a sugar daddy, my dear,” she jokingly scolded, “is making them come to you. I’ll let Luffy drag him over here, then I’ll pounce.”

“You’re one scary chick,” Zoro commented, mouth stuffed with rice.

“Is that any way to talk to a woman?!” Sanji snarled, slamming his fists down on the table.

“Thank you, Sanji,” Nami huffed, “and I prefer ‘opportunistic,’ for your information!”

You tuned out their tiny scuffle and instead began paying attention to the real fight in front of you, if you could even call it a fight.

Luffy was currently laying on the floor, having been thrown to the ground by his older brother, who was currently yelling at him, after his attempted bear hug. Maybe that’s how they showed affection in their family? The price of their medical bills during childhood might be the real terror in this situation, however.

Nami’s plan for Luffy bringing Ace over was almost correct, being that Ace was the one dragging Luffy over, having him draped over his shoulder.

“Well, well, these must be your friends, aye Luf?” he said, shaking Luffy by his ankle and throwing him to the ground

“Yep!” Luffy yelled, easily shaking off the sudden drop. “That’s Zoro, and that’s Sanji, and that’s Us—”

“And I’m Nami!” Nami interjected, stretching her hand out to shake. “I heard you’re quite the hockey player for Grand Line! Got any sponsorships lined up? Any brand deals?”

“Huh? I mean, yeah, occasionally. I usually blow it all in a week, though, so I’m kinda skint right now,” Ace said sheepishly.

Immediately Nami’s shoulders drooped as her expression fell flat, sinking back into her seat.

“So much for that,” she muttered, resting her chin on her hand, a scowl on her face.

You saw Vivi gingerly patting her back in an attempt to console her, though you weren’t sure she really understood why Nami was upset.

“And who’s this cutie?” Ace asked, clearly with flirtatious intentions in mind.

Interested in what might transpire, you looked up, only to see him looking straight at you.

“Oh, uh, I’m ____,” you stammered, trying to maintain eye contact.

“Ace,” he smirked, “though you probably already knew that.”

“Yeah, Luffy mentioned you in conversation already.”

“He mentioned me, huh? How much do ya know?” he questioned, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Just that you play hockey here and your major, I think,” you answered honestly, trying to recollect your prior conversations with Luffy.

“Sweet! I can still be the mysterious bad boy,” he celebrated aloud before turning back to you. “Well, ya got any interest in hockey? Thinkin’ about watching me play?” 

“I don’t know much about hockey…” you admitted, hoping it wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

Ace let out a barking laugh at that, surprising those at the table.

“All the more reason to come!” he said, grabbing a pen from his bag and scratching something down on a napkin.

“Here,” he offered the napkin to you, “if you have any questions, feel free to text me. Our next game is a week from now. I hope to see you then!”

“Hey!” Luffy pouted, poking Ace’s shoulder. “____ was my friend first!”

“Sorry, Luf!” Ace ruffled his younger brother’s hair. “Ya gotta call dibs on that kind of stuff, ya know?”

Luffy just gave him a puzzled look in response, clearly not gaining the meaning of Ace’s words.

“It was nice meeting you all,” Ace smiled, “you guys are all more than welcome to come to my game, but I’ll definitely be keeping an eye out for you,” he said, giving you a wink.

“And now I’m off! See ya, Luf!” 

Ace shoved a wet finger into Luffy’s ear, earning a shriek from his little brother as he sprinted away from your table, burning rubber with each step.

A moment of silence washed over your table, except for Luffy who was still upset over being wet-willied. Vivi was the first to break it, raising her hand as if to ask a question.

“Are all siblings like this?” she asked, genuine befuddlement crossing her face.

“Nope,” a unanimous decision by the group, it seemed.

Luffy climbed back up to the table, slouching in his spot and looking right up at you.

“Don’t be friends with him, ____!” Luffy demanded. “He doesn’t brush his teeth!”

“Is that the best insult you could come up with?” Usopp questioned.

“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re worried about, Luffy,” you reassured, “the smooth words from a jock won’t win me over that easily.”

Luffy seemed to feel a bit better after your words, a smile slowly rising from his prior frown.

Ace’s words might have enchanted any poor college student looking for a whirlwind romance, but you were aware this wasn’t a chick flick. Although he did seem nice, and you didn’t doubt that his offer was somewhat genuine, you knew he probably just wanted to get in your pants. But you had tests to study for and labs to complete, you couldn’t be bothered with that part of college. At least not yet.

“We should probably get going,” Sanji sighed, standing up from his seat, “we all have classes, right?”

Nami groaned, “Don’t remind me, I already wanna go back to bed.”

“Shit, you’re right, Sanji,” you jumped out of your seat, throwing your bag over your shoulder, “mine starts in ten minutes…”

“Get your ass going, then,” Zoro mumbled, grabbing his bowl of rice.

“Alright, I’ll see you guys later, wish me luck!”

“Bye, ____!” Luffy waved excitedly.

You waved back at all of them, sprinting out to the building in which your next class was held. It was your chemistry lab, a rather dreaded topic. You weren’t sure what struck more fear into your heart, the fact it was for chemistry or that fact that it was a lab. Either way, you weren’t looking forward to this class.

It only took five minutes for you to arrive, giving you some time to look around at the lab. It wasn’t remarkable, definitely a step up from high school ‘labs,’ but no award winning experiments would be taking place here. Just enough for some college students to learn about chemical properties and processes.

Your classmates seemed rather unexceptional as well, but that might just be because you’ve been hanging around your strange friends so much. You’ve grown fond of that strangeness, and seeing the people around you act so normal felt dull in comparison. But that wasn’t their fault, you supposed.

There was one person that stood out to you, however. He looked older than the students here, maybe two or three years older than you? He had a leopard thing going on, with spots on his pants and weird hat. Judging by the lab coat he wore over his jacket, he definitely wasn’t a student for this class. Or maybe he was, and was just a total tryhard. But who were you to judge?

“Good morning, everyone,” the professor spoke, moving to stand directly in front of the class. “I’ll be your lab instructor for this semester. Today you’ll be calculating the density of…”

You quickly tuned your professor out, already knowing what the lab was about. Wasn’t that the purpose of the lab manual? If you read that, you’d probably be fine, right?

“You will have a lab assistant for this semester,” he gestured to Mr. Leopard Print, encouraging him to speak.

The man raised an acknowledging hand, “My name is Law, I’m a biochemistry major and junior here at Grand Line.”

Well, that explained the bags under his eyes. Would that be you in two years? 

“Feel free to ask him or myself any questions while working on this lab,” he instructed.

And with that, you got to work. It wasn’t hard, you were basically just running back and forth between the scale and your station, writing down numbers and prepping for the next step. 

You were, however, having a hard remembering how to read a graduated cylinder. Obviously you were reading from the meniscus, but were you rounding to one decimal place or two? You weren’t listening to the professor’s instructions, but you doubted that they mentioned it during their short lecture. Besides, it wasn’t a difficult question, or at least you didn’t think it was. Asking for help couldn’t hurt.

“Um, excuse me, Law?” you asked politely, turning to the lab assistant.

He glanced and moved towards you, giving your station a quick once-over.

“Sorry, but am I supposed to round to the first or second decimal place? I know it has the tenths place on it, but do I round to that or—”

“Two decimal places for the graduated cylinder,” he quickly responded, crouching down next to you to read your graduated cylinder. “Around 65.14 mL, I would say.”

“Oh, thanks,” you said, watching him stand back up.

Jeez, he really was tall, huh?

You marked the number down on your worksheet, continuing on with your lab. It wasn’t hard work by any means, but given a two hour time constraint you figured you could take your time. You’d rather be the last one done than have bad data, knowing how it would screw you over during calculations.

And the last person you were, rinsing off your lab equipment as the second-to-last student exited the lab, leaving you alone with your professor and lab assistant.

“I’ll have to go compile the class data, but you’re free to leave, Law.” The professor stood, grabbing his clipboard and walking into an adjacent room. 

Law nodded, tugging off his lab coat and slinging his bag over his shoulder, turning to you.

“You done?” Law gruffly gestured to your station, only clean beakers resting on top.

“Yeah, I just have to put these away. If you need to leave, you can, don’t worry about me.”

In response, Law dangled a pair of keys in front of you before crossing his arms.

“Sorry, gotta lock the lab up before I go,” he grunted, cracking his neck, “maybe you’ll keep this in mind for next lab.”

You flushed, embarrassed for wasting his time, hurriedly packing away your notebook and stuffing the glassware inside the drawer.

“Sorry,” you muttered, grabbing your bag and quickly leaving the lab—and Law—behind.

Your next classes were uneventful, and even more boring than your lab. Nobody to catch your eye, only people to compare answers with. Why couldn’t Luffy or Nami switch their majors? You didn’t even have a single class with Chopper, which made sense considering his premed goals, but shouldn’t your classes have collided at least once?

After finishing up your homework, you decided to shoot a text to Nami, knowing that Vivi was probably video-chatting with her dad right now. There was no way you were going to end your night on such a boring note, especially not after being totally embarrassed at your lab. And so, your fingers tapped on Nami’s name in your phone.

| You: hey nam, u free rn? | Read 7:38 PM | Nami: yea just got done w class! ♡ | Nami: need somethin sweetie? ;)

You chuckled at her seemingly flirtatious texts, sending another one her way.

| You: been feeling a little lonely without you baby ;( | You: wanna hang?  | Nami: name a time and a place and i’ll be there bay bee! | You: heard about a place called shakky’s rip-off bar?  | Nami: only if you pay!! ♡♡♡ | You: anything for u bbg  | Nami: meet u there asap!

And with that you tucked your phone away and made your way downtown to Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar.

The bar itself wasn’t anything special, judging from pictures you’d seen online. It was pretty simplistic, no side-rooms or flashy decorations, just a bar in the middle and some cushioned chairs and couches on the side. This wasn’t bad by any means, in fact, it made it the ideal area for a college hangout.

After a short walk downtown you reached Sabaody Street, walking down the sidewalk to get to the bar. Sabaody Street would best be considered a tourist attraction, at least if Red Line received any tourism. It had plenty of overpriced eateries, cafés to small restaurants between each business, which were also extremely overpriced for their services. It made Shakky’s Bar seem out of place, but you hadn’t seen its prices yet, not able to find them online. You could only cross your fingers and pray—

“Hey, babe!” a voice whistled. “Come over here and I’ll show you a good time!”

You immediately stopped in your tracks, throwing a sneer at your catcaller. Behind you, parked in front of a bar, was a gang of bikers. They looked a little older than you, varying from your age to at least four years older.

“A good time?” you scoffed, gesturing at his leather getup. “I don’t need drinks from some gimp who can’t find his dommy mommy.”

His expression faltered to shock, clearly not having thought you would snap back as quick as you did.

Before he could respond, you turned and walked away, catching a glimpse of fiery red hair exiting the bar before you stomped down the street and towards Shakky’s.

“Piece of shit,” you grumbled, shoving open the door to the bar, night ruined before you could even try to salvage it.

You glanced around the bar, spotting Nami sitting up at the bar, ordering from the bartender.

“You got here quick, Nam,” you greeted with a sigh, slinking down beside her.

The ginger faced you, instantly sensing your sour mood.

“Somethin’ happen, ____?” Nami pried.

You frowned, placing your hand on your chin and looking up at the bartender, “Could I get a water, please?”

The bartender nodded, filling you up a glass before stepping away briefly to polish some glasses.

“Just met a catcaller on my way here,” you admitted, taking a sip.

Nami’s face contorted to surprise for only a second before morphing to one of pure rage, standing up from the bar stool.

“Where at?! Are they close? I’ll make sure to turn their face inside out!” she barked, clenching the edge of the bar.

You quickly placed a hand on Nami’s back, ushering her back to her seat.

“Calm down, Nami,” you coaxed, “I gave him a piece of my mind already, I’d rather not watch my friend take on a gaggle of bikers…”

Nami slumped back into her chair, taking a swig of her mimosa.

“Well, I for one think I could take them out,” she pouted.

“And I would be careful with that attitude of yours,” the bartender interrupted. “You never know who you’re picking a fight with, and with the amount of gangs stumbling around in this city, your odds of pissing off the wrong people are pretty high.”

The two of you stared at the older woman, slightly surprised by her unorthodox wisdom.

“...Are you, like, a gang member?” you whispered, earning a dirty look from Nami.

“She wouldn’t tell us if she was,” Nami chided, “and besides, I’ve been involved in gang activity already, I don’t need a speech about it.”

The bartender laughed softly, setting her glass and cloth down next to her.

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t,” she confessed, “but as a bartender I do know a little more than even the average grunt. Let’s just say that liquor loosens lips, yeah?” 

You and Nami nodded slowly at her words.

“Name’s Shakky; I’m the owner of this here bar. Now, I know you young college kids can be impressionable, and with these gangs,” she lit up a cigarette, “only bad things can come about. Stick to your studies, and keep out of these silly squabbles.”

Nami's eyes shined, “Oh yeah? And what have you learned about these gangs, Ms. Shakky? Any rich ones?”

“Mrs. Shakky,” she corrected. “And they all make a substantial amount of money, from what I’ve been told.”

You listened to Nami and Shakky discuss the earnings of gangs, the former clearly looking for an easy cash cow. But you had your own questions.

“Are any of them affiliated with Grand Line?” you asked, fiddling with your glass.

Shakky went quiet for a second before answering, “Yes and no. I wouldn’t say one gang is solely within Grand Line University, but some members may happen to be enrolled. Whitebeard’s gang, for example, is assembled of many different individuals from all walks of life,” she took a drag of her cigarette, “whereas Mama’s gang are all from the same circle, so to speak.”

“Like, from the same neighborhood?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it,” Shakky nodded, “but it would be more accurate to say that they’re from the same womb.”

“So they’re literally a family?”

“Literally a family.”

“Where do they attend school?” You paused. “If they attend school, I guess.”

Shakky put out her cigarette, “The more esteemed members of Mama’s gang attend the Mary Geoiose Institute, but some choose a more active life in the gang.”

“I really can’t believe you’re just a bartender,” Nami interrupted.

“We all have a past, don’t we?” 

“Alright, alright,” Nami put her hands up jokingly, “we’ll take the tab now,”

“It’s on the house,” Shakky smiled, grabbing your glasses. “You gave me time to reminisce, and I consider that payment enough.”

“Sweet!” Nami cheered, grabbing her purse.

“Thanks so much, Shakky.” You passed a twenty dollar bill across the counter, only for Shakky to pass it back.

“Keep it, sweetheart, I doubt college is cheap,” she set the glasses in a sink, “just make sure to come by again, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, giving her a little wave before leaving.

You and Nami exited the bar, walking back down Sabaody Street. Despite the late hour, the street was bustling, nightlife in full action. The two of you passed by the dreaded bar where the bikers once stood, except now only one knocked-over bike remained, joined by a blaring ambulance.

“Oh jeez, what happened there?” Nami asked, rubbing her shoulder in concern.

“For once in my life,” you sighed, “I don’t wanna know.”

“Well, then neither do I!” Nami announced, carefully taking your hand as you walked back to your shared dorm.

The two of you approached your dorm room, gently knocking on the door before slowly opening it.

“Vivi…?” you whispered, peeking into your shared dorm.

Laying on the bottom bunk of the bed, sprawled out in blissful sleep was Vivi. You turned to Nami and placed a finger over your lips, instructing her to be silent.

Sneaking in on your tiptoes, you and Nami quietly put on your pajamas, using the light of your phones to move around.

“Goodnight, Nami,” you mouthed, crawling into your bed.

“Night,” she smiled, giving you a tiny wave from the top of her bunk.

The moment your head hit your pillows, you went out like a light, drifting off to sleep without hesitation.

“That bitch,” the leather-wearing biker spat. “The next time I see her fuckin’ face, I’ll make sure she doesn’t say no.”

“What the hell are ya makin’ a ruckus for?” a booming voice entered.

Exiting the bar was a massive young man, flaming red hair crowning the top of his head, a pair of goggles keeping any stray hairs from escaping. Following behind him was a similarly huge man, long, fluffy blonde hair flowing behind him and reaching down to his lower back, plain t-shirt barely keeping his muscles contained.

“C-Captain Kidd!” The biker quickly stood at attention. “Y-you shoulda seen this chick, actin’ like she was hot shit! When I catch her sorry ass, I’m gonna—”

“Hot shit, huh? What’d she do, spit on your mom?” Kidd barked, approaching the man.

“W-well, no, she—”

“She turned down your ass, didn’t she?” Kidd took another step towards him. “And now here you are, cryin’ and pissin’ yourself over it.”

“I-I just—”

Without another word, Kidd swung his arm up and punched his man straight in the face, knocking him flat to the ground, unconscious.

“Let’s go, fuckers!” he shouted, swinging a leg over his bike.

“Should we call an ambulance or something, Kidd?” the blonde asked, walking over to his own neon blue bike.

“The hell? Do I look like a charity?” he snarled. “We’re gettin’ outta here. Come on, fuck faces!”

Kidd pulled down his goggles and started up his bike, rushing out of the parking lot, followed by his gang of bikers.

“Some broad thinkin’ she’s hot shit, huh?” Kidd laughed to himself, “can’t believe I missed out on the action…”

The blonde pulled up beside Kidd, “I can’t ride forever tonight, Kidd, and I know you can’t either. We have classes, remember?”

“Come on, Killer,” he rolled his eyes, “live a little, why don’t ya?”

“You’re the one paying for the classes. Why attend Grand Line if you’re not even gonna show up?”

Kidd bit his cheek and grumbled, “Fine, we can quit it,”

“Alright, motherfuckers!” Kidd roared. “Fuck off home now! Don’t let me see your asses tonight again!”

Immediately the gang dispersed, each taking their own road home. Only two members were left following Kidd, in addition to Killer.

“Glad you saw reason, Kidd,” Killer grunted.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Kidd snarled, staring straight ahead at the road. “Don’t expect anything else from me. I’m not a fuckin’ charity.”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

[live-laugh-lenney]

Arthur tv one shot were yn does some kind of martial art (defo not specific to me 🤭) and they get injured in a comp and he takes care of them?

thank you! xoxoxo

loving and caring, worried, boyfriend!arthur has me swooning.

arthur remembered it vividly.

the way yn unexpectedly cried out loud once her foot laid flat on the mat beneath her feet, the way she fell to the floor clutching her knee in pain, the way her opponent stepped back out of shock and the way the room fell silent apart from the sobs that came from deep within her chest that bounced off the walls and echoed around the room.

he stood from his seat beside her coach, worry coursing through his veins, his stomach knotting with fear because he'd never seen her in such a vulnerable position before. and as he took timid steps toward where she was curled up on the floor, worming his way through the gaps of those who had rushed to her aid, he could hear her muttering soft profanities and they tried to stretch her leg out.

"i'm her boyfriend, can i sit with her?"

he didn't really know why he had asked that question; he was going to sit with her, and hold her hand, whether they allowed him to or not. he dropped to his knees beside her head, one hand cupping the back of her head whilst his other reached to hold onto one of her hands, a shiver running through her once she felt the familiar touch.

"this hurts so bad," she cries softly, eyes squeezed shut because she couldn't bear the look at those who were creating a fuss around her, "i don't know what happened. i went for a kick, it felt fine, but-"

"let's not worry right now, okay?" arthur says softly, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that were soaking her cheek, tendrils of her hair sticking to her skin from the moisture, "we'll get you checked out at the hospital, yeah? i think someone's called an ambulance."

"no," she frantically shakes her head and it's the first time she opens her eyes, full of tears and panic and arthur's sure he felt his own eyes collecting moisture because he hated seeing her in such a way, "i'm fine, it's just a sprain, i'm sure of it. i didn't do anything harsh to make it break or twist it. i've done that move thousands of times, arthur!"

"i know, i know," he says, watching as a first-aider stretched out and bent up her knee to see any damage that had been done, her winces and groans of pain enough for them to realise she'd done something major enough to require a doctor's opinion, "it's best to get checked, lovie. i'll be with you the whole time, i promise."

"the whole time?"

he nods quickly and she lets out a deep breath through her mouth, a gulp being swallowed back as she looked at where the source of her pain was coming from, no redness or bruising to make her worry but she knew it was something that would keep her from competing for a while.

once the ambulance had arrived and she'd been taken to the nearest hospital to get checked out, pumped full of antibiotics to keep the pain from worsening and to help keep her swelling at bay, she felt a little more at ease. relaxing a little more when she was attached to all the monitors in her own ward, awaiting for her x-ray results, feeling a little drowsy but wanting nothing more than to go home to her own bed and her own home comforts.

arthur stayed by her side, the entire time.

even though she insisted he went home for a little bit, because she didn't know how long she was going to be waiting for, he insisted on staying with her. he didn't want to leave her alone, no when she was so vulnerable and scared and unknowing of what was happening to her knee.

"remember the night george cracked his fat head open?" arthur asks, filling the silent room with something other than the whirring of the machinery and the beeping of her heart monitor, "and we sat with him the entire night whilst he had his head stitched up."

"when chris went for a spin on the wheelchair he found and he nearly ended up in the hospital himself?" yn snickers and arthur laughs out loud, shaking his head at the memory of halloween the previous year, adjusting his seated position in the chair beside her bed, "the man's eyebrow grew back bushier than ever."

he leans forward in his chair and reaches for her hand, squeezing it softly, eyes focused on the pillow that was keeping her knee bent at a more comfier angle than laid flat out, the way she kept wiggling her toes to make sure she still had movement.

"i'm sorry for this," she mutters and he shakes his head, "seriously, i am. you could be back home right now, streaming or doing a video, not sat in the hospital with me and my stupid knee."

"i don't mind," he insists, "at least i know you aren't by yourself. you're my girlfriend, i'd drop everything for you, lovie."

she scrunches her features up and smiles at him, and she squeezes his hand back in response, letting her head drop back against the pillow behind her head.

"it can't be much longer, surely," she wonders and arthur looks at the watch on his wrist, "how long have we been here?"

"a couple of hours, at least," he informs her, "shall i go and find out?"

a sprain.

she was certain it was more than just a simple sprain, given the pain she felt when she first set her foot back on the ground in the gym, but she couldn't have been happier to know it wasn't a break or a fracture or a twist in her knee that required extensive surgery and a lot of physiotherapy to get her walking again. yn was sent back home with antibiotics to treat the swelling and the pain as well as with the strict rule of staying off of her feet for a couple of weeks...

... and arthur insisted she stayed with him.

half of her belongings were at his house, anyway; pants and socks to keep fresh, she could wear his tees to bed, and he had fresh stock of her shampoo and conditioner as well as her favourite body scrubs and washes so it wasn't necessary to stop off at her house. the only thing that felt daunting was the steps that were needed to get to his front door.

"i'll just carry you in the foyer," arthur says as the uber stops outside of his apartment complex and she rolls her eyes, "i'm not having you walk on it. not so soon after it's happened."

"arthur-"

"no," he holds a finger to her lips and she frowns in his direction, "i'll leave your crutches in the reception area and i'll come back and get them when you're settled upstairs. let me look after you, please."

"fine," she huffs and he exits the car, running round the back to help her out of the other side, letting her lean all of her weight on him, "i'm not an invalid though, arthur."

"i know," he smiles, closing the door behind them as the uber drives away back down the road, "i just want to look after you, okay? let me take care of you." xx

[ckret2]

For those of you that still wanna try to meet my impossibly high standards for some reason, I'm still taking title suggestions but here's the updated criteria:

MANDATORY: must include the word Goldilocks, or a "Goldilocks" pun that's SO OBVIOUS it's nigh impossible to NOT hear it. If you have to stretch to hear it, it fails. If there's an unrelated word inserted between "gold" and "lock," fail.

MANDATORY: The Goldilocks reference must be about the Goldilocks principle, the Goldilocks zone, or something else like that and NOT about Bill or the fairy tale. If it's a Goldilocks & the Three Bears reference, automatic fail. If the word "Goldilocks" is being used to refer to Bill, Bill's appearance, Bill's name, Bill's ANYTHING, automatic fail.

"I don't feel like it should be mandatory. It wouldn't bother me if the title doesn't meet these criteria." It's not your title. Please don't send me asks like that, I didn't put those points up for negotiation.

Has to sound like it's about THIS fic. Think of a random different "human Bill's stuck in Gravity Falls and gets a redemption arc" fic. Could the title describe that fic just as well? It's out. Here's the general themes I've thought of if u wanna muse over them.

Bonus points if it's a funny/punny reference to some other phrase in a way that sounds like it would fit in as a Gravity Falls episode title; double major bonus points if the reference actually fits this fic.

The subjective points that still stand from the first criteria list: interesting enough to intrigue new readers; easy to remember (not too long/complicated); actually sounds like a title.

Short & snappy. If you read the title once, left for an hour, and tried to remember it, would you be likely to remember it word-for-word? Is it built in a way that facilitates being easy to remember (like, built on a common phrase or distinctive words)? Or are there a bunch of little prepositions & phrases that risk getting changed or getting their order swapped or left out?

Gotta be better at meeting these criteria than "Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone" is.

The rigid criteria list isn't to be a demanding dick; it's because I know y'all are nicely volunteering help and I don't want you to generously spend your time brainstorming helpful suggestions that I already know I wouldn't take. If you read all that and go "dang! I wanted to suggest something but I can't think of anything that fits," 1) i appreciate that you wanted to help and that's okay you're not obligated to send anything; and 2) you and i are in this boat together 🤝

Mainly I've still got my fingers crossed to the last minute that some stranger will come into my inbox like "lo, the gentle hand of the Greek Muse of Cartoon Fanfiction Titles has touched my mind, and like a prophet I pass this message on to you." Otherwise I don't expect much.