#I wouldn't be here standing and drawing without that song

[ot9snumber1]

siren song

siren!sana minatozaki x reader

summary: dahyun gets your crew shipwrecked. jeongyeon says she's got it under control. you take a walk to clear your head—clearly not the best idea.

warnings: smut, blood, manipulation(?), 2yeon!, implied death(s) but the main one is up to interpretation, i know nothing about pirates nor sirens i'm making things up

notes: just wanted to write something based on the dive teasers and ended up making it way longer than my usual fics,, i also couldn't help but insert misamo in this. u guys know me and misamo...

also, dedicated to the lovely @royaltozaki <3

wc: 3.2k

"damn it!" you yell, kicking a rock in frustration. dahyun trails behind you as you pace around the beach, muttering constant apologies.

"captain—"

"enough! do you realize what you've done?" dahyun shrinks at your tone, nodding and looking even more guilty. "what if we're stranded here forever? you have no idea how hard it is to get rescued—hell, i don't think we have enough supplies to last us two mon—"

you had dahyun cornered against a tree. voice laced with venom, seeing pure red as the younger girl did her best to hold back tears.

your scolding was cut off by jeongyeon putting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." she says, her tone not exactly harsh, but very far from the usual banter she'd have with you.

"lay off the poor girl, will ya?" jeongyeon frowns, moving to stand between you and the newbie. "she's doing her best."

you cross your arms, jaw clenched and staring at her like she was crazy. the taller woman sighs, nodding understadingly. she couldn't blame you for being mad—you were just doing your job as captain, after all. she just wished you wouldn't be so harsh on dahyun.

"look, i've got it covered. jihyo and i are working on the engine, nayeon's preparing lunch for everyone." she says, a gentler tone this time as she puts both hands on your shoulders. no matter that you were the captain now, you'd always be the little girl she and nayeon rescued in her eyes. "take a walk, okay? it's a beautiful island, it'll help clear your mind."

you grumble, looking away to think as you tapped your foot on the sand repeatedly. she's right, you were just letting your frustrations get the best of you. "fine." you mumble, storming off without another word.

jeongyeon sighs.

"i wouldn't worry too much about her," she says as she turns around, putting her hand on dahyun's shoulder this time. "she's just sensitive about this stuff."

dahyun looks at her, puzzled. jeongyeon nods, already knowing what she was going to ask. "she lost her girlfriend—tzuyu—in a wreck a few years ago. it was the one expedition where she wasn't there."

"she's captain now—give 'er some space, okay? she just wants to protect us, you included." jeongyeon reassures her, giving a smile and squeezing her arm before leading the both of them back to where the others were.

—

you curse to yourself as you trip over another root, kicking the tree that it belonged to. you wipe the sand off your front and sleeves, brows furrowing as you take deep breaths.

this definitely wasn't helping, you think. you huff, finding yourself in an area fenced off by rocks. the tide wasn't high, leaving more than enough room for you to sit and draw on the sand.

you sit, the waves barely crashing against the tip of your shoes. you take back what you thought—it was as beautiful and peaceful as jeongyeon described, you were just too stubborn to let it calm you down.

your focus goes to the wet sand in front of you. scooting closer, you shiver when you feel your pants begin to soak. the waves reach your ankles.

you keep staring at the dark sand, watching how the water continues to crash against it. leaving rocks and shells only to bring them back with it the next time a wave crashes.

without giving it much thought, you trace a heart into the sand. the next wave only consumes half of it, you redraw that half quickly.

the initials of you and tzuyu's names are written shortly after, a small smile gracing your face before the wave crashes back and takes tzuyu's inital back with it.

"what's up with you and taking my love, hm?" you scoff and toss a small stone into the water, attention back to the waves that continued to crash against your shoes and the cuffs of your pants.

"this is dumb." you mutter, running a hand through your hair. you cringe when you feel the strands that stuck to your sweaty skin. "jeong was right. mind cleared, time to go." you stand up, not even attempting to wipe the wet sand off your pants. you'd just gross yourself out.

"i don't think you've cleared your mind."

you whip your head around. that wasn't a voice you were familiar with. was your crew followed?

a giggle follows and you shiver, grabbing a small knife from your belt. "i'm not afraid of a fight." you say, getting into a protective stance. "i've taken the loves—"

"i don't care what you've taken." you see something—someone emerge from behind a rock in the water, head just barely peeking above the sea. "unless it's me, of course."

she smiles, her eyes dangerous.

"put that thing down." the mystery woman says, pointing at the knife in your hand. you shake your head.

"i said put it down." she seems to sing through her words this time, kind smile replaced with a deep scowl. you were about to tell her to piss off until you hear a quiet thump beside you.

you look down. when did you drop the knife? you were just holding it with an iron grip just a second ago—

"come here."

you were too busy trying to process what just happened to even realize that your legs were walking towards her.

"what the fuck?" you gasp once the cool water hits your chest. "what do you want? what are you? why are you—"

she laughs once more, finally face-to-face with you. "isn't she cute, girls?" she hums. you feel something wrap around your legs, her arms pulling you closer by the waist.

you look down, going stiff at seeing what exactly was holding your legs together. a tail.

a siren's tail.

you panic instantly, trying to free yourself from her grip. her grin only grows as a hand goes over your mouth and another pair holds your arms together.

you look to your side—another siren, black hair and blunt bangs squishing your face a little too hard. you look to your other side, a third siren, long black hair—long enough to cover her chest—held your arms tight against your body.

you look back to the one in front of you, light brown hair and a stare that burned straight down your core.

"a little feisty, though." the one holding your face says, squeezing a little harder when she feels you open your mouth to protest.

"doesn't matter, they're all the same anyway." the brunette—you assume she was their leader—muses, carefully moving the hand away from your mouth. you open it to say something, but she just shakes her head.

you can't seem to form words after that.

"hm," she whispers, face just inches from yours as she gets lost in thought.

"momo, mina, leave. this one's mine." she commands. they leave your side almost instantly, you sigh out of relief when you regain control over your arms.

"bring leftovers home for us, yeah, sana?" momo quips before disappearing into the water with mina.

you look back to sana. she was still staring straight through you, her gaze never left. not even to bid her girls goodbye.

"sana is a pretty name." the words leave your mouth before you can even think. what the hell were you doing? she was about to kill you, for fuck's sake!

the siren raises her eyebrows, a seductive smile gracing her face. "you're not concerned that she implied that i'm going to eat you?"

she observes you. every breath you take, every blink and every time you have to peel your eyes away from her cleavage. nothing goes undetected in her eyes.

you take the time to think. what exactly were you feeling? you were tzuyu's. you swore you always would be, no matter what. it's not like you were committing to anything with the creature holding you captive. hell, you were 100% sure she'd just gotten into your head.

jeongyeon had always warned you about sirens, but you never believed her. in your eyes, she was just trying to keep you from getting out of her sight.

now you couldn't keep your eyes away from sana.

maybe you were just sexually frustrated. she is very attractive for a monster known to kill pirates. then again, that's how they get 'em. or you're just bored. maybe it's both.

"...no?" you'd given the answer much thought, yet you were still unsure. sana feels her hunger and desire grow tenfold.

she grins again and you catch a glimpse of her razor sharp canines. "for a captain, you're really stupid. i like you." she hums, giving you exactly a second to process her words before crashing her lips onto yours.

this was wrong, so terribly wrong. you were kissing someone that wasn't your tzu and breaking the promise you made to jeongyeon about not daring to look at a siren.

you tense up and she notices, prompting her to move a hand to your neck and hold you still. unsurprisingly, her touch was ice cold. you moan involuntarily at that.

she wasn't even choking you or anything, she just felt so good against you.

"not so bad, huh?" she whispers when she pulls away to grant you a breath. sana hums something you couldn't comprehend and you nod, the action completely out of your control. "mhm, that's what i wanted to see."

you finally gave up trying to distinguish what were your choices and what was controlled by her song. your body belonged to her now, as far as the both of you knew.

sana kisses you again, trying not to smile too much when you sigh into it. her tongue swipes against your bottom lip, making you whine against her mouth once more.

you part your lips, wanting to feel her tongue against yours. instead, you feel her sharpest teeth pierce the skin of it.

you pull away, hating the taste of blood. you watch it drip down to the water before looking up at sana, her mouth dripping in your blood too.

"what? it hurts?" she grins, leaning in for another taste. "let's get you cleaned up, then." you have no time to respond before you're pushed into the water. (thankfully, you screwed your eyes shut before she did so.)

the wound on your lip stings. you try to swim up, but sana just pulls you back down and continues kissing you like it were nothing. her tongue goes in and out, you can feel her sharp nails scratching against your waist. at least her lips on yours distracted you from the pain of it all.

you feel her lips on your neck. your breath would hitch, but you can't breathe—you don't want to breathe. not necessarily craving death, but if it meant you'd never have to live with the fact you were letting this happen, it didn't sound terrible to you.

you're pulled back up, but she hardly lets you breathe anyway. one hand on the collar of your dress shirt, stopping you from escaping (as if you were trying to) and another rubbing your pussy through your pants. you weren't her first victim, you were sure of it now.

"wait—wait, sana—"

she finally pulls back for more than a second, pouting. "it's not very fun if i give you everything you want."

you raise an eyebrow, panting as you wipe blood off your lips. "this is the first time you've let me breathe since you pulled me into the water."

sana tilts her head, biting her lip as she looks away from your bleeding lip and up to your eyes. "cute. i can only give you one thing, you know? that's how we keep it fun, darling."

"now choose: the ability to breathe freely," she seems uninterested as she tears the buttons off your soaked shirt. "or let me do whatever i want?"

her eyes flit back up to you.

"well?"

"i was told to kill your kind, you know."

sana laughs again, backing you up against a large rock. it was incredibly attractive, like listening to death come collect your soul.

—

jeongyeon frowns when she sees that nayeon still hadn't touched her food, nor had she even sat down after telling everyone lunch was ready.

she gets down on the shore again, walking towards nayeon. the older woman was just standing, barefoot on the sand and letting the waves cover them in sand.

"worried about her?" jeongyeon asks, voice as gentle as the shore as she stands beside her lover. nayeon nods, leaning her head on her shoulder. "of course i am."

"she's strong, nay. she'll come back and forgive dahyun, trust me."

"not about that, jeong." nayeon mutters, fiddling with her necklace now. jeongyeon purses her lips.

"give her ten more minutes before i look for her, okay?"

nayeon nods, feeling a small weight lift off her chest. "okay."

—

"fuuuck, sana!" you groan as her tongue swirls around your nipple, her fingers pinching the other. you take a fistful of her wet hair and desperately attempt to push her head down to your pussy.

"got somewhere else to be?" she asks, her free hand replacing her lips as she straightens up. "...yes. your head has somewhere else to be, too." you mumble in frustration, face flushed.

"right." sana teases, opting to suck more hickeys into your neck instead. you were even more pissed now, but you found yourself too weak to protest against how fast she wanted to do things. she licks the fresh mark, making you whine.

"you hungry? your mom was making you lunch before this, no?"

"she's not my mom!" you reply, your mind wondering how sana knew about nayeon. then again, she'd probably been stalking you since you got shipwrecked here. "and i'm not hungry."

"i am." sana husks against your ear, chest heaving against yours. you tense up again. "calm down, i'm not going to devour you like that."

"not yet at least." she mumbles as she undoes your pants. you didn't allow yourself to laugh. "not funny." you mumble, she shrugs. "wasn't trying to be, darling."

sana lowers herself, kissing across your stomach while pulling your pants down. she takes your hands and forces you to hold them together. "do not touch me."

you weren't going to anyway, in fear of her using her song on you again. you learn to stop trying to predict her behavior. now you physically couldn't let go of your hands, just watching helplessly as sana descended into the water.

your leg gets thrown over her shoulder and she immediately latches onto your clit.

you hiss, her mouth warm compared to the cool water enveloping your entire lower half. you hear her faint giggles as her nails dig into your thigh, lapping up as much of you as she could.

her tongue was moving faster than you could think—in and out, swirling around your clit, moving anywhere and everywhere to coax those delicious sounds out of you. she was a relentless predator and you were just meek prey.

you whine through clenched teeth when you feel yourself rapidly approaching your climax. you didn't want to cum for her at all—much less give her the satisfaction of making you do so this quickly, but everything about her was so alluring and you were incredibly desperate to feel something after so long.

you make the mistake of looking down at her, bucking your hips up when you realize her eyes were still on you the whole time.

she lifts you up out of the water, both of your legs over her shoulders while her hands moved to steady your hips. you were practically laying on the smooth rock, hissing from the slight burn it gave you.

the filthy sound of sana eating you out was much easier for you to hear now and it drove you crazy. your thighs close around her head as you continue grinding against her face, making her smile against your lips. "cum, darling. don't be so scared of me." sana whispers, breath hot against you.

you stop fighting against it, cumming hard when she kisses your clit. your body relaxes quickly after, panting and focusing on trying to form a coherent thought that you didn't bother to notice sana was singing again.

sighing out of relief when you realize she was giving you control over your hands again, you lean up slightly only to see her climbing on top of you.

"we're not done, captain." she whispers against your wounded lips, capturing them in another kiss.

you try not to cringe at the feeling of her slimy tail against your legs.

—

"y/n, it's not funny anymore. you're going to give nayeon a heart attack!" jeongyeon calls out, sighing when you're not hiding out in a clearing amidst the trees.

it's been nearly an hour since she started looking for you. how far out could you have gone?

jeongyeon continues walking, her pace quickening the more she thinks about finding you passed out on the ground. she'd never forgive herself if anything happened—going on a walk to clear your head was her idea after all. (she'd never forgive herself for how nayeon would react, either.)

"y/n, i'm serious!" she calls out once more, reaching another part of the beach. her heartbeat quickens once she sees footprints.

—

your hands were on sana's boobs, one massaging and the other pinching at her nipple. she moans into your mouth, her hands going over yours.

"rougher, darling. how many times do i have to tell you?" sana says, smiling when she sees how tired you were when she pulled away from your lips. you were doing your best to catch your breath, hating that you couldn't keep up with sana.

it's not like you could shove her off you and kill her anyway, you could hardly move your legs as is. you hate that you fell into her trap—that you let her plan unfold.

there wasn't a single merciful bone in her body either. she was only keeping you alive to torture you at this point.

sana's lips reattach to your neck, kissing harshly but not leaving any more marks for the sake of keeping your head attached to your body.

her ears perk up when she hears someone calling your name from a distance, the fins extending as she looked towards the direction of the voice. you did too, heart dropping at the sight of jeongyeon looking around and yelling your name. you pray that sana dragged you out far enough for her not to spot you like this.

"ah, what a shame. that's our cue, darling." sana hums, letting herself fall back into the water and pulling you with her. you struggle against her grip, using the last of your strength to push her away. still, she was hardly exhausted. she easily captures you once more, holding you tight and forcing you to watch jeongyeon's figure on the shore grow smaller and smaller.

"don't worry, it's not the end for you yet." sana whispers, her lips grazing your ear. "you've been my favorite to ruin, darling."

you feel tears run down your cheek as you both submerge under the water once more. you don't bother to close your eyes anymore, the ocean didn't sting as much as it did years ago anyway.

sana sings again, her voice muffled in your ears. everything goes dark the second after she stops.

"rest up, darling." sana smiles, her arms tightening around you.

[glittergelpensblog]

Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader) Part Two

Part two! Thank you so much for all of the support for part one! I have so many ideas for this series and can’t wait to see where it takes me :)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2,577

Part One

It wasn't until you felt Elain's hand on your back that you finally let go of Feyre.

"Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room." Elain spoke.

Mrs. Laurent looked like she wanted to do no such thing, glancing between the three of you. It was with one final glare to Feyre that she turned around and made her way to the kitchen.

_____________________________________________________________

Elain and Nesta sat on the opposite side of you and Feyre. Everyone quiet, too scared to speak, too scared to find out what made your sister return home.

It was she who finally broke the silence, "Where is father?"

"In Neva," Nestas voice was sharp. " Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world and attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you've come back to warn us about."

You drew in sharp breath. A threat above the wall? Why hadn't Nesta mentioned that to you? Why didn't she tell you anything?

"Whatever the reason, Feyre," Elain spoke softly. "We are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were--"

"I never thought that." You sent a look to Elain before your gaze met Nesta's. You knew it was coming, knew the look in her eyes.

But before she could snap back at you, words bound to be as sharp as knives, Feyre pulled down the hood of her cloak down.

Elain's hands immediately began shaking, teacup rattling in her saucer. Your eyes widened as you took in your sister. Her slimmer figure, her taller stature. Her ears.

She was Fae.

"I was dead. I was dead, and then I was reborn--remade." Feyre's voice shook.

Elain set down her cup and Nesta angled herself, the movement barely noticeable, between them and Feyre. Her hand slightly stretching out, as if she wanted to take you behind her as well.

Feyre did nothing but hold her gaze with Nesta. "I need you to listen."

You were silent as she told her story. She spoke of the trials Under the Mountain, about Amarantha, how the red-headed witch had killed her, and then how the other Fae gave her back her life. She briefly mentioned leaving Tamlin and her new life in the Night Court. Her job with the High Lord. She explained why she was back. The threat at the border. Hybern. What she needed you to help her with.

You knew Feyre was different the moment you saw her. Yes, she was beautiful, almost glowing. But you knew something was wrong. You saw it in her eyes, her tight lipped smile. You felt it in the way she barely hugged you back. The horrors she endured, they had changed her, had taken her warmth.

"You--you want other High Fae to come... here. And... the Queens of the Realm." Elain's soft voice was nearly shaking.

"When?" you asked, not bothering to look at your other sisters, your gaze only on Feyre.

"Find somewhere else." Nesta spat.

Feyre turned to face Nesta, getting ready to speak again.

But Nesta wouldn't allow her. "Find somewhere else. I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain. Or near Y/N."

"Nesta, please," Feyre begged, "There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me--"

"And what of us? When the people around here learn we're Fae sympathizers? Are we any better than Children of the Blessed, then?"

"Because they cared so much about us when we were starving!" You snapped. "When we were nothing but a poor, dirty family in a rotting cottage? Why do we care what they think when they never cared for us?"

Nesta ignored you yet again. "Any standing, any influence we have--gone. And Elain's wedding--"

"Wedding?" Feyre blurted, eyes scanning Elain's left hand, the dark iron wrapped around her finger.

"In five months," Nesta said. "She's marrying a lord's son. And his father has devoted his life to hunting down your kind when they cross the wall. So there will be no meeting here. There will be no Fae in this house."

"Do you include me in that declaration?" Feyre's voice was quiet, the answer found in Nesta's silence.

Your mind was a blur as you took it all in. The Fae are what took Feyre, what had taken many lives before hers. They would cross the wall to torture, to kill, the Beddors a recent wound still fresh in your Village's mind. But the Fae had also saved Feyre, gave her life. If they truly were as bad as human's thought, then why did Tamlin spare Feyre's life? Why did the High Lords resurrect her?

"Nesta," Elaine spoke again, "If... if we do not help Feyre, there won't be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan's battlements and all his men, couldn't save me from... from them. We keep it secret-- we send the servants away. With spring approaching, they'll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she'll send word ahead, and we'll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won't be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know."

"There is no other way." Feyre held her gaze with Nesta.

"We'll send the servants away tomorrow." Nesta said.

"Today, we don't have any time to lose. Order them to leave now."

"I'll do it." Elain stood, brushing off her skirts.

"I'll help," You joined, following your sister into the kitchen, mind racing with a million thoughts. You would never get Feyre back, never the way you thought you would. You would never live together again, never have her head against your shoulder as you played the piano late at night. There was no way she could come back, not with her new found life.

You pushed back the tears in your eyes as you approached Mrs. Laurent.

______________________________________________________________

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked Nesta.

Feyre was still in the drawing room when you called Nesta from the hall, feigning that you needed assistance with getting something out of your Father's study.

"Why didn't I tell you what?" Nesta said.

"What Father was truly doing in Neva? That there was a threat above the wall. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like you could've done anything," Nesta's voice was low. "There is nothing you could've done but worry."

"We could've helped, like we are right now--"

"Which we shouldn't be doing! We are putting ourselves in jeopardy--"

"As Feyre did for us," You glowered, "As she did every day in those woods, nearly freezing to death every winter. For us. We are helping Feyre in the way she helped us, in the way she kept us alive!"

"All of the servants have left," Elain's soft voice interrupted, saving you from the next cruel words to spew from Nesta's mouth. "Feyre said there are others here, for us to meet."

You followed Elain into the drawing room.

______________________________________________________________

Feyre entered the room, cloak gone, and you couldn't help but stare at your sister. This was her life now. She wore an intricate gown, probably worth more than you and your sister's gowns combined. Her body was adorned with jewelry, including a crown at the top of her head.

Behind her stood three men, the first, in the middle, seeming to radiate power, the High Lord, you assumed. His dark hair and fine black clothes contrasted with his violet, almost glowing, eyes. The one to his left seemed wild, ancient. He wore an outfit made of leather, adorned with glowing red jewels on his hands, chest, and shoulders, his dark brown hair almost reaching them. And he had wings, giant wings, almost like a bat's.

And to the High Lord's right was what had to be the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was dressed similarly to the man on the left, wearing black leathers, but with blue gems rather than red. His face was narrow, sharp, expression calm as he looked at you and your sisters. His dark hair slightly covering his forehead, a strand nearing his hazel eyes. Like the other male, he also had large, bat-like wings.

You tucked your head down as Nesta stepped in front of you and Elain.

Feyre stopped a few feet in front of you before she spoke, "My sisters, Y/N, Nesta, and Elain Archeron." She paused, allowing you all to take in the men before you.

"Cassian," She gestured to the man on the left, then slightly turning to the right, "Azriel, and Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. "

You stood silent, surveying the powerful men. The hairs on you neck stood, and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to calm yourself. Though the were Fae, they wouldn't hurt you. They had taken in Feyre, cared for her. And they were here to protect you.

Rhysand bowed to you and your sisters. "Thank you for your hospitality--and generosity," A warm smile graced his features.

You smiled back at him, and the other two men. "It is nice to meet you," You fought to keep your voice steady.

Nesta looked at Feyre, then the men. "The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold." She said before she strode off to the dining room

You followed Elain out as she sputtered a "Nice to meet you" to the three men.

Nesta sat at the head of the table, Elain to her left, and you took the right. Feyre sat beside you and Cassian next to Elain, Azriel on this other side. Rhysand slid into the seat next to Feyre .

The two winged males struggled to sit, adjusting their large wings with the back of the chair.

"Would you like a stool?" You asked, noticing their efforts to remain comfortable.

Nesta scoffed at your gesture

"Thank you, but we'll be fine." Cassisan said to you with a reassuring smile.

Feyre was the first to open the dishes of steaming food. Everyone was silent as they began preparing their plates and eating.

Nesta eyed Feyre as the latter took a bite, struggling to chew.

"Is there something wrong with our food?" Nesta clipped.

"No," Feyre replied, reaching for her water, her face slightly tinged pink.

"So you can't eat normal food anymore--or are you too good for it?"

Nesta truly could not leave it alone for one night. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even."

Your face became hot as you blushed at your sister's words, and you heard Cassian nearly choke on his water. Nesta just laughed lowly.

It was Rhys who intervened, attempting to diffuse the building argument. "If you ever come to Prythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different."

You didn't even know visiting Prythian was an option. Perhaps there was hope that you would be able to see your sister outside of the circumstances you were in.

Nesta's glare shifted from Feyre to Rhys. "I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I'll have to take your word for it."

"Nesta, please," Elain whispered.

Nesta ignored her, looking at Cassian who was assessing her with a smirk on his lips. "What are you looking at?"

Cassian's brows rose, the amusement on his face gone. "Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while the other youngest dealt with sleazy men at the pubs, all while you did nothing. " Your face flushed at his words, not knowing what Feyre had told them of you. "Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died--died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don't expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make--and insult my people in the process."

Nesta ignored him and turned to Feyre, Cassian's face filling with rage.

"It... it is very hard, you understand, to... accept it," Elain spoke to him, "We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered... it's all very disorienting."

"We know you are not here to hurt us," Your voice was steady a you looked between the three men, "But it is rare we experience Fae who are to help and not hurt."

"I can imagine," Azriel spoke, the first you had heard his voice the entire night.

"Nesta and I did not know what to do, how to work or hunt. Our lives were taken from us overnight. We were scared, had received no training, we failed them. Both of us." Elain said.

Feyre turned to face Nesta. "Can we just... start over?"

It looked as if it took everything in Nesta to back down. "Fine."

"Can you really fly?" Elain took Cassian's attention from Nesta.

The rest of the dinner went well after that, Nesta being as civilized as she got while the Fae explained their magic, the Illyrian race, and "Lesser Faeries" or Cassian called them. The meal was ended with a discussion of the sleeping arrangements for the night, Nesta assigning you the task of showing them their rooms before they began working on their letter to the queens.

After you had given them the directions to their rooms, you pulled Feyre aside while the three men began their work, most likely eavesdropping on your conversation.

"I missed you," You spoke, gently grabbing Feyre's hand, "How are you, truly?"

There was a long pause before she replied, "I don't know how to feel... I don't think I know how to feel. What happened Under the Mountain, the horrors I had endured... I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

"Is it better, at the Night Court?"

Feyre breathed deeply, looking out the window, up towards the night sky.

"With Tamlin, it was like I was drowning, suffocating. Everywhere I went there were sentries behind me. I was never left alone, I couldn't leave the house. What happened Under the Mountain broke me, but living in that house, it felt like I was trapped under there all over again.

"At the Night Court, I feel... free, I suppose. There's no breathing down my shoulder, no one telling me what I cannot do, where I cannot go. What people think of what I do doesn't matter. I have a job, people to protect... but it doesn't feel like a burden, I don't know what it feels like..."

A purpose.

"What Rhysand said, about visiting Prythian..." Your voice was barely above a whisper, a dream you were too scared to say aloud, like telling one a wish so it wouldn't become true. "Can that actually happen, can I actually visit you there?"

Feyre struggled to keep the tears in her eyes, you were so full of hope, so full of life, of innocence.

She couldn't let you visit, not right now, with war so close. She needed you here, safe.

"Maybe someday in the future, when things are safe. When this war is done with. Maybe then, you can come see me."

"I would love that."

"I would too."

______________________________________________________________

Tag list: @lizziesfirstwife @waytoomanyteenagefeels @starryhiraeth @knmendiola @bionic-donut @caosfanblr @lena-davina @starriestarlight @younxii @starsdoulikedem @lucyysthings @esposadomd @naturakaashi @carolinaflicker @missusbarnes-rogers @vlysseve @lollipop974 @whydohumansss @spaxxxi

[lowkeyrobin]

JJ MAYBANK ; i remember everything

summary ; after returning home, you & jj get in a fight after you try and ignore the presence of john b and sarah ; a part two to replacement

warnings ; language, physical fighting, 2nd person pov is omniscient and reveals that reader blames themselves / they're in the wrong

disclaimers ; never finished s3 bc it was so boring and idk what's going on w s4, so they're back home safe and without any gold I guess. the story will be that they're all waiting for court dates or smthn lol

track ; i remember everything, zach bryan & kacey musgraves

word count ; 1.6k

masterlist ; part one

You sit on the sand, the water creeping up on your sneakers as you're fully dressed and just out of school. You think in silence, your eyes glazed over as you stare out at the horizon. You'd texted your friends that you were coming down here. You had a rough day, you just needed some alone time for a while to sit with your thoughts.

You think back to your real friends, the ones who didn't like you just because you were a walking yes button.

You remember how Kie and Pope clearly wanted to talk to you, but JJ always needed to step up and be an ass. You wished you could've just tried to speak to them, you didn't realize that they'd be leaving for good, apparently.

It'd been four months, you'd become more worried than ever. Your texts and calls were always left sent and unanswered, any attempt of constact futile. Kie's and Pope's parents were obviously the most worried as their children had run off with no trace.

They'd interrogated you over and over to no avail, as you didn't know anything. They just kinda left without you.

You wished you would've just for a second believed that maybe John B and Sarah were okay, but no, you had to start a fight. It was your fault, who were you kidding?

You remember the beat-down basement couch at JJ's that you all lounged on the few times when his dad wasn't around. You remember the time when you sang love songs to JJ as practice while he'd tell you about how his mom ran off and pawned her ring.

You remember that last smile, he only smiled like that when he was drinking.

Every time you thought of him, though, you smelt CrazyArt crayons, the ones that didn't even draw, you saw the same brown carpet that needed replacing years ago. Vertical wood in the hallway to paint the walls, it was engraved in your mind. You remember the dead flowers resting over the sink in the little windowsill above it, having been dead for months at least. They were completely wilted, most of the petals having fallen off, the glass vase stained with a little brown line across where the water sat still.

He probably didn't feel anything about it now, but you felt like you were driving through a hurricane. You felt like those dead flowers on JJ's kitchen windowsill, dead yet still not thrown away yet.

You lay back on the sand, your limbs sprawled out like a sad starfish. You pull your knees up, solidifying your spot in the sand. The grain knots itself into your hair, which wouldn't come out completely for a solid week since you learned the hard way long ago.

After twenty or so minutes of staring into the afternoon sky, you sit back up, attempt to shake any loose sand out of your hair, and stand up, gathering your thoughts in the process. You walk up the beach, returning to the road where your bike is perched on the curb. You hop on and peddle your way back home, cutting through town to do so.

You hoped a cold shower on this hot day would relieve you of the burning sensation on your skin, or at least help with your overwhelming, guilty thoughts. As you ride, you notice a few people walking down the sidewalk in front of you, thankfully leaving you some room to go past them.

As you grow closer, you notice their faces belong to those of your friends and an extra, for some reason. You smoothly swerve to the right, past Kie, not paying them any mind.

JJ minded, though, having tried to send a smile your way, for whatever reason. Kie did as well, as she opened her mouth to say hello.

"Hey, Y/n!" She defeatedly waves, letting her hand rest at her side as she watches you ride away.

You, out of fear and surprise, hide the sight away in your mind, because they were definitely your friends, or used to be your friends. Either way, they were home.

The next day, you had your headphones on while riding around town on your bike. You decided to enjoy some Zach Bryan and the heat, considering it was Saturday. You didn't end up going to that party with your friends, you just felt too groggy and gross after seeing them again.

You stop for a minute at Twist & Shake, wanting to get some French fries and some of that pineapple Dole Whip ice cream you'd been craving. You pull into the little parking lot and lean your bike against the building's right wall, not wanting to fight with the stand at the moment. You grab your wallet out of your back pocket and pull your headphones down around your neck, walking up to the order window.

You place your order and stand off to the side of the pickup window, hoping that no one was actively stealing your bike since it wasn't in view. You see a group of teens your age walk up to the window, of course, your old friends. You quickly turn your head away after getting a glance of them, tapping your foot on the pavement impatiently as you wait for your food.

"Y/n, oh my God, hi!" Sarah smiles, waving at you.

Her smile falters as you stare down at your feet, arms crossed as you wait. Her blonde hair frames her saddened face as she looks over at John B and Kie with a confused look. She looks hurt, she'd never left anything off on horrible terms with you, even if, lightly bad. She thought you were friends now.

Kie shrugs, pulling a twenty from her pocket as John B turns to JJ and Pope. Kie and Cleo lean against the sill against the ordering window as they order for themselves and their friends.

JJ rolls his eyes. "I told you, they replaced us"

"What do you mean?" Sarah asks, "I- They aren't here with anyone? What happened? Did we do something?-"

"No, they did something," JJ clarifies, "We got in a fight, and now they won't talk to any of us, like I said."

Pope shakes his head, "You got in a fight with them," He corrects, "They had a right to be suspicious about if they were really alive. They've been through enough, JJ. If you even cared, you'd notice that, but you had to put yourself first-"

"I didn't put myself first, I put John B and Sarah first!-"

John B rests a hand on JJ's shoulder, silently telling him to back off and calm down. The blonde stops himself, taking a breath.

"Try speaking up, maybe they didn't hear you" Pope hopefully says to Sarah, seeing her desperation to talk to you again.

"Y/n?" Sarah calls, making sure she's loud enough for you to hear. "Hey, it's me, Sarah?"

You continue to ignore her, feeling guilty as you do so. You just weren't ready to speak to them yet, you already felt awful but you didn't realize you were only making it worse.

JJ, now upset, walks up to you, shoving your shoulder. You look up at him, nearly glaring at him.

"Fuck is your problem?" He asks, "John B and Sarah are alive and you're gonna ignore them? You're gonna ignore us?"

"I'm not ignoring you. I don't want anything to do with you" You mumble, "Leave me alone"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" JJ asks, "You're seriously still doing this shit? You really never cared, did you?"

"Shut up, JJ. It's almost like I don't wanna fucking talk to you right now-"

"Yeah, cause you replaced your actual friends, you peace of shit." He spits, "Shows how much you care"

You push him away, not wanting to interact. Kie turns her head as the employee hands her change back, seeing you push the blonde away from you.

"Guys?-"

JJ pushes you back with a snarky comment. You push him back, cursing him out for some blind sighted reason.

He responds with a punch to your face, urging Pope, Kie, and John B to try and pull him away from you as you hit him back. Cleo and Sarah rush to your side, trying to pull you away as well, both parties unsuccessful.

Shouting, gasps, and yells fill the air as you two hit each other over and over, yelling profanities back and forth. You end up tackling him to the ground somehow, the three behind him stepping back as he falls. You straddle him, landing blow after blow on him, like revenge for that fight months ago.

His face is bloodied, and in that moment, you pull yourself away, realizing that look in his eyes. You'd become his father. In some alternate universe, you were the abuser all along. You stand up, falling into Sarah's and Cleo's open arms. Shit, you didn't even know Cleo, but here she was, letting you fall into her.

JJ glares at you, wiping the blood pouring from his nose.

Pope shares a look with John B, then you, an apologetic and slightly scared expression in your eyes. You didn't even know why you did it, you couldn't even feel yourself when you did it.

"What the fuck?" Kie nearly shouts, looking between you and the blonde. "It is never that serious to fight in a parking lot of Twist & Shake"

"Apparently, it is." You spit, walking away to grab your food before you're kicked off the property. "I didn't replace you. I don't wanna die trying to save some gold, that's it. See you later, " you grumble, walking away with a sore eye and knuckles.

The group, minus JJ, share confused and worried looks, watching you glide away on your bicycle.

"Jesus Christ..."

[merbear25]

Anxiety is talked about fairly often, but some don't know how to handle a s/o or friend who struggles with it. That being said, those who care about you are willing to learn!

Monster trio, Robin, Chopper, Franky, Brook, Law

CW: SFW, headcanons, mentions of general and social anxiety. Zoro's and Law's parts don't start out that comforting. There can be different things that can trigger it (sometimes nothing necessarily triggers it!) so this is kept more broad. It's kind of a specific headcanon, but it's something I personally struggle with and maybe others can relate.

Luffy: It takes him time to realize how hard some situations are for you, and even then, it's not something he'll fully be abe to understand. But he doesn't need to understand in order to care about you and consider your feelings! He'll help you in anyway he can. If you're having a hard time coping with the rough seas, he'll draw your attention to him. You're feeling overwhelmed at a gathering? He'll stay nearby, giving you a sense of stability in the hurdles you're currently up against.

Zoro: He'd be able to notice something's different about you. However, he may be someone who didn't quite believe in anxiety (at least not in the regard of a disorder). That being said, when he started spending more time with you, it became blatently obvious that it was, in fact, something to be taken more seriously. Once realizing this, he'd be more considerate towards you. He wouldn't really be hands on when helping you, but he'd hover around, just making sure everything is okay.

Sanji: You'd have his undying support. Similarly to Luffy, he wouldn't fully be able to grasp the extend of your problems, although that's not obligitory when it comes to caring about the ones you love. He'd be more than willing to listen to what triggers you and would help you find coping methods to help push you through rough patches. He's a doer and wants to help you find ways to ease your troubled mind.

Robin: Similaryly to Zoro, she would have sensed something was going on with you, especially if your anxiety flares up during more social events. When she notices, she'd be tacktful when approaching the issue; she wouldn't want to make you feel singled out. She's always happy to learn about her friends and the ways they think, so you could open up to her without fear of judgement.

Chopper: He'd know better than anyone here just how hard social anxiety is. Being as empathetic as he is, he'd sob for you when you mention your qualms. Despite this initial reaction, he is still a doctor and is dedicated to helping people. Sure, his specialty doesn't lie in psychology, but he'd be determined to find something, anything, to aid you. He'd be a stand-in emotional support reindeer if you really needed it.

Franky: He's an extremely friendly, silly, and sociable cyborg, though that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to tone it down when he sees someone he cares about going through a hard time. Being a doer like Sanji, he would look for solutions to your problem. He'd opt for sillier antics when it comes to keeping your mind off of things, which may or may not be the most helpful. Either way, everything he does is in good faith.

Brook: If you're a music lover, he'd opt for playing your favorite song to get your mind off of things. He finds it soothing and figures you would too. He'd check up on you through out the day, giving you space if that's what you need. If you'd rather talk or vent about it, he wouldn't object to it. He wouldn't mind if you end up talking his ear off, not that he has ears.

Law: Being a doctor, he'd know better than to just dismiss your issues, but dealing with emotions is not his forte. He'd probably start out keeping himself at arms length from you, observing how you handle each wave of anxiety. In doing this, he'd gain a better understanding of how to approach you. This may come across as him out right avoiding you, though. Once he has a better idea of how to handle you during, and outside of, these flare-ups, he'd helicopter around you, taking out some of the things that'd set you off when he can.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Possibility of a Johnson thing with a plushy reader based on the song Crush by Cigarettes After Sex?

Feel Your Love Crush - Johnson/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, the reader has self-esteem issues but they're overcome, oral sex, brief fingering as prep, sex.

Wordcount: 3436

Summary: He was always surrounded by the most beautiful people you'd ever seen, so what made him look only at you whenever you were with him? You couldn't figure it out, but thanks to him you were beginning to.

Notes: I can't believe I'm 22 requests in and this is my first Johnson, how is that even possible OTL but aside from that and the Lester sequel, all of my old queue is now finished! When I saw this one I actually gasped, since I myself am plushy 👉👈😖 so while writing I kinda ended up doing it for myself, channeled my own insecurities in there, I hope that's okay! It still ends up cute, I just wouldn't be able to believe it if Johnson asked me out on a date when I'm me heh

Once again, you were thankful for the chill of the night as the southern heat died down for the day, a golden ticket in your hand as you waited in line behind the other eager patrons of the Bang-a-Rang. Johnson had told you to just come around the back, someone would let you in if you'd just mentioned his name, but you didn't feel like you were there yet, the constant worry that someone else would come along and steal him away always on your mind. It returned again as you were allowed inside, the beautiful dancers around you drawing the gaze and keeping it hostage until the money flew, but you had just one man in your sights again tonight, the back of his head just visible over the crowd as he headed for a table.

His friends were there, the ones he worked with and were rarely without, but he'd leave them for you again the moment he saw you, he always did. His back was still to you as you approached his booth, the blonde one, Matty, noticing you first and giving him a nudge and a smirk. He turned in his seat to see what had him smiling so wide, his eyes shining in the neons the moment he saw that it was you. He grabbed his drink and stood, his jacket slung over his shoulder as he left them as always, but you didn't feel like going out this time as you placed a hand on his shoulder, not after that week's ticket had cut into your grocery money.

‘Can we stay? I just got here,’ you murmured, not wanting to make him choose but also not wanting to waste all that money so soon. He was fine with it though, again he always was when it came to you, and the others made room as you sat down with them for a drink. You didn't talk much, just like him, the other two doing all the talking for you as the music blared on and the dancers kept drawing gazes, and when a particularly pretty one with red hair and an untamable smile came over to try and rile up Matty you couldn't help but feel that familiar comparison to everyone around you arise once more without fail. 

She was beautiful, she was lively, she was thin and fit and looked so pretty in her outfit, and the moment Matty finally sent her away with a, ‘Don't you have something better to be doing tonight?’ you felt Johnson lean in to whisper in your ear.

‘She's like a sister to us, you don't gotta worry about her,’ he reassured you with a smile, and while you tried to take comfort in that, you still couldn't help but notice that his friends were also beautiful and lively and thin, your thicker legs pressing together so you wouldn't take up too much space at your end of the bench. As if reading your mind, he motioned for Matty to lean over before whispering something in his ear, the blonde giving him a quick nod as Johnson then nudged you to stand. You did, fearing that maybe he'd caught on that you didn't fit in around here at last, but instead of telling you to go he instead led you to a nearby door.

It led to his bedroom, two king beds, three dressers, two nightstands complete with matching lamps, one small table, and three comfy chairs filling the room, a bathroom to your left cutting into the room and just barely obscuring the mess of clothes that were gathered on the floor in the remaining space on the other side of the wall.

‘Ignore that,’ he chuckled casually when he caught you staring, and you did the moment your eyes caught something else; it was the dresser by the door, one third of it a gather-all for their junk and empty bottles, the other two thirds housing a row of old books, while the wall above was decorated with photos. They were all pinned directly to the wall, only a couple having frames, and when you moved closer you saw that they were all of you.

You during your various drives with him, you when he brought you to his favourite shops, you that day by the river when you'd felt brave enough to not only swim but ditch the clothes you wore overtop of your suit; he'd said you'd looked amazing as he'd snapped the photo, but the camera was so old you'd honestly just thought he used it as a joke the entire time, because who'd ever want any pictures of you when they were surrounded by people like this?

‘I keep every one,’ he told you as he slotted himself against your back, his arms coming around you and making your plush tummy feel warm under his palms. ‘Ethan got the camera for himself, but I keep borrowing it whenever I know you're comin’ around.’

‘Why would you want these?’ You didn't mean to ask it, to question his tastes, but he didn't take offense at your words at all, just chuckled in your ear as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head.

‘Because you're the loveliest one of them all.’

Your breath caught in your throat as he spun you around to kiss you for the first time, your heart beating faster at his confession; you'd been seeing him for a few months now, he'd been the one to spot you in town and ask you out for drinks to your complete and total surprise, but you hadn't actually believed that this was real until now. He'd always seemed genuine in his friendship with you, and Matty and Ethan never once made jokes about how different you were, but it wasn't until he gave a gentle tug to your pants that you knew he actually wanted you as much as you wanted him. You let him lead the way to the nearest bed, it must’ve been his as he nodded for you to sit down, get comfy against the pillows, their softness luring you in and letting you sink in as you looked up at him in a new light.

‘They won't bother us, Matty's gunna bring Ethan up the river for tonight,’ he told you as he started to strip, the sight of him shedding layer after layer making the room feel much warmer than it actually was. 

‘And you really want-?’ you asked nervously, the way your thighs then rubbed together making him stare as he crawled onto the bed in front of you. 

‘Just as much as you want me, I’d like to think,’ he confirmed, a knee coming between yours to part your legs, ‘unless you don't want this?’

‘I do,’ you were quick to say, Johnson chuckling at how honest you were once you stopped trying to convince yourself you weren't good enough for him, a hand cupping your cheek when your face then turned red over your eagerness.

‘You gunna trust me when I say I've fallen for you, then?’ he asked softly, your throat tightening as you gave him a small nod. ‘Good, cause I've been dyin’ to get my hands on you ever since you walked in.’ He kissed you again as he straddled you, his taller form boxing you in against his pillows, and you helped him start to strip you as the music went on outside. You wore a bit less than usual to combat the heat of the wait, and it seemed like he enjoyed what you'd chosen as he hummed to himself, kissing each new part if you that was revealed. 

You had to help him tug your pants down your hips, your cheeks flushing again when it proved to be a bit difficult, but he just smirked and yanked them free in one quick movement, your body jolting down with the movement and making the both of you laugh at how strong he was. It was just what you needed to not only feel more comfortable with baring yourself to him, but to set the mood as well as he ran his hands up your thighs until he settled on your hips. 

‘So soft, I'm gunna love holding you,’ he growled lowly, his desire for you making it harder to keep your own hands at bay as he rocked his hips forward just once. ‘You looked so good that day by the river, I wanted to push you in, tear that suit off…’

‘Johnson,’ you moaned, unable to keep yourself from imagining it, knowing full well that you hadn't been able to help yourself after seeing him sweating in the sun in just an undershirt, his jacket and button up left in the car.

‘So many nights I pictured myself between these thighs, wanted to know how it felt when you held me in place, I'm so glad you said yes to that drink.’ He was confessing everything to you now that he could, more talkative than you'd ever seen him so you knew just how much he felt for you, the sound of his rarely used voice only making you want to hear more. ‘Lay back, I can't wait any longer…’

You shifted down with his help, his mouth finding your thighs as promised as he tugged at the waistband of your underwear, his hands everywhere the moment he freed you of them as well. You made sure to give him space, spreading wide the further he traveled until you were squeezing on instinct, the pleasure of his mouth on you making you gasp and clutch his head. 

He didn't complain, only groaning against you as he wordlessly urged you to do more, want more from him, and you rolled your hips as he pressed light bruises into your skin. He worshiped you until he was satisfied, his eyes dark as he forced himself to stop before you came, because there was more he wanted, and you wanted it as well as you gently took him by the chin and guided him back to your mouth. 

‘I'm not letting you go home tonight,’ he whispered as you undid his belt, his need to be with you now very apparent as he rocked against your waist. ‘I wanna fuck you slow, love.’

‘Please…’ You'd never wanted anything more in your life, your mouth going dry as he took himself out and started to stroke. It looked like it pained him to have to part with you now that he had you on his bed, but it was a necessity as he got up and went to the nightstand next to the other bed instead of to his own. He pulled open the drawer, quickly shifting around until he found what he was looking for, and when he kneeled down next to you, his pants now on the floor, you swallowed hard when you saw that it was a nearly empty bottle of lube.

‘How did-?’

‘Why d’you think there's only two beds?’ was all he had to say, your face going beet red as you then understood why the other two were so okay with you stealing their room for the night. Your thoughts about it were quickly pushed away when he then laid down next to you instead of straddling you again, the lube popped open and his eyes only on you as you turned to him in confusion. ‘Take them off for me,’ he didn't ask, his head nodding towards his boxers as he palmed himself, and you fit perfectly between his legs as you returned the favour. He was stroking himself again the moment the fabric left his hips, the lube already spreading over his length and making him let out the odd groan just at seeing you before him. ‘I want you to ride me, love.’

‘But… won't I be too heavy?’ There was that nervousness again, you didn't want to ruin this for him even though he was a grown man and could certainly handle you, and he made that very apparent as he reached forward, cupped your ass with a bite of his lip, and pulled you forward until you were completely seated in his lap.

‘I've wanted to see you like this for months, you gunna let a little thing like that get in the way of this?’ He didn't say it to be pushy in the face of his own needs, or to get you to continue even if you were uncomfortable, his words instead making you see that when he said he wanted you he truly meant all of you; while you were out there comparing yourself to the people in his life, he was only thinking of and looking at you, and suddenly you didn't feel so self-conscious as you gazed down at the man who wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

‘No,’ you said honestly, and he kissed you again as he started to finger you open for him. You grinded down on him, let him touch you without reserve as you did the same, your hands becoming acquainted with his strong arms, stronger chest, and the bit of softness around his own belly from all the drinking and diner foods. He arched against you until you could feel the muscle underneath, he could probably pick you up easily he was more than likely trying to get across, and you almost wished you had the courage to ask him to fuck you against the wall.

Maybe next time.

You whined at the loss when he was satisfied once again, although you didn't have to wait this time as he lined himself up to you, his silent plea for you to move showing in his eyes as you slowly sank down until you were seated on him again. You shivered as you adjusted to him, Johnson losing composure for just a moment as he brought you to his chest, his mouth sucking marks into your skin as his hands trailed southward over you until he found a comfortable place on your hips. 

He didn't ask you to move, just waited patiently for your strength to return, and you didn't want to keep him waiting any longer as you started to ride him. It was good, damn better than you'd dared to imagine on the nights where you were lonely and fantasized about what this could be like, none of them comparing as he helped you along when your legs already started to get tired.

‘Don't stop,’ you pleaded with him, and he gladly took over for you as you let out a broken moan and braced yourself against his chest. You both panted into each other's shoulders, desperate to be close after so long of being silent about it, the pictures on his section of wall once again catching you off guard as you realized you could see them pretty clearly from his bed. Just as you'd been thinking of him, you bit back a surprisingly lewd moan when you imagined him doing the same, staring up at you from afar as he got off-

‘Every time you'd go I'd come back here,’ he murmured against your skin, his eyes also on the wall as he got you to roll your hips along with him. ‘I'd put up a new picture, and I'd think about all the things I wanted to say and do to you when you were looking at everyone else.’

‘I was afraid, you're too good for me,’ you finally admitted, the stimulations from the slowness of your movements starting to make you keen.

‘Now I'm gunna be good to you.’ He got you to sit back so you were on full display for him, a bit of energy coming back to you as you ran your hand down your chest to your stomach before touching yourself. He loved the sight of you feeling so good, the way you clenched around him making him thrust up a little harder each time you sank down on him again, and when he went from mouthing the words to finally saying them you couldn't hold it in; you rode him in earnest, Johnson fucking you through that final stretch until you came, and even as he followed after you and you collapsed against his chest he didn't stop, his arms tight around you as he kissed you despite the need for air.

‘I love you,’ he repeated even though he’d said it so many times, but you could gladly hear it a hundred times more as you said them back to him. ‘Just a little more, don't want this to end,’ he breathed, and you let him go until he was satisfied for the third time, although this time you undeniably were too, if you did say so yourself.

‘I don't either.’ You laid your cheek against his chest, your thighs shaking from the effort as you let them rest, his hand rubbing up and down your back as your heart rate went back to normal. ‘...Why didn't you ever say anything? I mean, I did think you were joking at first when you asked me for that drink, but even when we kept hanging out you never told me.’

‘I thought me bringing you on all those dates was tell enough,’ he figured, and you had to admit that they were pretty date-y locations most of the time, since they were all personal to him and the others never tagged along, but you hadn't wanted to hope this tall, very handsome stranger was choosing you. ‘Matty did say I should suck it up and spit it out, his words,’ he chuckled, and you laughed as you tried to get off of him. ‘Where d’you think you're going? Already told you I'm not letting you go tonight.’

Your face flushed deep, you had thought that had been only his way of talking dirty to you in the moment, but you were starting to catch on that Johnson was just very open about what he wanted, there was no second guessing here. ‘I don't really like the idea of sleeping next to where your friends constantly have sex, especially not if I’m seeing them tomorrow morning,’ you confessed quietly, your eyes avoiding the bed like they were already there, and he chuckled deep from his chest as he kissed you quickly and helped you sit up. 

‘Then we'll go out, don't gotta hit the river til next month.’ You felt empty again as you parted, but his hands leading you to the bathroom to clean you up after your sudden but very much enjoyed activities helped you feel a little better. The shower was quick, Johnson washing you carefully and whispering everything he loved about you as he worked, washing away every insecurity that’d plagued you all your life. When you were done you almost ended up pressed into the tiled wall, like he really couldn’t keep his hands off of you now that he had you, you were his.

While getting redressed, you didn’t have much of a choice but to wear the same clothes from the floor, so you sat down and pulled your shirt back over your head as he pulled out a fresh shirt from his drawer. It was mesmerizing watching him dress just as much as it was to undress, every curve of his body drawing you in more than any Pinup ever could; you couldn’t believe that he was all yours, since when were you ever that lucky? You couldn’t be sure, but you were very certain that the sight of him looking down at you while he did up his pants and tucked in his undershirt was pretty equal to winning the lottery.

‘Where do you want to go? If they’ve got the car for their own reasons, you can’t really take me for a ride tonight,’ you wondered as you stood, Johnson leaving his shirt unbuttoned as he sauntered over to you and pulled you close.

‘We could always take your car,’ he suggested with a small grin, the idea sounding wonderful as he grabbed his pack of smokes from his dresser and lit one up, ‘could grab a drink or two, go to your house this time.’

He tasted like nicotine as you went in for another kiss, the hand on your waist giving you a gentle squeeze as you pulled away and blew his stolen smoke out of the corner of your mouth. ‘That sounds like a perfect date.’

[berrygoesprivate]

You Make Me a Complete Mess

Summary: You meet a certain someone quite unexpectedly at the club. Frankie looks just as good as you remember him, although you feel like shit. Shouldn't have come here.

Warnings: F!reader, m/f pairing, unprotected p in v, creampie, angst, fluff, nicknames!(baby, dollface, mi amor), smut, slight praise k!nk, consent, kissing, reader wears a skirt, reader has slightly longer hair, slight mention of former substance abuse, no mention of y/n Notes: This is my first ever one-shot so please be gentle :) Thanks to the Pedro girlies, without you this wouldn't be possible. Thanks to my beta reader, Sam. <3 And especially Em for encouraging me to finish it. The title is inspired by 5SOS' song "Complete Mess", which is a stable in my Frankie playlist.

Also found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58372741 Word count: 3.4k

As if you could not see him. Standing there in the middle of the crowd, the strobing lights illuminating his features. Francisco and his fucking perfect features. The way his nose is curved, slightly crooked from an old injury. His slightly dark curled hair peaking under the cap. Him wearing a mustard-colored jacket, the one you always loved on him.

You can still smell the jacket from afar – wooden, warm and familiar. You sigh heavily. Praying that whatever cosmic creatures are in charge he doesn’t recognize you from across the room where you’re watching in the shadows. You didn’t even want to go into that damn night club, but your friend Jess talked you into it.

“You have to finally get over him,” she insisted before you were convinced to go to the club. She rummaged through your drawer to find something appropriate to wear. Something that didn’t scream desperation but flirty enough to draw some gazes on you. You hated her for the persuasion but were still thankful for the distraction.

So just an hour later, you are wearing a plaid tennis skirt and a cute black baby tee that definitely accentuates your breasts, the two of you are on your way to the club. The music that blasts from inside can be heard loudly even from the outside and you stop in your tracks for a moment, bracing yourself. Jess notices your hesitation (as always), takes your hand and guides you inside, her hand never letting go of yours until you're safely inside.

You take a quick look around and sigh. You shouldn’t really be here. Not at all. It’s too crowded and you don’t feel welcome in dark spaces. Until you spot him and suddenly it feels like time stands still. Fuck. You're looking around to find Jess, but she’s nowhere in sight and you curse to yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. You can’t help but stare in his direction. What is he doing here? Out of all the places. And he brought his friend Santiago as well. Thanks fucking much. This isn't even his fucking city.

Before you can form any coherent thoughts apart from cursing Frankie spots you. You had thought you were safe here in the shadows. With a few quick strides he comes over to you, a beer in one hand and his cocky smile widening with every step he takes. Why the hell is he smiling at you? Why does he act like he’s happy to see you? You try your hardest to look away, to stop your heart from beating faster. But you're failing, miserably.

“Hey, mi amor,” he hollers at you over the loud club music. You can’t believe what you just heard. Did he just use that fucking nickname on you? The one that sounds like pure honey coming from his lips, his Spanish accent so perfect, so hot. You take a moment to inhale and exhale deeply before you answer. “Hello Francisco,” you answer harshly and his smile falters immediately.

“No need to be this formal.” His voice is hurt, almost pleading. His big brown eyes look at you, studying your face. He looks like a fucking puppy that just got stepped on by its owner and you sigh again.

“What are you doing here? I thought Nightclubs aren't really your thing?” He interrupts your thoughts, his voice low and deep and like a balm for your aching heart.

If things were different you would cut all of this short, throw your arms around his neck, kiss him and tell him how much you missed him. Everything about him. Standing this close to him makes all the emotions bubble up again and you feel miserable. Your heart breaks all over again. But you are standing here, looking at his features, as far as the lighting allows. You can make out that he looks kind of tired around his dark brown eyes and your chest feels like it’s bursting.

It seems like you have been silent for far too long, so you burst out, “Well, I didn’t change my mind, if that’s what you were implying. Jess dragged me here. She wanted me to have fun. You know… after everything.”

Frankie nods. His gaze on you softens. “I see,” his eyes wandering over your curves. “After everything, you still looking amazing, dollface.” You instantly blush. You know that look. It’s the one that usually leads to both of your tongues dancing together, bodies rubbing against each other, probably naked a short while after.

You quickly shake your head. “Thank you,” you answer quickly and nod while your gaze wanders around to search for Jess, but she’s still nowhere to be found. Frankie still looks at you, his voice still lingering in your head. You hate everything about this. Seeing him, hearing him, smelling him. It’s all too much.

After you cried your eyes out for weeks on end, your last encounter playing like a movie behind your inner eyes. You can’t believe that you bump into him on the one night you wanted to at least try to enjoy yourself. Suddenly you feel his large, warm hand on your arm and you feel like the room is spinning.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you warn him. That touch brings back too many memories. You tried so hard to bury all of these emotions deep within yourself. You are reminded that this is wrong for a number of reasons. One being you separated a dozen or so weeks ago.

“What are you even doing here?” You shout over the music, his hand suddenly freeing your arm and you feel like your heart is shrinking yet again. “Santiago wanted to meet a girl he met recently. Here in this very club.” Suddenly it hits you like a ton of bricks, and you just stare at Frankie. “Here in this club? Did he, by any chance, tell you her name?”

Frankie shakes his head. “No, he didn’t. Why?” His dark eyebrows frown slightly in confusion. “Oh.. I just have a feeling I know her,” you chuckle. And he’s looking at you even more confused, a slightly nervous laughter leaving his lips and you try your hardest not to smile back.

God, you miss every fiber of him. Everything in you screams for you to touch him. But you just can’t bring yourself to. You fought so many fights just to be able to stand here on your own two feet again. It’s not like he is an idiot per se. He’s just a guy with too many problems, huge ones that you can’t ignore. Problems hard to look past and instead enjoy being with him.

But even now, when the storm of conflicted emotions is brewing inside of you, you can’t put your feelings for him aside. “You want something to drink?” He asks, nonchalantly, like it’s the most ordinary thing ever. You just nod puzzled and a few moments later the two of you find yourself at the bar. It’s a bit quieter here than the main dancefloor. He chooses his drink of choice, you take a non-alcoholic beverage, as usual. “How’s everything going?” you ask, trying your hardest to sound casual.

He sits down at the bar, with you following him. “Alright. I mean. I am still on probation as you know. Have to prove I can keep clean and out of funny business.”

“Funny business?” you say wryly. “That’s one way to put it.”

Frankie laughs silently, readjusting his cap slightly. A gesture so simple but one you know so well. One he always does when he’s nervous. “Yeah, I know. Hey, I am really trying okay? I go to these damn consultations too.”

“And is it helping so far?” you ask, sincerity in your voice.

Frankie nods, readjusting his dark blue cap again. “Yeah, I guess so. Didn’t take anything since. Well… Since you left.”

The sentence hurts more than it should and you wiggle a bit in your seat. Suddenly Frankie looks incredibly lost and broken. Maybe the whole breakup did more to him than you thought. “That’s good. I am proud of you. A step in the right direction,” you say, unconsciously resting a hand on his thigh. The same instant you feel his dark jeans fabric under your hand, you know you crossed a line. You find Frankie’s face and he looks at you, his expression unreadable as he rests his hand on yours on his thigh, looking down at your touching limbs.

You try to pull away but he doesn’t let you. “I’ve missed you,” he suddenly blurts out, like this wouldn’t cross another fucking line. “Frankie…,” you almost whimper. It takes everything in you to not just climb into his lap on the bar stool. This simple gesture sets all your senses on fire.

He continues as if he hasn’t felt you tense up. “I am serious. I try to be better. For you. If that’s what you want. I would do anything if it means I can be with you again,” he says sincerely.

You know he means every word he says. But it usually doesn’t take long until he falls back into old habits again. “Frankie, please, don’t do this to me.” You hate how desperate you sound. He suddenly takes the hand that had been lying on his thigh between his hands, kissing it gently. “You know I mean it, mi amor. You simply have to.”

There it is again. The nickname. His voice dripping with sincerity and desperation. His brown eyes so soft you know you are trapped. Yet again. Before you do anything stupid you stand up and make your way through the crowd as fast as you can, out into the cold air and pray that he doesn’t follow you. But surely he does. It’s Francisco Morales after all. The one that's always looking after everyone, except for himself.

“God damn it, Francisco,” you curse, your voice way too loud for the quiet outside of the club, the music still booming from inside. Frankie flinches at your harsh words before he takes a step closer. You're taking a step back and find yourself trapped between him and a wall. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again and I will go. Forever. But only if that's what you really want. Not because your smart-ass brain tells you to do so.” His voice is nothing more than a pained whisper as he finds your face and stares at you as if wanting to look straight into your soul. His expression so full of agony that you audibly gasp. “Fuck, Frankie! You know I can’t do this.” Your voice is hoarse.

It takes all your willpower to not drag him to you and kiss him so you’re just standing there, your back against the wall and look at him. Observing how his chest is rising and falling fast under the Henley shirt he’s wearing. You remember his strong biceps and his neck glimmering with sweat whenever you were close.

In a smooth motion he closes the distance between the two of you and places both underarms left and right of your head as he looks down at you. His gaze intense, his breath smelling of beer and a cigarette he probably had a few minutes before you arrived.

“Dollface, please. Just this once. Give me a chance to prove how serious I am.”

“I already gave you so many chances, Francisco. I can’t do this any longer. It’s hurting me to see you lose yourself over and over again when I tried my hardest to help you. It fucking destroyed me,” you whine. The hurt and truth behind your words let Frankie freeze. Hesitantly, he takes a tiny step back.

“I’m sorry. I know I am a complete mess. You deserve someone better than me, I know,” he lowers his gaze, all the insecurity sweeping through his words and it pains you more than you want to admit.

“I do, that’s true. But the problem is you’re the idiot I love,” you whisper quietly, hoping maybe he didn’t hear you. But of course he did.

“You what?” He asks, he is searching your face again, his eyes big and round and his facial expression full of surprise.

“You heard me just fine, Mr. Morales. I won’t say it again.”

He swallows hungrily as he steps closer to you, his whole body now pressed against yours and if it wasn't obvious before, it’s even more obvious now. You're trapped. Right here with him and in this very moment. You still feel the weight of your words threatening to crush you as he leans in and peppers you neck with tiny, feather-like kisses. Hitting the spot that makes you moan instantly. He knows. He knows your body better than anyone else ever did. He knows what he’s doing and all your self-restraint flies out the window instantly.

“Mi amor, you don’t know what that means to me,” he whispers against your neck, his breath warm and making you shiver. The all-so-familiar heat between you instantly ignited. You are immediately getting hot and wet. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His beard stubble is tickling your neck, a sensation so intense it makes you instantly grab his shoulders as if they are your only support before you threaten to drown in the wave of feelings.

“Frankie - -,” you whisper against his neck, burying your face in the crook of it, his warm earthy and slightly sweaty scent filling your nostrils. All you can think of in this moment is how much you missed this.

He pulls away slightly, his hand finding your chin, lifting it up gently, his thumb caressing your lower lip. His gaze on you is hungry but also a bit hesitant. “Please, let me kiss you,” he pleas and you just capture his lips in a passionate kiss before you can even form a coherent thought. He answers immediately, no hesitation palpable, his hands tangling in your hair, pulling you even closer to him as you moan softly into the kiss. He rests his forehead on yours, his breath already labored.

“It’s taking everything in me not to have my way with you right here,” he whispers hoarsely and you can’t help but giggle. “You find that funny?” He asks, his smile widens as he finds your eyes again.

“A bit,” you admit. He’s still pressed so tightly against you, you feel his erection through his jeans and through your thin tennis skirt as you daringly put one leg around his waist. He groans at the sensation.

“Dollface, you’re not helping in the slightest,” he says under his breath as he lifts you off the ground, his hands resting on your ass under your skirt and pressing you against the wall. You moan enthusiastically.

“Fuuu---ckk,” he mumbles and you swear you feel him twitching through his jeans. He pulls you into another kiss, this time even more desperate and full of need. You grind your already dripping center on his bulge and he groans again.

“If you don’t stop right now I can’t promise I’ll hold back, baby…. I missed you so much, fuck.” His voice is hoarse and strained and you can’t help but snicker again as you look around and you whisper against his lips, “I think we’re safe, Frankie.”

With a gasp he tightens his grip on your ass, pulls your slip to the side just enough so he can enter you.

“Fuck baby, you're already so wet for me,” he whispers in your ear and you can’t help but moan. You hear the zipper of his jeans and before you can wrap your head around you’re feeling the tip of his length pressed against your entrance. You look down at his already hard dick before you look back into his face and nod as a silent invitation to go further.

In understanding, he pushes into you, slow and torturous, savoring every moment of this like he always does as he holds your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. It’s almost too much to handle. You both moan in unison. The feeling of this kind of reunion, the thrill of a public place. Fuck, his big dick. You almost forgot how huge it is.

You frown for a moment and his look softens immediately, concern visible in his face.

“You alright?” he whispers softly.

“I am,” you reassure him and it’s true. You just need a moment to adjust. It’s been a while after all.

He studies you with his warm eyes for a moment, the street light illuminating his features just enough you can see his eyes flickering. The shady alley the two of you are in gives you some sort of disguise.

You grab his neck and grind against him in a gesture to keep going. He nods and does just that. His thrusts are hard but controlled, his grab on your ass never loosening, his arms flexing as he speeds up the pace.

Pushing both of you closer to the edge as he starts kissing your neck, his teeth nibbling on your sensitive flesh and you want to moan loudly but have to remind yourself that you're in a public place, so you lean forward and whimper into his ear instead.

His growl in response is familiar, the sound deep but not dangerous to let you know he’s close himself. It means you can let go as well.

“I-I am so close,” you whisper in his ear. Your voice is strained and desperate, your hands frantically holding on to his mustard yellow jacket.

“Let me hear you, baby. I need to hear you,” he groans back, his voice thick with desire. It’s always like this with Frankie. He has to make sure you're satisfied before he lets go himself. His words are all you need to reach your climax and your walls are clenching hard around his cock, making it twitch in anticipation for his own release as he reduces his speed, the wet sounds created by his movements filling the night air.

You’re just beginning to notice the music from the club still blasting and creating a background distraction. He pulls out but you know he’s not finished yet. He lets you back on the ground. Your legs are shaky. He grabs your hips to turn you around so you’re facing the wall. He grabs your hair and pushes inside once again, the tightness making him moan. Loud and low, way too loud for a public encounter like this.

As he thrusts into you, he’s desperate, not holding back. He pushes fast and hard and your eyes roll back into your skull. You have to bite your lips to keep the unholy sound from escaping. As he lets go of your hair, he grabs your hips so hard that there will definitely be bruises tomorrow. He glides in and out tortuously slow before he comes inside of you hard. His load is thick and warm inside.

You almost loose your mind at the sensation, almost, just almost, coming again. He stills, leans over you, his stomach resting on your back. He brushes away the hair from your neck, planting small kisses on it, all the way up to your ear before he whispers, “Damn, baby. That was intense, fuck.” You moan slightly in pleasure as he murmurs breathlessly. “You did so good,” he praises you and you beam at his words, creating a warm, content feeling inside. Both literally and figuratively.

He reluctantly pulls back and you can feel his semen dripping out and down your legs but you don’t mind at all. You straighten yourself back up and turn around. You see him closing his jeans, watching you closely.

Just this moment a few people are leaving the night club through the door you passed through just minutes ago and as your eyes meet again you both chuckle at the close call. He pulls you towards him, his hands tangling in your hair again. His look on you is soft and satisfied as he finds your lips in an intimate kiss, a stark contrast to the passionate encounter you two just shared.

“Next time, we’re doing this back at home, okay?” he whispers against your lips and you just nod. He pulls you into a tight hug, his chin resting on your head before he kisses your hair gently. A gesture so intimate it makes your heart ache.

“Please, don’t fuck this up again, Francisco,” you mumble, your voice laced with the hurt you forgot about for a moment.

“I won’t, mi amor. I promise.”

And you decide to believe him. Even if it’s just for this night.

[thedo0zyslider]

Apprehension - 1k Words

There's been some very noticeable.... tension on the Coral Isles for days. Martyn and Scott finally decide to break it.

One day, on a rather quiet (and unsettlingly so,) one for a death game, Martyn gets to make out with his siren teammate. Though he doesn't get to do much else, even if their friends and allies will joke about them doing much worse later on. (And if they had done anything more, his lips would've been sealed. You don't kiss and tell, after all.)

Martyn isn't suprised when it happens. He and Scott have been flirting for days, and making inappropriate jokes since their alliance started. He thinks Scott’s already joked to everyone about Martyn wanting to fuck him. (If he actually did want to fuck his teammate was no one's business but his, thank you very much.) The sexual tension was obvious, and it was bound to come to a head sooner or later.

He just wasn't expecting it to happen the way it did. Martyn had thought it'd be because of something big and exciting, not something so....domestic. But he certainly wasn’t complaining.

And, well, it's happens on quite the normal morning; when Martyn is rummaging in the chests for something. He can't remember what. Though whatever he was looking for hardly feels important after Scott walks in, and with what happens between them after.

He registers his teammate walking in, of course, hears his footsteps coming into their base. But Martyn pays it no mind initially. He thinks Scott is here to make food or something, not him. But Scott doesn't go over to the furnace, or the crafting table like his teammates expects him too. Instead, he finally makes a move.

"Hey pirate~" Scott says, leaning against the wall. Martyn glances over, an eyebrow already raised. It's not often that Scott leads the conversation with flirting. Not unless he wants something. And, depending on what he wants, Martyn may or may not be willing to give it.

"Whaddya want, siren?" He asks, taking a step closer. He feels like he needs to move closer for this conversation, like somethings drawing him in. And, for once, it's not Scott’s siren song he's worrying about drawing him closer. This is something special. Something different.

"Just wanted to see you." Scott smiles sweetly. Well, as sweet as one can with a mouth full oof razor sharp teeth. Other people wouldn't think it's sweet, or even cute, but Martyn does. He always has.

"Well, here I am." Martyn laughs, now standing right infront of Scott. Close enough to reach out and touch him, if he wanted too. Close enough to grab his hand and lean in further, maybe lean in all the way...

Maybe, Martyn let's himself bend forward a bit, his mind wandering. And maybe, while he's off fantasizing in la-la-land, Scott makes up his mind and decides to get this over with.

"Yeah.." Scott muttered, leaning in even closer. Martyn lets him, even when their noses are close enough to bump. He doesn't want Scott to pull away, not just yet. "Here you are."

Before he knows what's happening, he's kissing Scott, and Scott's kissing him back. Before he knows it, Martyn’s gone from being on Earth to being on cloud nine. And, frankly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

All that flirting had actually paid off after all.

It starts out as a hesitant, gentle thing, but it doesn't stay that way for long. Scott kisses him harder, running his hands through his teammates hair. Martyn matches his energy perfectly. He presses his Scott against the wall, enough for the wood to start digging into his friends back, and doesn't stop until he needs air again. Which is quite a long time, considering one of them can survive without air and the other is stupid good at holding his breath.

They break the kiss, panting. Scott’s arms go to wrap around his shoulders, hands unfortunately leaving Martyn’s hair. He wraps hi arms around Scott’s waist in return, keeping them close. The siren's face is flushed red and his eyes are shining. It's a nice look on him. Martyn places a teasing kiss on his neck for looking for beautiful. He wants to make Scott look like that again and again and again.

"Our neighbors could see us, ya know!" Scott mutters, a giggle escaping him. His hands move to cup Martyn's face gently. Lovingly, even, like he's some breakable sculpture. The (undeserving, his mind yells,) sweetness of it all makes Martyn wants to scream and tear his eyes out. It also makes him want to kiss Scott 'till neither of them can breathe anymore.

"Since when did you have any dignity?" Martyn snorted, rolling his eyes fondly. Scott had joked to TIES, like, a week ago, to not be suprised if they looked over and saw the two of them locking lips. And then Martyn had seconded him on that and proceed to not kiss his teammate stupid. Until now, of course. "Our whole house is open. They can see us anywhere we make out."

"True." Scott hums, as if considering his partners words. They both know he doesn't even need to consider them. Scott was extremely well aware of his lack of dignity. He often used it to his advantage in the flirting department, after all, much like he had a few minutes before.

"Unless you wanna do it in the secret cave?" Martyn mumbles, making his voice lower. He leans in further, too, to really sell the point.And if Scott blushes because of it, he'll be nice enough not to tease him about it. For now anyways. 

"A different time, maybe." Scott mumbles, placing a delicate peck on his cheek. The sly look on his face does not escape his teammate, and Martyn knows they'll be huddled together in the cave sooner rather than later. "I'm good right here."

"Good." Martyn says, and kisses him again. Scott kisses him back, Martyn thinks he's in heaven all over again. They kiss a little longer this time, Scott tangling his hands in Martyn’s hair once again. Martyn makes a sound at that, and bites Scott’s bottom lip. His partner melts under him at that, and the pirate feels a thrill of satisfaction because of it.

He presses Scott against the wall harder this time, and starts kissing him again almost as soon as they break apart. Scott let's him, humming happily as their lips meet for a third time that day. They meet several more times after that, with varying degrees of passion and intensity behind them. Martyn feels like he's in a different world every time. He wonders if Scott feels the same.

Eventually, they end up sitting on the floor, Scott curled in Martyn’s lap like a cat. He's very warm for a fish person, and his weight is comforting. Martyn can't help but draw him closer with one arm and never want to let go; to never want this moment to end.

"We should've done this sooner." Scott mumbled quietly, locking their fingers together. Martyn squeezes his partners hand, and gets a squeeze in return. The pirate smiles at that, and holds onto his siren even tighter.

"Tell me about it." He snorted, resting his chin ontop of Scott’s head. The siren hummed under him, content. Martyn has a feeling he won't be moving for at least twenty minutes. Maybe he'll even be stuck here for an hour, forced to cuddle and hold his beautiful, charming teammate.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

[littlesparklight]

A little late for prompt #18 - Genderplay for AUtober, but have this scene from a always-a-girl!Paris idea (that will one day be a whole fic if the Muses allow):

"Come with me!"

Helen twitched, stirring from her lazy half-doze in the silence left behind after she'd answered and Paris had at first said nothing, merely soaking up the repeated stroking through her thick, soft curls. Now, as Helen opened her eyes, she was pinned in place by wide, shining blue-green eyes as much as she had earlier had Paris restrained with nothing but her own command, Paris raising herself up on her elbows and leaning forward.

"I want you, Helen, and I can give you everything you want."

"You can't," Helen said, a surge of fond incredulity swamping her heart.

What a silly thing to say, when they were both women, and she was married - what did it matter what Helen could have of Paris, right now here in Sparta, as unusual as it was that she was here? What did it matter that Paris had knelt so prettily, had blushed like one of Aphrodite's roses herself to be ordered to put her mouth to Helen's cunt and then to be held there by her strength and her desire that she remain? What did it matter that Paris had been thick with arousal after, dripping wet and hot against her own cunt when Helen had flipped them around and fucked her as close to as a man could without the cock to do so?

"Would Priam countenance to see yet another Trojan princess lost to Achaia?"

Helen shook her head, touching Paris' cheek. She wouldn't actually want that. Her husband was a pleasant, kind man, but if Paris should remain in Sparta somehow, she didn't want to share her with Menelaos. She wanted Paris all to herself. Didn't want to think of that wide-eyed face turned up towards her husband if he realized he could make Paris kneel and that she'd like it.

Helen had to bite down on the urge to snarl and do something to soothe the sudden surge of jealous desire, of a need to claim she'd never felt quite so viciously before.

"No," Paris agreed with a sigh, drawing Helen's attention back onto her as she laughed lightly, though shuddered at the same time. "Father would never marry me off as nothing but a concubine, and I don't want to be married to your husband, though it would let me share you with him. I want you."

"And I want you as well," Helen confessed with a sigh, closing her eyes. Took Paris by the chin and kissed her, keeping her in place and only barely resisted the urge to turn them around again. If she did she'd get distracted. More distracted. "But we can't have everything we want in life, Paris. Not even when one is the daughter of Zeus, may you have everything you want. Because we're women."

Resentment and frustration bubbled in her heart like a too-thick stew left far too long on the fire, unattended as the poor wife has no help and far too many children to look after, leaving the pot boiling unto inedibility. Her brother could have kleos, could have a wife though she had been half-promised to someone else - he only had to reach out to take it, the same as Kastor. But she, who was Polydeukes' full sister, a daughter of cloud-gathering Zeus just as he was his son, could not have any of those things.

And she wanted---

"But you can, Helen." Paris was bright-eyed and intent, her voice a song and her sweet, generous lips - those lips that had eaten Helen out with such eagerness - smiling. "Aeneas said we were here because we were sent by Aphrodite, and that is the truth, but listen - three goddesses came to me, and I was given a golden apple, the very treasure of the Loves, and Hermes ordered me in the name of the Father of Gods and Men to declare which of them was the most beautiful. As a reward for my judgment, Aphrodite offered me love. Promised me that I might be joined with the most beautiful woman in the world, just as a wife and husband are, the lady of love standing by our union and assuring it."

Helen stared, completely wordless for the moment, her tongue held captive to her incredulous heart. Paris touched her cheek, her bright eyes gleaming behind briefly lowered lashes, thick, long, and dark. The curls framing her face were so soft, and made her look softer, still. Radiant.

"And Helen, our walls are built by the gods. They're greater, thicker and taller, than anything any mortal could ever make, and so, if they come to reclaim you, as your fame deserves, they would throw themselves with little chance to win against those walls, the city still safe. The whole world would know your name, and you could have me. Please, come with me."

Paris was ridiculous. Paris was glowing, and Helen didn't want to let her go.

[timextoxhajima]

Kill Shot: Niki Nishimura

member: enhypen niki

genre: mafia! enhypen

synopsis: you're an fbi agent working for the nishimura cartel as an undercover spy. your cover is blown in the presence of the boss' youngest son.

a/n: it has been a hot minute since i've written something. my writing style has definitely changed, and this fic will not focus on any romance whatsoever. based on the new song by itzy.

w/c: probably like 400

the nishimura cartel is not one for the weak - of course, that's what everybody says about any mafia system or any cartel. but when you're knee-deep in it, involved with their transactions and being a person of importance to their routines, danger becomes a thin line you can cross without even knowing.

japanese mafias and cartels very seldom include the likes of anybody below the age of 16, so when jung dayoon was very carefully sifted into the system, she was very surprised to meet the youngest member - niki nishimura - the middle child of three and the only son of his father.

her focus became keeping an eye on him, as well as his sisters. His older sister is the pride of the family. despite being just one year older than him, her missions and tasks started way before he did. she was 15 when she first held a gun to a man's head, and jung dayoon was there to watch the inherited cold-bloodedness she had.

but it was too much effort to have jung dayoon sifted into the system, so blowing her cover now, at six months, would be too fast. one of the reasons for her reluctance to bust them is that she wouldn't know what would happen to the three children. they may have been in a cartel but nobody could deny that they were living a life most people would've wanted.

they never starved. they always got the newest toys. always sat in expensive cars and always ate the best things. as ironic as it seemed, these children were in a bubble - if the bubble was covered in spikes and poison and killed anybody who touched it.

click.

she clicks the magazine into the gun and sets it down. turning around, she meets eye to eye with niki, who closes the door behind him.

they don't knock here. all the nishimuras never have to knock. dayoon has lost count the number of times she's tried to use her pager and gotten a heart attack.

"i was just looking for you."

dayoon almost feels emotional - the first time she met him, his voice was still that of a boy's. she was also taller than him. now, his voice is low enough to go unnnoticed if he doesn't bother to speak up, and during conversations, she remains a foot away from him to save her neck the ache.

"what is it?" she passes off rubbing the barrel of the sniper with her sleeve to push her pager up her arm.

"you know how my first task's probably coming soon? i just was... just wondering... how did you get in? i mean, if my father trusted you, then you must be good at something."

his words sting. it's been difficult trying to hide the hurt, the sorrow, the anger and every other emotion on the drawing board while working here. dayoon sometimes wonders if she was the right person to be made an undercover agent, but by the time she realised who she was dealing with, it was too late.

she scoffs. "'good at something'? i hope that hasn't been your impression of me the entire time i've been working here."

niki shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets, finding a chair nearby to sit in. dayoon remains standing. it's necessary that nobody sits in a nishimura's presence.

dayoon notices the lack of response - he's not going to ask again.

"i have never missed a shot in my life. 100% fatality. thought you would've already known," she composes herself and places her hands infront of her abdomen.

niki fiddles with the pistol on the table he's at. then, he pauses and tilts his head to look at her, eyes dark through his blonde hair which he hasn't gotten past ever since he got it bleached.

she remembers that day - he looks like he aged two or three years. sometimes, she thinks about how terrifying he is, that if a child can be capable of doing certain things, then what will he be capable of when he's an adult?

niki is one of those people who gets more intimidating as he grows older, for he's following in his father's footsteps more and more each day. and dayoon knew for a fact that if she slipped up, the chances of niki catching her would be much higher than her father or his sisters. he's not the heir to the cartel for nothing.

"my father can find a sniper anywhere. why you?"

dayoon takes a deep breath. because the police force planted me in a spot where your father will see me as the best of the best in his circumstance.

"i don't know, you tell me," dayoon returns a shrug. she knows better than to speak to him in this tone - but niki is sharp. he is ruthless. he can tell when you're lying, and right now, she's already in danger. it's better for her to disguise it with courage, nonchalance.

niki sighs, lacking patience. he drags a finger down his left temple, then adjusts his arm to reach for the pistol again.

"sometimes, just because you don't see it, doesn't mean it's not there."

his voice is just loud enough for her to hear - but she's having trouble processing his words.

dayoon cocks her head, slightly anxious. "i'm afraid i don't understand."

"i'm telling you... to not be arrogant. arrogance is enough to make a mistake. a fatal one."

she finally frowns, reaching behind her for the gun.

"i'm not here to kill you."

"then why are you telling me all this?"

"because i'd hate to have to blow your guts out tomorrow for my first assignment," niki stands, hand grabbing the pistol and raising it to eye level.

dayoon's heart is in her mouth, and her fingers begin to tremble upon the realisation. there are no thoughts in her head, for she's simply preparing herself for death.

but instead, niki releasing the pistol and lets it swing around his index finger, allowing her to take it.

"your life or the safety of the cartel."

dayoon knows how fast he is with guns, so she doesn't bother taking it out of his hands.

"the cartel is the reason why the city isn't safe."

"and yet half of the cartel have families to feed. you may not see it our way, but why should you ruin those... when i'm letting you go?"

"your father will know."

"my father already knows."

she pauses.

"he was just reserving you. for me. so you can either accept my proposal and keep your mouth shut... or come tomorrow and let me put a bullet through your eyes. your choice."

[itsclydebitches]

I'm just adding my voice to the growing choir but yeah, I don't think Trent is going to out Collin:

It would be an extreme moment of regression. I mean, this guy gave up decades of high-profile journalism due to his distaste for how the job was making him compromise his ethics. He's not gonna just turn around and out a player after that.

(Headcanon-y side-note, but Trent is HEAVILY queer coded and based on my personal readings of his character he's someone who would not just respect Collin, but understand him.)

I've been noticing that each episode has a small "Don't print that" moment where Trent seems legitimately open to keeping the club's personal secrets. The ones that, frankly, have no bearing on football and thus the public has no right to them (changing manicurists, diarrhea, etc.) None of these scenes have implied that he's merely humoring his worried friends and planning to air all the dirty laundry when they're least expecting it. A player kissing another man in an alley on their night off absolutely counts as 'Personal and none of the book's business.'

Outside of the book, how would Trent publish this? He doesn't seem to be doing freelance. It's possible he could pass the tip off to someone else, but we haven't seen any journalist buddies he's friendly with and giving that to a stranger (from the audience's perspective) would feel like even more of a betrayal. You're not just outing him, but using someone who we can't trust to spin the story in an empathetic light, as Trent did with Ted's panic attacks?

Trent doesn't snap a photo of them, despite having the time to get one (they're oblivious). He doesn't write anything in his notebook. He doesn't interrupt and hound them for a quote like he might have in season 1-2. He just walks off, looking contemplative/a bit worried.

So I don't think Trent is going to out Collin, but I do think he might try and do something about it. Meaning, this episode has shown that Collin is, well... pretty bad at keeping his sexuality a secret. He's sneaking out of his boyfriend's house, trying not to draw attention to himself, but then he hits a whole bunch of trash cans while leaving. I got a huge spike of anxiety when he looked at his phone with the other guys standing right there, given that a selfie, kissy emoji, and "thirst" are all pretty damning texts. He's obviously kissing right next to the main road, just a street or so down from where half the club is eating dinner, in a remarkably lit area. And though he tries to deflect a lot - fine he's gay for Zava too, this is my wingman, story about trying to seduce women - it comes across as trying too hard to anyone who's paying attention. Because, you know, Collin is trying very hard, despite his missteps.

The point is that Collin is constantly on the cusp of being outed. If the story doesn't have that happen next episode (that would put a damper on Richmond's win streak) I think Trent is going to step in somehow in an effort to provide damage control - or at least try to, even if he winds up being too late. The use of "Everybody Knows," while obviously a pertinent title, is also a list of how all these awful things have already come to pass - "That's how it goes" - and contains such gems as,

"Everybody knows you've been discreet But there were so many people you just had to meet Without your clothes Everybody knows"

(The context here is cheating, but for a background snippet of a song I think the general vibe of bad things + lovers + not being discreet wins out.)

So Trent may try to step in, even if it comes to naught. After all, if he spotted them it's only a matter of time until someone else does too. Collin is lucky it was Trent who saw them and not someone else.

Cue the emphasis on how much he's changed as a journalist (Collin wouldn't have been lucky a year ago), viewers get a cool new relationship between characters who haven't interacted yet, as well as the canonizing of Trent as a queer man without giving him a coming out story because frankly a 50ish character doesn't (necessarily) need that. He's already got the "vibe" 🌈😎

[harus-simp]

Home, sweet home

-Taerae x reader-

Warning:none (fluffy fluff 😚)

Requested: hiii, do you think you could write a drabble about waking up with taerae and being all domestic ?? <3 (Anonymous)

Author's note: hey there anon, here's your drabble of taerae, so I hope you like it :))

Thank you so much for requesting <3

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Spending the day inside with taerae after a long day celebrating his debut makes you realise how much you love him and how hard would it be for you to not have him in your life.

As the morning person you were, it was around 11 a.m almost and you were still sound asleep. The they before you and taerae had been out all day celebrating him getting 6th place on boys planet, so you were both exhausted from moving around a lot actually.

Shuffling on your bed made you a little bit more conscious, however you wanted to keep sleeping so you tried to for a couple of minutes until you started opening your eyes only to find your boyfriend staring at you with a sweet smile adorning his face.

"Morning sleepyhead"he said ruffling your hair softly as he was using his elbow as a support.

"Good morning"you told him hiding behind your blanket.

He laughed at your behaviour.

"How long have you been watching me?"you asked embarrassed.

"Don't know, I lost count"he said neutrally waiting for you to go out of your little fort.

"Ahhh, seriously, why are you like this???"you whined taking your blanket off you.

He ignored your question and grabbed your hand starting to pull you out of bed to stand up.

"C'mon we can't stay here forever, it's late"

You wanted to stay on bed but figured fighting wouldn't lead you anywhere so you just let him drag you to the kitchen in order to make breakfast.

As you made your way there you both thought of what you could have to eat. Yes at 11a.m, but you both were hungry so who are we to judge?

You finally decided to have something simple as pancakes..., yeah that was the idea because let's say it wasn't going that well.

"What are you doing taerae?"you shouted panick taking over you.

"Aren't you supposed to pour mik now?"

"Yes, but not that much!"😫😫😫

Yeah, so the pancakes didn't turn out that good but well, at least you were having fun together?

After that, you washed the dishes and took a shower because all the goofing around while cooking kinda made you both dirty due to all the flour flying around lol.

Right after that you guys started cleaning the apartment with background music which kinda was a mistake as well 💀💀💀 (you can't do shit without causing chaos, I think junhyeon has infected you lmao).

So instead of finishing everything in a short spam of time you took more time than you had plan and ended your work half an hour later that you had intended to.

Then tarae got the idea of interpreting you hot summer, but an acapella version of it with his guitar as you had requested him to sing days before the song, what can you say you wanted a little spoiler before the finale 🤭

He gathered all he needed and positioned himself to sing in a comfortable place.

As he started singing you were literally hypnotised by taerae's voice (who wouldn't actually), it was true that you had heard it before on the programme but hearing him in person was much better, he knew how to perfectly highlight his skills and you loved how he was able to just draw you in.

After he finished you clapped enthusiastically expressing your love for him and his vocals.

"You are so good taerae, you suit the concept a lot"you complimented him.

"Haha thank you"he said flashing you one of his characteristic smiles.

As you stared at him, you started to realise how lucky you were to have someone like him in your life, he was one the one you always seeked for his face in a crowd when you were meeting for a date, how your whole face and spirit lighted up when you felt his presence or even the heartache you had when you both needed to part ways was enough for you to understand that you wanted to keep him in your life forever.

"What are you thinking there?"he asked curiously as he saw you smiling unconsciously at him, looking directly into his eyes.

"Just how lucky and greatful I am to be your girlfriend" you answered, the smile not leaving your face.

In that precise moment he really felt how time stopped right there and you were the only thing that mattered to him.

You managed to make him so shy he couldn't even look at you back. You simply smiled wider and got closer to him.

"What?I really am"

He trapped you in his arms hugging you tightly and not intending to let go.

"I am more lucky, believe me"

And just like that you spended the rest of the day just being all lovey dovey and clingy 😙

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[spurious]

Since you're not feeling well, a little happy ficlet prompt: Fluff from the fifth song in your Spotify Likes!

is this fluff? i really don't know. i actually have no idea what the hell this even is but i think you can probably take the weirdness up with mr. john darnielle anyway

Rodney knows his team will always come for him, but even with that surety, he's still struggling to stay calm as he's taken prisoner for unspecified claims of "witchcraft."

"It's not witchcraft, it's physics, you absolute morons," he'd shouted, voice going shrill and strident, but the villagers had ignored both his protests and his attempts to explain the experiment he'd been conducting, dragging him away from the outpost while the others were exploring nearby.

The tiny village is, it turns out, a front for a much larger society—and you'd think they would fucking check for that at this stage, but no—and most of the community lives in a system of white-rocked caves. They bring Rodney to a small room, attach him to a chain in the floor and cuff his hands together, then leave.

It's two days before he sees another human face, and when he does it's a woman who seems to be some sort of bureaucrat, flanked by tall, broad-shouldered guards.

"Wizard of Atlantis," she says, and Rodney tries, really he does, not to roll his eyes. He thinks he should probably be commended for this, but no one ever seems to appreciate these efforts from him. "Your warriors have come to plead for your release."

"Oh, finally," Rodney mumbles, sighing heavily and standing up. "Let's get this show on the road, then."

The woman's eyebrows climb, but she directs one of the guards to unlock Rodney from the floor chain, and then he's led into a cavernous room, his team standing in the middle of it, each of them looking perfectly deadly in their own way.

"As you can see, warriors," the woman says, her voice echoing off of the stark-white walls, "your wizard is unharmed. However, we cannot allow him to be released, lest his evil magic bring ruin upon our community."

Rodney opens his mouth, but John gives him a look, so he closes it, decides to let his team do their thing. The room is full of guards, but they haven't confiscated their weapons, so Rodney's well aware of the odds if this goes poorly.

Teyla steps forward. "We understand your people fear Dr. McKay's powers, but I can guarantee that if you release him, your home shall be left standing." She shifts her weight, a subtle change in stance from diplomat to deadly. "If you refuse, I cannot make the same promise."

"You are but three warriors," the woman scoffs, and Rodney watches as Ronon smiles, sharp and gleaming like the blade of a knife.

"We got all the way here, didn't we?" John offers, and Rodney clocks, now, the small signs of a previous struggle on each of them. They fought their way in, he realizes.

"They must be in the wizard's thrall, to be so willing to offer their own lives for his," whispers another bureaucrat. "Truly his powers are fearsome indeed."

"Let him go," Teyla says, her voice taking on a steeled edge, "and we will return beyond the stars, never to trouble your people again."

One of the guards moves closer to Rodney, puts a hand on his shoulder, and Rodney can hear Ronon growl.

"We're not leaving without him," John says, low and dangerous.

Someone leans in, whispers in the lead woman's ear, and she nods, turns to the guards.

"Release him," she says. "We do not wish to draw any more harm to our people."

"Once again," Rodney says, as they release his handcuffs, "not practicing any type of magic, and, if I were in fact capable of magic, wouldn't I have been able to teleport my way out of here in the first place?"

Teyla steps up, her eyes sweeping quickly over Rodney, taking inventory.

"It is good to see you unharmed." She reaches up, putting a hand on the back of Rodney's neck and drawing him in, pressing her forehead to his for the space of a few deep, quiet breaths.

"Why didn't you tell me you could do magic?" Ronon asks, his mouth quirked up at the side, and Rodney breathes out a laugh, rolls his eyes.

"As I said moments ago, if I could—"

"C'mon, McKay," John interrupts, clapping a hand on Rodney's back. To an untrained eye, it's a simple gesture of camaraderie, but Rodney's been on the receiving end of this touch enough times to know that John needs to feel out the solidity Rodney's body for himself, to know he's alright. "Atlantis needs its wizard king back."

[bluebeerg]

Feed me, Illie. Feed me all night long.

A little Halloween treat for our beloved Illie, and it comes with a singing blood-thirsty Portfish - It's her own Little Shop of Horrors!

I watched the movie the first time in October and got a little into it. Thought of Illie and her... one out of five lines of dialogue, but I think it's fun to imagine songs from the musical with adapted lyrics - "The guy sure looks like Portfood to me. The guy sure looks like Portfood to me!" - though I wouldn't know who to make the other characters

Below the cut are things that managed to stick around on the canvas, so I'm just going to explain both MSPaint thangs and adaptation AU things down there ... It's, uh... It's awfully long-winded.

Here's something rare. Because layers don't exist on MSPaint (I don't care for Windows 11 and AI image generation), you'll have to settle for other methods. One of them is just drawing over with another colour, since MSPaint has that cool eraser trick, and this is the other that makes use of MSPaint's faux-transparency. I'd always think of them like. "save states". Drawing in this program always was like the Ship of Theseus anyway.

The purpose of these were to, for whatever reason - whether it's making a mistake or erasing/drawing over too much or because of MSPaint's sometimes short undo memory, they're there to copy sections (or the whole thing if you want) and paste unto the one you're working on, like a bandaid. Or, if you've messed the whole thing up, you've got the back-up right there. It's the save state! For this, the arm and the shape of the Portfish gave me some trouble - which is why the sketch and just the lined part was put aside. It helps that MSPaint is so pixels and you're able to move the selected thing with the arrow keys.

This is kind of a big example, where the whole drawing is put to the side, but it can be smaller things too. For this, it was cases of arms and her glasses and buckets and Portfish (as seen later below) etc.

Here's a example that I managed to dig up from Artfight of Binx that shows both drawing with different colours and the scattered bits put to the side.

Obviously the right was a WIP. These things never stick around when getting to the final product, so having all of these Illies stick around after was great to write this much about. Moving on...

When drawing Find Everything, I do try to stick to the art style (while incorporating my own elements) - but I feel as if Illie is much more realistic compared to, say, Capri or Mayor Majig who's emphasis is on silhouette and strong poses. For example, hands. Hands in Find Everything can be varied, but are always consistent and usually simple or cartoonish. Capri has circles for hands, Mayor Majig has mitten for hands. But I look at Illie and her four-fingered hand (not uncommon, Orsten and Ratthew have them too), the subtle distinction between her shoulder and her arm, the roundness of her elbow (which has inconveniently been erased...), the single fabric fold on her dress, the shape of her hand against her hip...

What was I talking about? Oh, right, somewhat adhering to Find Everything's art style where possible. I always like to keep in mind other characters when drawing. Seymour Illie's (Illie Krelborn's?) fly specifically call back to Chatti, while her collar and cuffs nod to Mayor Majig (although his coat's cuffs are only sometimes seen, and I would've liked to have Illie's collar flared out more to match Seymour's) - though, I did briefly think to have a triangular neckline, but a rounder one is a nice connection to Illie's original sprite. Another was placing Seymour's iconic glasses on top of Illie's head instead of it being in her hair - a big part of it being because of how the bridge of the glasses blending into Illie's hair, but the other being because I think Illie is needing of a top-of-the-head accessory as a stand-in for her sunhat. After all, both drawing and seeing her without the accessory was a bit odd. But I did look to other glasses-wearing NPCs for that and, I suppose fun fact, I guess Purrtrude and Bouncer (and I suppose Radical Duck) are the only characters who have a gap between the lenses of their glasses to have a bridge- despite the number of NPCs that wear sunglasses. I did also think of Lennard, who has those solid white glasses lens, which Purrtrude does have also.

I did worry a little about the cream of the vest outlining the zipper line breaking the art style (only Ratthew really has the line of his zipped-up jacket showing), which is why you see the three of them showing a difference there - but I decided to hell with it. The Find Everything NPC art style is versatile and changing anyhow, and the back of Seymour's vest is that same colour. I felt the same with the pants pockets, but I wasn't too worried about it since... It was plausible enough, and Seymour puts his hands in his pockets enough for it to matter. To me, at least (I call back to his little bridge in Feed Me where he wanders over to the mirror). It kind of went similarly with the pattern on her dress shirt - Seymour's subtly patterned shirts were important to me, and I think it just looked better.

The Illie on the right shows the original idea for her expressed in the sketch above, where she has the glasses in her hair, none of that beige in the middle or pant decoration.

You would think it would be a bit of pre/mid-sketch, but I drew these in the middle of lineart (or colouring, I don't remember) out of boredom or need of change, and out of the possible need to have an obstructed look at Illie in her Little Shop outfit. It did help regardless in terms of messing with colours though, and quickly redrawing Illie's sprite was fun.

Speaking on colours, the left one uses altered default MSPaint colours, the right uses altered colours picked from Illie's sprite - with the browns coming from Illie's dress, the beige coming from her yellow accents (which just turned into a sad yellow-green), and the shirt coming from her sunhat. The middle, of which is the final and accepted Seymour Illie, uses a combination of the two.

Portfish things! It was a bit of a struggle to make Portfish look less like a goofy little guy and more like a living, intelligent, and conniving creature.

Its walleyes were a bit of a problem, before I realised when drawing it that wait... Portfish doesn't need eyes. Especially if Illie gets to look more like Seymour, then it being without eyes makes it look closer to Audrey II. It also reminds me of the Flappy Fish in Bloohoo Beach. If they can be without mouths, who's to say Portfish can't be without eyes!

I did want to keep it's iconic gaping mouth, but it never did sit right - kind of looks like a leech, no? - and the Portfish can close its mouth anyway (thus a different shape), so its wicked smile was a fine excuse enough.

There was also something about the state of the bucket, whether it would be lined or lineless. Originally, I wanted the bucket to be lineless to imitate the 3D word and objects of Find Everything, but it clearly looked better for it to be cohesive to Illie. It's not like it's entirely unheard of for NPCs to use temporary 2D props either (see: Epic Monkey signing the Celebrity Autograph).

Some other variations to the water bucket I had thought of was adding a state of rust or wear to it, with it being alike to the dinky used can that Seymour first puts Audrey II in, or having it be a beach toy-like bucket as Illie is found in Bloohoo Beach (and it could be a little nod to the Sandcastle Thing, with it's toy spade), but ultimately these were left only as brainstorms for time, as I wanted to finish drawing this in time for Halloween fhsdkh (which it was, this whole spiel is what took it so long to be uploaded here)

And yeah... That's it! Something about the water having that wavy pattern to resemble the water texture of Find Everything, and yep! There's that for you! The End. Don't Feed the Ports or something.

[iconoclast-infidels]

Because I should force myself to still journal even though I'm not in the mood.

Things I want to say to him.

What is your current favorite movie? Your current favorite song? Bands? Series? New hobbies? I should already know your current favorite obsession. I hate I don't know what current favorite anything is right now. I wonder what you're painting, sculpting, drawing. eating. Are you eating? Are you even doing anything fun at all? Why does that hurt me if you are? Why does that hurt me if you're not? I can't stand the thought of you drowning out there without me and I hate the thought of you thriving without me. Your solitude is my isolation. I thought you never wanted to hurt me? Don't you realize what you need is my torture? FUCK IT. I probably deserve it anyway. I miss putting ice cubes in the tub for Gary. Okay. I'm lying. I put the ice cubes in the tub for Gary even without Gary there. What kind of home doesn't have a penguin in the tub? I can't breathe. The boars look bored. I keep thinking I should throw them a corpse Munch munch munch. Corpsie munchies for wittle evil boars. HA! But can't bring myself to do it because I only want to throw them mine. I have to stay alive for when you get back.

You are coming back right? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. This is taking forever. I am not a Guns N Roses song. I am not good at Patience. Axle Rose can fuck right off. I'm trying here.

I could just peek. Just a for a minute. A second. Just to see if you're okay. Good God I hope you're okay. Fuck you God. BLAH blah blah. I can hear it now. Don't blame God for this. Blame myself. Blame you. Actions have consequences or no no no I got it - everything isn't about you Nico. No actually fuck that. This affects me too. So, Fuck that. It is about me.

Favorite things this week:

Picking cat hair off the couch. Not sure why this is so satisfying. I did not throw it away though. It's the only way I can pretend to pet Lisbeth right now.

Changing the guitar strings as if I was going to play it and then not playing it but damn it's ready to go if I ever get the mojo back. It is so not back.

Walked in the graveyard and told the Hell Radio to shut the Hell up. Then l laughed at myself because it made too much sense. Shut. The Hell. Up. Literally. I kill myself. I wonder if Hell has stand up comedians? Maybe I should try a change in carreers? I'd probably need a carreer first... or yanno... a job at all. Am I rambling in journal mode? Fuck. I am. I'mma stop now.

I can't even do journal right.

OR wait. Is this exactly what journal is for?

Maybe. I don't know. But I miss Dmitry.

I'm so frustrated

And it's closing in on second Christmas. He wouldn't really miss second Christmas. Would he?

[a-bombyx-mori]

poking around on spotify earlier and saw that ghost hit 1 mil monthly listeners,,, holy shit!! and their work has been a constant in my life for about 7 years now holy fuck.

gets me thinking about their impact and stuff. still have mixed emotions about everything because they sure did get good and bad attention while they were online. it's gotta be satisfying to see so many people enjoy your art and music and for them to even pay for it. then there's all the problems that come with any fanbase or online presence in general. and I've been here a while so here's just a few things that stand out to me about. everything? things I've thought about a bit?

(this became a long reflection ramble thing whoops.)

I've never really had other songs or writing at all describe the weird mental shit I've been through. yep, it's probably dumb, but ghost and pals songs helped me identity my problems. they became a source of catharsis when I was in fucking middle school and still are to this day. hell, evolve was the first thing that got me thinking I had been in a horrible relationship (along with twisted love ofc). aoapp was a reflection of my anxious attachment for a long time. I wouldn't have been able to make personal progress the past few years without analyzing songs too much.

and don't get me started on their drawings,, their artstyle has always been so charming in its own way. for a long time I tried to emulate their techniques so I could be an artist too. AND THEIR PV EDITING?? mgnghfh full course meal. I still set stills as backgrounds every so often. the fucking colorbars picture was my email background for years until google decided to stop loading it sometime last year.

I still admire them so much.

but there's also things they did that feel off. like I'll never get over how the new chattering was supposed to be a joke. you can't go and make a polished banger showing off your improvement and then say "yeah lol I only did this cause my friend joked about doing it so I said bet." or smth along those lines. (ghost said they remade it cause creep-p joked about it. in a tweet I think? gotta find it.) at that point, it also becomes a slight against your fans. you can't act like everything you make is (essentially) worthless without unintentionally shaming those who enjoy it. it's like that one mirror reflection picture thing.

the whole deletion of specific songs/most of their old discography is also it's own complex beast. ideally, an artist should be in control of when their art is displayed, but you give up that agency when using the internet. hell, there's mirrors of my old Instagram pages, and I'm nowhere near ghost's notoriety. thats the nature of the internet. shit is saved and copied and reuploaded all the time. the only way you can prevent that is by not uploading it at all or going through copyright law/terms of use/etc.

when I first started listening to ghost, they had their old work in an unlisted playlist. cool. then another channel I believe? then later on there was no official way of getting them so ofc people reuploaded them. was that the best thing to do? nope. but people enjoy their old songs and wanted access to them. and not everyone has a local back-up of music cause they're afraid it'll become inaccessible lost media.

them deleting most of their music vids is similar. this happened around like 2018ish? people started reuploading their current songs because. guess what. they weren't officially avaliable. people were thanking translators and such who had the pvs on their channel because they had access to it again. I believe something like this happened a second time but I don't remember for sure.

THIS DOESN'T EXCUSE ANY OF THE PATREON LEAKS BTW. those were paywalled benefits so that's a fundamental breach of privacy (and site rules, I'm p sure).

also less serious thing but they set up a premiere at the end of 2019 for a new song or whatever and it turned out to be a fucking joke too. just like a dr phil picture or smth. only upset at that cause back then I'd get the biggest fucking adrenaline rush whenever they were about to release something. then again I was also depressed as hell so that's an old me problem imo.

there's probably other drama or whatever I'm completely forgetting about, but probably for the better. in the end it's all about the art we're here for in the first place, and the artist behind it. I hope they're doing well after detaching from social media.

uh. long essay thing over now. I think

[strangerthingsmademebi]

Wicked Game

~ Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader~

Summary: You and Chrissy have been dating for a few months but when senior prom comes around you know you can’t go together. So you came up with a plan that will allow you to spend the night with the love of your life even if that means having to see Jason Carver dance with your girl .

warnings: swearing, angst, a bit of fluff. It`s the 80`s so there hints to people being homophobic. Also sorry if the descriptions of senior prom are wrong, I'm not American and so i can only base it off of films. not proofread. 

Senior Prom. 1986

The one night a year that teachers didn`t give a fuck. But you did. And you had worked so hard to get here. Everyone had. It was the last big school event before graduation and you couldn't have been more ecstatic. You were one step closer to getting out of this hell hole called Hawkins. 

The theme this year was “Movie Magic” and you had spent weeks finding the perfect outfit. You were going as Sandy from Grease and to say you looked sexy would be an understatement. 

Even though you couldn`t spend the night with the girl of your dreams you still planned to make it memorable. You and your girlfriend Chrissy had devised a plan to allow you to go to prom together without drawing too much attention. 

Double date. 

You would each take a guy as your date and go as a party of four to prom. It wouldn't be suspicious because everyone assumed you were just close friends and so it wouldn't be surprise that you two would go to prom together. 

It was the perfect plan. Until it wasn`t. 

Chrissy was so beautiful in her pastel pink dress. She had gone as Baby from Dirty Dancing and it could not have been a better choice. You had to stop your self from running up and kissing her when you first saw her. 

Everything was going well. You were laughing and dancing and drinking punch like there was no tomorrow. That was until a slow song came on and you found yourself watching Chrissy across the dance floor while you danced with your “date”. Ben was nice but defiantly not your type. His breath smelled like onion and his hands were always sweaty but you guess what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. 

You were swaying from side to side and trying to listen to what he whatever nonsense he was rambling on about. But you couldn't take your eyes off her. Why was she laughing? Jason wasn`t funny he was the biggest ass you had ever met. He was the first to ask her so you had to put up with him for one night and one night only. 

Ugh!! He needed to move his hands away from her ass or you would do it for him. His arms around her. Staring at her with hearts in his eyes. A part of you pitied the boy. But the other part of you so desperately wanted to be in his place at that moment in time.

It was getting to much so you extricated yourself from Ben and muttered something about getting some punch.

That was how you found yourself standing by the punch bowl with a scowl.

Why did you agree to this? Would anyone really expect anything, I mean tones of girls went together as friends . We’re you really that paranoid that you were  missing out on spending your senior prom with the only person you ever want to be around?

Yep.

You were that scared but with good reason. You don’t know how people would react and you didn’t want to find out.

But looking at Chrissy. Your Chrissy. You couldn’t do it anymore. Your breathing started to quicken and your hand curled into a fist. You had to get out of there before you punched someone . Most likely Jason for how he was looking at your girl.

And so you found yourself outside the back of the school with your back pressed closely to the wall. You tried to catch your breath and tilted your head towards the star sprinkled sky. God. This was your senior prom and here you were. Alone and trying to fight off tears. 

A sound made your head whip towards the door and to your shock Chrissy appeared. Seeing your distraught state she immediately rushed towards you. 

“Y/N?, what wrong sweetheart?” 

You quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen and looked down. 

“Nothing. I`m just being stupid.” you murmured embarrassed to be caught.

“ Sweetie, Hey, Don`t say that. Please. Why are you out here all alone?” Chrissy spoke softly and with such love that you couldn't help but meet her eyes. 

“ I….. guess i got a little jealous” you answered quietly so she could only just hear what you said. 

“Jealous?” she stifled a little chuckle and reach out to touch your cheek. She gently brushed the apple of your cheek with her thumb while she gazed at you. God her eyes. they were so beautiful how can they even be real. How can they be in front of you and looking at you with such love and admiration while you tell her your stupid  insecurities. “Of what?” 

“You … and Jason.” You looked down in embarrassment but Chrissy used her pointer finger to tip your chin back up. She looked at you with such sincerity and something to say seriously? him ?.

“Oh baby.” She pulled you closer and her lips gently brushed against yours. She smelt and tasted like honey and if felt like you saw heaven (which you swear you saw every time you were with her).

 “ You know i only love you. He's just a beard as is Ben. I`d much rather spend tonight with you especially now that my feet are bruised from the amount of times he's stepped on them tonight.” She chuckled softly. You eyes widen upon hearing she's hurt even if it was an accident. She saw this and rubbed your arm to bring you back to what she was saying.

 “ I defiantly don't like him especially not like that.” She faked a gag which brought the first real smile of the night to your face. Chrissy smiled back and cupped your face with her hands. 

“I'm yours baby and your mine. Ben can piss off and Jason can go fuck himself for all i care. Your my person. Nothing is going to change that Y/N. Nothing!” 

Your shoulders relaxed at that and you pulled her into a passionate kiss which left you both breathless. How were you so lucky? 

“I love you Chrissy. And if Jason ever hurts you again i will end him! I don't care if it an accident no one hurts my girl.” Chrissy chuckled at your statement and hid her head in your neck. She's so warm and cute it made your heart melt. 

“How about we get out of here and go back your place?” Chrissy mumbled into your neck. The vibration sent tingles down your neck. 

“That sounds perfect baby.” You whispered against the crown of her head. Suddenly there was noise that came from the door into the school and stumbling out came Robin Buckley and a girl you could only assume was Vicky. Robin and you had grown close when everything with the upside down was happening. She was one of the only people who knew about you and more specifically you and Chrissy. You also knew about her crush and Vicky and so to see them like this sprouted a seed of hope in your chest that your friend might find the same happiness and love that you felt.  

The two girls were holding hands and giggling which abruptly stopped when all four of you made eye contact. An unspoken understanding settled over everyone.

 A laugh broke the silence and you turned to find Chrissy with a tightened face trying to hold in the rest of her laughs. Soon everyone was laughing loudly. As it died down Robin reached for Vicky's hand and pulled her away to find another hiding spot. As she walked past you held out you hand for Robin to discreetly high five you. 

You turned back to Chrissy and wiped away a tear of joy before holding her soft hand in yours. 

With grins on your faces you walked back to the parking lot but as you left neither of you noticed the flickering street lamp that illuminated your car...

authors note: dun dun dun..... i may do a part two if this does well but i hope you enjoyed this one-shot. side note - why is there such a limited number of Chrissy stories !!!! I may as well just write my own ahahaha.