#because the songs used had such an impact on how i watched these shows

[jyoongim]

Hola, I was wondering for an Alastor x reader (which isn’t particularly romantic if you don’t want it to be) where the reader needed a job and started working at the hotel?

But she’s pregnant (and hell born) so she’s struggling a bit and he helps her out with stuff when she’s tired :)

Alastor x pregnant!hellborn!reader

Something cute and fluffy to read

——————————————————————————

When you found yourself pregnant you were in shock.You didn’t know what to do or where to go. 

You had saw an ad for a hotel in need of a another maid and decided you would give it a go.

The hotel was ran by the Princess of Hell, who happily accepted you. She had told you the hotel was for sinners seeking redemption. You thought it was odd, but a job was a job.

You were hesitate to tell her of your condition, thinking she would turn you down but she didn’t. She had told you the farther along you got that it was okay to ask for help.

So now you were a maid at the Hazbin Hotel.

All the residents were…surprisingly nice.

You sheepishly introduced yourself and hoped to get along with everyone. The hotel wasn’t in the worst state, but it could use a good polishing.

Niffty was often with you to assist when you couldn’t clean certain places.

The sunlight had alerted you that you needed to wake up and start your day. You sighed as you rolled out of bed and put on your uniform. You pouted as your belly poked through the material, you were about six months now and it was showing.

You made your way downstairs to head to the kitchen to begin cleaning, knowing you might have missed breakfast.

Charlie had been kind enough to leave you a list of things that needed sprucing up.

You were thankful that the kitchen wasn’t in too much of a mess.

Grabbing empty dishes and turning on the water, you began to clean.

You hummed a little song as you busted the suds. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t notice when Alastor waltzed into the kitchen.

Alastor’s ears perked when he saw you. You rarely saw the demon as you were usually busy, but he was pleasant company to keep.

”Good morning my dear! What a fine hellish day it is!” He chirped, causing you to spin around. You smiled “good morning Alastor” as you continued rinsing and piling dishes on the counter.

The two of you chatted as he made a cup of coffee and took a seat at the table. You had finished washing everything and now to put things up.

You frowned when you got to the cups. You couldn’t reach the cabinets and putting too much strain on your back wasn’t good for the baby.

”How’s the little on fairing you my dear? It seems you’ve grown since the last time I saw you” the red demon inquired as he watched you try to figure out what to do with the cups.

You laughed ”heavy. It seems I am in need to let out a few inches in my uniform.” You rubbed your belly.

You spotted the tiny stool that Niffty used and smiled.

Shuffling a bit, you angled it so you could reach.

You were almost done placing everything when you misreached for a cup and because your center of gravity was off, you found yourself tilting off

”Aaah!” You squealed clenching your eyes ready for impact, when you fell into a firm chest.

”careful my dear” 

you opened your eyes and see that Alastor was supporting you. You smiled sheepishly and thanked him, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

But the demon hummed as he carried you to the lobby and sat you down on a couch. “Al! I’m fine besides I have to other things to clean today” you pouted.

His brows frowned “nonsense! You can’t possibly clean in this state” 

You huffed “Iam perfectly fine. Just didn’t realize how off balance I am now”

You stood, thanked him and went about you day.

But maybe he was right.

Your list was almost finished, but you had one last thing to do.

It was almost the late evening and you were tired from buzzing around the hotel. You were tired, sweaty, your feet felt swollen, and your back ached.

You growled in annoyance when you felt your baby kick as you scrubbed a mysterious spot on the rug.

”I’m almost finished and i promise you’ll get some grub” you patted your belly hoping to soothe the angry soul, but it seemed your baby was irritated.

A sharp kick made you hiss as you wrung out your sponge.

You checked the time, you didn’t know it had gotten so late.

Your stomach growled in protest as you hadn’t really ate anything all day.

You sighed and decided a quick break wouldnt hurt.

Huffing you took a seat on the couch and sighed in relief to be off your feet.

You didn’t notice that you had dozed off when a hand gently shook you.

Alastor.

”Oh Al did you need something? I didn’t even realized I had fell asleep” you rubbed your eyes.

The red demon snapped his fingers and a plate of food appeared. You blinked in confusion “You seemed tired so no one wanted to bother you, but Charlie was worried you hadn’t eaten today. You need to take better care of yourself dear. Its not just you you need to think about” He nudged a piece of fruit towards you.

You got teary-eyed. You had been feeling like more of a burden, but everyone did care about you, even the evil Overlord.

You graciously accepted the food and damn near went feral when you realized how hungry you were.

You patted your belly happily stuffed, your baby pressing against you, guess the little soul was happy as well.

”May I?” Alastor asked, eyes focused on your belly. You smiled. You didn’t take Alastor for the touchy type, but who could resist a pregnant woman?

You took his hand and pressed it against where your baby was resting. Your body buzzed as his static surrounded you and your baby kicked at his hand.

You let out a giggle “I think the baby likes you Al”

He smiled “oh I’m sure it’ll turn out to be as lovely as its mother”

You made a motion to get up and Alastor helped hoisting you up

”why don’t you take a rest hmm? Wouldn’t want you to be a sack of bone now would we?”

He escorted you to your room and you smiled at him as you opened your door.

”Thanks Alastor I really appreciate everything” you quickly pressed your lips to the demon’s cheek and giggled as static popped and wished him a goodnight.

Maybe raising a baby in a hotel wasn’t all that bad.

[feyhunter78]

Can you please do part two of Pink Pastels? Thank you 🩷

I definitely can!!! I'm honestly such a sucker for dual povs I swear it's like my calling card, so this chapter is in Miguel's pov! Fun fact: the bf in this story is based off my best friend's college boyfriend who showed up high out of his mind to her place of work SEVERAL times (I obvi changed his name though bc I'm a nice person)

Pt 3

Pink Pastels Pt 2

Miguel searches through every database, has Lyla run your face, your name, every detail he can find about you, and yet you only seem to appear here, in this universe where he swoops in right as your universe’s Miguel dies.

No one notices the switch. Not even his coworkers at Alchemax. In fact, they seem to welcome his “new attitude,” and he finds himself with a raise within the first two months.

This universe is quiet, the other him died from a fluke, embarrassingly enough. But it was so random, so unpredictable, that no one questioned “his” survival. So, life goes on as it had before, how he had watched it go on before.

The old woman who lives next door and watches Gabi when he’s “called into work late,” smiles at him, praises him for working so hard for his daughter. Gabi wakes up in the morning to him, her father, like always, eats breakfast, strawberries, blueberries, and honey on her toast, scrambled eggs with cheese, tomatoes, peppers, and a glass of milk. Then he drops her off at school on his way to work.

The monitors beep at him, and he turns back towards them. Finally, it’s found you in his universe, the victim of a plane crash, years before Gabi would even be born. It’s a painless death. You were among those killed on impact. Gone in a moment, but as he watches you here, in this new universe where his daughter is happy and thriving, he realizes just how desperately he wished he would have found you before you ever set foot in that airport.

“She’s pretty.” Lyla says, leaning forward, a teasing smile on her face. “Looks like someone’s got the hots for teacher?”

“No.” He deadpans, though he can’t tear his eyes from you. You’re sitting in a Mexican restaurant giggling into your margarita, another woman—Janey—sits across from you shoveling chips and queso into her mouth, making you laugh even harder.

You’re in that pink dress from earlier. It brightens your skin, hugs your curves but in a modest way, it’s more than appropriate for a teacher to wear, but he’s salivating at the thought of his talons tearing through it and exposing the soft flesh beneath.

Would you cry out for him? Cling to him as he fucks you? You look so pretty in pink, and he wants to go slow, keep you in that color for as long as possible, but he knows himself better than that. The moment he’s able to, he’ll shred the garment, leaving ribbons of fabric in his wake as he bends you over the nearest piece of furniture and slams into you. He wants to feel your warmth around him, hear you begging for him, his name falling from your perfect lips as he gropes your breasts, fangs scraping down your throat, marking you as his.

You laugh again at something the waiter said, and it’s musical, and perfect, you are perfect.

A twinge of jealousy, a foolish thing he knows, but the thought passes through his mind. It should be him making you laugh. He’s studied you now, he knows exactly what makes you laugh, what songs you hum as you prepare your classroom for the day, how you keep colorful Band-Aids in your purse because you just can’t turn off being a teacher, Janey.

And you’re Gabi’s favorite teacher, he wasn’t lying when he told you she talked about you, though he may have added the pretty part. She goes on and on about you, to the point where he almost doesn’t need the cams, he can get every bit of information from his daughter.

“And then, Ms. Y/N told us about her trip to Disney World! She went with her boyfriend, but I don’t know why.” Gabi says, collecting the animal shaped macaroni on her fork. He let her pick dinner, feeling guilty that he didn’t know she’d cried over her lost tooth.

He feels guilty about snapping at you too. He was already worked up, his job, the multiverse, traffic. And last night he forgot all about the Tooth Fairy, so in the morning Gabi was afraid the Tooth Fairy didn’t like her. But you don’t get rewards for losing things once you’ve grown up, and the idea of Gabi going into that pain blindly, having to watch as those she loves disappears around her makes him want to rip his heart from his chest.

“What do you mean Mija?” He asks, his own forkful of mac and cheese halfway to his mouth.

How had he missed you having a boyfriend? Was it serious? Did he treat you well? How easy would it be to make him disappear?

“Well, Ms. Y/N was really happy when she was talking about her trip, but then when she mentioned her boyfriend, she got sad.” Gabi explains, a frown tugging at her lips. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah?” He prompts her, fighting the urge, to call up Lyla and have her run a search for your boyfriend.

“He came in one time on her birthday, but he was all weird and smelled bad.” Then she got up from the table and mimed stumbling and swaying. “And he walked like this. Ms. Y/N was really mad. Plus, he didn’t even bring her a present.”

Your boyfriend showed up to an elementary school—your place of work on your birthday, drunk, with no gift.

“That’s not nice, when was Ms. Y/N’s birthday?” If he was speaking to anyone but his daughter, he was sure they’d see right through them, but his sweet girl thought nothing of it.

“Last week, I wanted to tell you about it, but you were on your trip, so I told Tia Margo.”

Tia Margo, the old woman next door. He needs to speak with her about letting him know there was a drunk at his daughter’s school. Maybe next time he sees her in the hall, he’ll mention it to her.

“I wish you had told me, then maybe we could’ve gotten her a gift to make up for it.” He says, smiling at her, so she knows he’s not upset.

“I don’t think one gift would make it all better, she’s sad about her boyfriend a lot.” She emphasizes the last word, making the ending sound sharp as she stabs at her food.

“It sounds like he’s a bad boyfriend. Make sure you stay away from boys like him, Mija.” He can’t help but feel protective, even though she’s only six.

He watches as she eats, her hair in a simple braid, a sparkly pink hairband tying it off. “Who did your hair?”

She stops and proudly holds the braid up. “Ms. Y/N, well Emma did it first, but then it fell out when I did a cartwheel, so Ms. Y/N fixed it, and she said I could keep the hairband.”

If he focuses, he can smell the scent of you, mingled with the scent of his home, as if you’re already beside them in your rightful place.

“Maybe we should get her a thank-you gift?” He suggests, his heart warming at the excitement on Gabi’s face.

She is so good, so pure, and sweet. She is nothing like him, and yet she is everything he wished for her to be. He doesn’t know her mother, not in his original universe, but he knows her in this one, watched the other him break down over her leaving. Agony is a cannon event, no interference allowed. He hopes she never returns, that she stays away from his daughter. Doesn’t ruin her with her selfishness.

Just as your boyfriend is ruining you.

He waits until Gabi’s asleep to call out for Lyla. She appears and raises an eyebrow at the way he clutches your hairband.

“She has a boyfriend, find me everything you can on him.”

“I knew you had the hots for her.” Lyla laughs, disappearing before he can dismiss her.

He waits, packs Gabi’s lunch, slips two dollars under her pillow because he’ll be damned if his daughter believes some magical creature doesn’t like her, then cleans the kitchen and his bedroom three times over until finally Lyla returns.

“Okay, boss, you’re gonna want to sit down for this.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @aeryns--playground

[filynxs]

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ Bullies. I part two

pov: You had p.e., and your teacher wanted you all to get a partner to practise boxing techniques. To your bad luck, you got one of your bullies as a partner. Sukuna.

pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

content: bully x reader, physical violence, boxing, injuries

a/n: read part one here

song: Government Hooker - Lady Gaga

As if your day hadn‘t began badly enough already, you had to wear a patch on the side of your head because of your earlier encounter with Sukuna and Satoru. The spot still felt warm and throbbed against the bandage, and this annoyed you. However, you couldn‘t have just used your cursed energy to heal it. After all, someone would notice…

"Hey, partner," Sukuna approached you with tall strides, his fist hitting his palm with force as he did so. A grin laid over his lips, and you could sense he was trying to intimidate you.

"Partner? Who said I would choose you?" you inquired, furrowing your brows at him before your gaze strayed away at the other students in your course. Yet, the only thing you could see was pairs of people who‘d train together, leaving no one else for you to choose behind.

"I‘m the only option you have," Sukuna purred in your direction, gradually circling you with steps that were tinted by smugness. "Let‘s fight."

A sigh escaped you when you spun around to face him, balling your hands into fists. His grin widened in response, and his eyes were staring back at yours as if every hint of mercy had left that guy. It nearly seemed like he was… excited.

With a mere finger movement, he motioned for you to confront him. His casual stance made him look defenseless, hence you attempted your first attack.

When your fist was about to land on his stomach with all your strength, he caught it with ease, flipping you over to throw you to the floor. He lowered himself to press his knee against your bum, making it hard for you to get up.

"You‘re not using your whole power," he growled under his breath, watching you squirm beneath him. A frown had formed on your face, and you gasped for air.

"Sukuna, you are only supposed to practise the boxing techniques I showed you!" your teacher called out to you two, thus Sukuna let go off you. He sighed in frustration — as if realizing he forgot about the fact that you two were not alone in the school gym.

You climbed back onto your wobbly feet, brushing the dusk off your clothes before facing him again. Your chin was slightly bruised because of how you had landed on the floor earlier, and you could feel your knees slightly throbbing in ache. It felt like a heavy weight was still pushing down on your knees, making it hard for you to stand.

"You heard what our teacher said," you stated with a soft huff, crossing your arms in front of your chest that heaved with every heavy breath you took.

Sukuna snorted, slightly wrinkling his nose in the process.

"Yeah," he chortled. "But that won‘t stop me from forcing you into using your full strength." And with that, he moved toward you at an incredible speed, nearly as fast as light. It was difficult for you to catch his figure before he would reach you, but you put your arms up in front of your face to catch his attack.

When he stroke your arms, the impact of his strength caused you to slide a few feet away from him. For you, his power was nearly unbelievable. You never thought that someone as strong as him could exist.

He attempted another attack, but before he could hit you, you dodged his arms and reached for a blow into his side. You managed to hit him, however, that little punch of yours didn‘t do anything to him.

"That‘s all you can do?" he asked, snickering when he straightened up from his fighting stance. "Come on, try harder."

Rapidly, he ran toward you. At first, it seemed like he would attack your face, hence you dodged his arms. Nevertheless, what he had actually planned was to kick your legs away, and when he did so, he caused you to land on your butt. The harshness of your landing sent a sharp pain from your bum through your legs, causing your thighs to shake.

You winced in discomfort, and your breath caught in your throat.

"How boring," he commented. As you looked up at him, he stared down at you with a smug look on his tattooed face. He couldn‘t suppress a grin when he saw you on the floor in front of him, all weak and whiny, even though you had much more potential deep inside your chest.

"And such a waste of potential."

part three: here

[mechaknight-98]

Outrage (NSFW) FT Nayoung (Lightsum)

Author’s Notes: this piece came about in a kind of silly way. It arose as a challenge from another writer I know. He’s seen my stuff and finds it really interesting, but there’s some repetitiveness to the content so as a challenge he said write a mature story without smut, and loads of cursing. So this came about. Now granted it still probably has some bad habits of mine but it is thematically different and heavier emotionally. Note you have been warned

The young man walked up to the sound stage for the talk show he would be performing at. It was the last of many mini promotions he’d been asked to do since his side project “Kraken” took off. He was tired but excited. He hoped that this would lead to his main project “The Flying Dutchman” finally getting the traction it deserves. He flashed his ID to the guard when the guard gave him a funny look the young man replied.

“It should be under Kraken,” the guard smiled and let him in while saying, “You know that song goes hard. I love all of the little wordplays you do, and your voice modulation how did you make some of those sounds?”

The young man smiled “Oh studio magic I guess”

“Well, Mr Jones or should I say Kraken have a good time on the Late Show.” The guard said

Mr. Jones smiled and said, “I’ll try” After getting through the guard Mr jones bumped into his label representative Michael Hale. Well, bumped is the incorrect word. Mr Jones stood confused for a large portion of time as he tried to see where to go for the interview. The hustle and bustle of the stage made it hard to know where to go.

“Ah, Davy or I guess I should call you Kraken good to see you made it. Oh and don’t you look sharp” He said

Davy Jones nodded and said, “Last show, I had to show off for my hometown”

“Well great because you’re on first thing. It’s a simple song “Buy it Back”. Answer a few questions then you’re home free. Mike said

Kraken nodded and walked into his marked place.

“after performing his viral hit Kraken walked over to the talk show host for an interview”

“So that "buy it back" huh? It’s a great song with the cool edge to it that makes it feel like getting into a cold beach on a hot day.” Kraken chuckled as he nodded.

“I guess that’s true, but yeah I wrote it a few weeks ago, and no one I reached out to performed it correctly so I just recorded it and did it,” Kraken said nonchalantly. The host nodded attentive but also a little manic. Kraken was uncomfortable with the host's jerky and spastic motions but kept to himself enough so it wasn’t a major issue. He meandered through the interview with an assertive calm that the interviewer felt.

“Next question, why Kraken it’s such a weird name?”

“It’s a Pirates of the Caribbean joke. In it, Davy Jones has two things he leads. The Kraken and the Flying Dutchman. The Flying Dutchman is a team-led thing and my main band is called The Flying Dutchman so when I wanted to do something solo I came up with “Kraken” because Davy Jones controls that alone, and for this side project it’s just me.” Kraken explained

“Okay next question: not since Dazzler’s last mega-hit Sparkle Sparkle has a mutant artist been in the top 100 charts you are also the first openly mutant male artist to make it in. How does that feel?”

Kraken thought about his answer as he looked into the crowd he thought about all the people watching at home and how I used to be like them.

“When I was about 15 or so a lot of bands I loved were hitting their stride; The Devil Wears Prada, Miss May I, Silent Planet, and Like Moths to Flame just to name a few. Their music helped me get through some of the rougher times growing up. Now that I’m older I feel responsible for being that for the next generation so in all my music endeavors like this one or The Flying Dutchman, I try to keep my music accessible and impactful. Me being a mutant is just who I am and hopefully not what makes me special” The interviewer nodded at Kraken’s question with an insincere smile and laughter.

“That’s such a great answer. Now how has being a mutant affected you? I have heard some of the songs of Flying Dutchman a lot of them seem to have a very hostile edge to them.”

Kraken considers his words carefully before saying, “I write from a place of contemplation a lot of the time and when you have a marginalized existence it’s hard kinda not to sound angry at times. Like when I was writing Spirit Ripper both of my sisters had just been attacked by members of the LGBTQ community for confronting them over their bad behavior. The members cited that my sisters were perpetuating harmful language and that it was self-defense to break my younger sister's arm who by the way is a very well-known political activist who supports LGBTQ rights and equality and for my oldest sister a white Lesbain woman threw a brick at her head even though my sister is a lesbian herself.”

The interviewer paused hearing that as he reconciled that he figured he’d lighten the tone by asking,

“So you’ve had it the easiest then.”

Kraken chuckled as he said, “Nope! I had to transfer colleges because I was falsely accused of sexual assault by my first college crush, which led to me developing an intense fear of intimacy with anyone but also led to this massive investigation that revealed that the girl’s boyfriend was abusing her and that this was the only way she could express some control over her life.”

Kraken looked at the room as the silence and shock was palpable. Realizing that this was getting dark fast the interviewer changed subjects.

“Okay, so last question who is Nayoung? You mention her three times and wrap up some of the song’s best punchlines using her name?”

Not expecting that last question but one about his mutant heritage and why was the song called Buy It Back so it took him a second to process the question.

“Oh um, Nayoung is a K-pop singer I find cute. She is in a group called Lights. Her name is easy to couch alliteration and rhyming couplets on so I did that a couple of times.

The interviewer smiled falsely now having control of the interview again and said,

“Well, we will have to check them out. While we happily await your next song see you later Kraken.” Kraken smiled got up and waved. When the cameras stopped rolling the interviewer’s face dropped from a smile into a frown.

“I hoped you enjoyed your 15 minutes of fame Mutie.”

Kraken smiled and said, “Of course, I try to never take anything for granted.”

As the interview across the world, Nayoung sat cross-legged on the couch, a bowl of popcorn in her lap, eyes glued to the television. Her group members were scattered around the living room, some scrolling through their phones, others half-watching the interview playing out on the screen.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy from The Flying Dutchman?” Chowon asked, looking up.

“Yeah, Davy Jones! I love his music,” Nayoung replied, her voice tinged with enthusiasm. She had been following his work ever since she first heard his powerful lyrics and unique sound. His music had helped her through some challenging times, and she admired his courage in being unapologetically himself.

As the interview progressed, Nayoung listened intently, nodding along to Kraken’s thoughtful responses. Then, the interviewer asked about the name that popped up in his songs: Nayoung. Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward, nearly spilling her popcorn.

“Oh my gosh, did he just say my name?” she exclaimed, her voice rising with excitement. The other members turned their attention to the screen, now curious.

Kraken’s explanation was casual yet sincere, and Nayoung felt a rush of warmth spread through her. “He thinks I’m cute!” she said, unable to hide her grin. “And he uses my name for rhymes. How cool is that?”

Her group members laughed and teased her, but Nayoung was too thrilled to care. To hear her name coming from someone she admired so much was a surreal experience.

As the interview wrapped up, she clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe it. I’ve got to send him a message or something. Maybe we can work together one day!”

The idea filled her with inspiration, and as she daydreamed about potential collaborations, her excitement was infectious, spreading to the rest of the room.

When she went to Cube the next day she was the talk of trainees, other groups, and management.

During practice one of the producers came in and asked for her. Her members teased her as she walked out. The producer and Nayoung paid them no mind.

“I take it you saw Kraken’s interview?” The producer asked. Nayoung’s pupils dilated to the eyes of saucers.

“You convinced Davy Jones to do a collab with us?” Nayoung asked her sparkling with joy.

“Um no but the higher-ups and I were wondering if you can convince him to work with us?”

Nayoung smiled and then realized that it probably meant he wouldn’t be Davy Jones but Kraken. She nodded and said, “I’ll help where I can.”

Davy Jones and the rest of “The Flying Dutchman” were working on their parts for the next album. AJ was focused on getting down some of the more intricate baselines that made this song Their most technically impressive one yet. Jojo was on drums trying different beats and fills to better match the rest of the song, while Douglas and Noah fought about everything as always. Davy Jones or as his friends called him JD was writing. As he always was. After about 15 minutes of tuning arguing and preparing JD got up from his notebook and they started working on new stuff.

“The Sky Breaks free while you Break me,” AJ (the clean vocalist) sang out as the kept working on the chorus. Despite AJ’s technical skills as a vocalist JD often found himself not liking the way he sounded on this specific Chorus. He felt that powerful wasn't what the song needed but a softer touch...maybe a feature, but who would he get? Their group was fledgling at best and he doubted he could call in any favors with his Kraken side project yet. The rest of the song sounded right but something was missing. He just didn’t know. As they finished up JD was reminded that the label would be expecting the album soon which he was aware of he just didn’t like it because he couldn’t nail the chorus.

After the recording session, Davy Jones drove home. His parents were watching his interview and congratulated him on the song again. He smiled and then went to his room where he checked his email on a miraculous whim.

He saw an email from Cube Entertainment with the subject Collaborating opportunity and his eyes went big. He read the email saying how Lightsum was willing to work on a couple of songs together. He did notice they used Kraken and not Davy which meant they expected Kraken but hey this gave him an opportunity, so he took it.

A few days later Davy Jones was on a video call with Lightsum who were all smiles to see him. He discussed what the collaboration would look like and how promotions for it would work. Davy Jones had two stipulations they also helped him with a song or two while he was out in South Korea recording, and for this collaboration, the girls get the brunt of the money made and writing credits. Cube was hesitant at first but when DJ said he would do their song for free they quickly agreed. Now the hard part getting an extension from his label. Davy Jones took out his phone and called his label representative.

“Hey Mike it’s Davy Jones. Is it possible to get a 9-day extension on the album?”

Mike was quiet for a moment. It wouldn’t delay anything as even now the boys were ahead of their schedule, but Mike was worried because when Douglas was the leader of the group and not Davy Jones they were constantly missing the mark on release dates. He decided to take a chance and ask why

“Well, I secured a feature for the last song. The only issue is I need to be in Korea to capitalize, after that’s finished I’ll send the last master to you.”

Mike was surprised that Davy Jones of all people was able to secure a feature but knew that this would be excellent for their sound at least for one song.

“Sure. I can manage a week.” Mike responded, and Davy Jones sighed relieved.

“You won’t regret this.” He said. Mike scowled and then said

“You haven’t flopped yet so I’m trusting you, Davy Jones, otherwise you’re sinking with the ship and no Kraken will save you.”

Davy Jones sighed and said, “Okay” he then thought about calling one of his bandmates to see if two of the group could go.

Davy Jones sat on the edge of his bed, his phone in hand, staring at the list of contacts. He scrolled through until he found the first name he was looking for: AJ, the bassist for The Flying Dutchman. Davy dialed the number, listening to the ringtone with anticipation.

“Hey, Davy! What’s up?” AJ answered, his voice cheerful.

“Hey, AJ! I’ve got some exciting news,” Davy said, trying to keep the enthusiasm in his voice. “I’m heading to South Korea to work with Lightsum, and I was wondering if you’d like to come along.”

There was a pause before AJ responded, his tone apologetic. “Man, I’d love to, but with Katie’s new job, it’s been hectic around here. She’d have to come with me, and I don’t think we can swing that right now.”

Davy nodded, even though AJ couldn’t see him. “I get it. No worries. We’ll catch up when I’m back.”

After ending the call, Davy dialed the next number on his list: Jojo, the drummer. He drummed his fingers on his knee as he waited for Jojo to pick up.

“Yo, JD!” Jojo greeted him, sounding as lively as ever.

“Hey, Jojo. I’ve got a proposal for you. How about joining me in Korea for a bit? It’ll be fun, and you know how much I’d love to have you there.”

Jojo laughed, but there was a hint of regret in his voice. “I wish I could, man. But with the twins starting school soon, Gina and I have our hands full. There’s no way I can leave right now.”

Davy sighed, understanding but still a bit disappointed. “Understandable. Family comes first.”

Next on the list was Douglas, the guitarist. Davy hoped at least one of his bandmates might be able to join him. He hit the call button and listened as it rang.

“Hey, Davy! What’s going on?” Douglas answered, his voice as laid-back as always.

“Hey, Douglas. So, I’m heading to Korea for some work with Lightsum. Thought I’d see if you wanted to tag along.”

Douglas hesitated, and Davy could almost hear him weighing his options. “Man, that sounds awesome. But I’ve got this big project at work, and I can’t get the time off. Plus, Melissa’s parents are visiting next week, and I promised we’d spend time with them.”

Davy chuckled, not surprised by the response. “No problem. Sounds like you’ve got your hands full.”

After hanging up, Davy leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. It looked like he’d be heading to Korea solo. Though he wished his bandmates could join him, he understood their commitments and knew they’d be cheering him on from afar.

With a sigh, he put his phone down and mentally prepared himself for the journey ahead, determined to make the most of the experience on his own.

A week before Davy Jones's visit Nayoung had a secret meeting with her CEO.

Nayoung sat across from the CEO in his sleek, minimalist office, the city skyline sprawling out behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The atmosphere was formal yet tense, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this meeting was more than just a routine update.

“Thank you for coming, Nayoung,” the CEO began, his tone cordial but businesslike. “As you know, Kraken, or Davy Jones, is coming to South Korea to work with Lightsum.”

“Yes, I heard. It’s exciting! I’m a big fan of his work,” Nayoung replied with a polite smile, trying to hide her nerves.

The CEO leaned forward, clasping his hands on the desk. “I am aware and we want to make sure his experience here is exceptional. His collaboration with us could open many doors. That's where you come in.”

Nayoung blinked, taken aback. “Me? What do you mean?”

“We’d like you to make him feel welcome, maybe even charm him a bit,” the CEO said, his words carefully chosen. “We believe that a personal connection might encourage him to engage more with our company, and of course bolster our efforts with Lightsum.”

Nayoung's heart sank. She had anticipated discussing schedules and logistics, not personal involvement beyond the music. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you asking me to…?”

“Not to deceive him, of course,” the CEO interjected quickly, sensing her discomfort. “Just be yourself, but perhaps a bit more attentive. Show him the best of our culture, our hospitality.”

Nayoung shifted in her seat, processing the request. It felt like more than just being friendly. “I can be welcoming and professional, but I want to make sure it’s all about the music and collaboration. That’s what I admire about him.”

“Of course, of course,” the CEO assured her, though Nayoung couldn’t help but feel there was more to it. “He’ll be here for a few weeks. You’ll have plenty of time to make an impression.”

Nayoung nodded, her mind racing with the implications. She understood the stakes and the potential benefits, but she also valued her integrity and the authenticity of the collaboration.

As the meeting wrapped up, Nayoung left the office with a sour taste in her mouth she couldn’t place. While she liked Davy’s performances and music she was unsure if she would mesh with her personality. Regardless she resolved to handle the situation with grace and to focus on what truly mattered: the music.

Flash forward to today Davy gets a text from Cube that a representative would be on the way. So he goes through baggage claim and walks out to Arrivals and pick-ups where he waits. Surprisingly the wait isn't long. A cube representative does pick him up...just not the one he was expecting.

Nayoung pulls up to the curb nervous. This was the first time meeting one of her heroes and she hoped to make a good impression. She walks out and waves happily to him, but all she sees is shock and fear on his face as Davy Jones gets in with his three bags she notices that he didn’t even let her try and grab one. His silence and almost visceral refusal of her help were unsettling to Nayoung, where was his humor where was the light-hearted banter? Was it all an act she wondered, or maybe he was just tired.

Davy was frightened seeing only Nayoung there to pick him up. Sensing some kind of trick his guard was immediately up. He didn’t speak he didn’t let her near him any more than she had to be.

As she drove Davy to the hotel she tried to speak to him.

“So how do you like it here so far?” Nayoung asked gently

Davy Shrugged as he responded ambivalent, “It’s pretty. The skyscrapers remind me of home. Except y’all have less heat.” Said gruffly

Overcome by her habit of mimicking people and desperate to break this frigid man who has distinct speech patterns Nayoung replied in a similar tone.

“I take it y’all gotta lot of heat back home?”

Davy Jones smiled and nodded.

Nayoung beamed. She got one of her favorite artists to smile and laugh she won at life.

“So where do you wanna go?” Nayoung asked.

“Can we go to a studio? I have some things I need to iron out.” Davy Jones said serious

“But studio time is planned for tomorrow. Aren’t you worried you won’t have anything to do tomorrow?”

Davy Jones shook his head surprising Nayoung who shrugged and found a studio. She was also surprised by his paying the full amount for two hours in paper won.

He headed in and started working on the song that had been giving him trouble running through everyone’s part quickly. This surprised Nayoung because she didn’t know that Davy could play multiple instruments, and do clean vocals. When he finished he turned to Nayoung and asked if she could come in and record a chorus.

“So um I have been having issues with this song. Do you have any idea what it needs?” Nayoung was still in shock so she asked for another play-through. Davy Jones obliged he played it through for Nayoung who listened to the demo when it finished she said "I think the chorus needs to be softer," Davy Jones nodded and responded, "You wanna do that?" Nayoung's eyes went wide, and in her excitement said, "Of course!" Davy Jones cracked a smile as he set Nayoung up in the studio. Nayoung was beaming and asked if he could run off the chorus without vocals. Davy Jones nodded and Nayoung did her recording. Unsurprisingly she was exactly what Davy needed for the song and made some adjustments to the chorus and tempo (which made Davy have to remix and adjust the chorus instruments) then the song was perfect. Kind of a blend of Basilisk By Like Moths to Flame and Ghost of Me by Make Them Suffer. After he finished the mix for it Davy added it to his hard drive. All the while Nayoung watched enchanted as he did all the tasks and positions to get it done. When they got back to the car she noticed Davy’s eyes dimmed a bit and his energy was down. It made Nayoung have this pit in her heart.

As the duo drove off Nayoung felt closer to Davy Jones like she had seen more of who he was than anyone else. She felt so close that when she dropped him off at the hotel she said beaming,

“That was so exciting. You are like this artistic machine it’s crazy. You were buzzing around like super fast. I have never had a recording go so fast and simple. Davy smiled and said,

“I know what I want and know how to get it.” A brief flash in Nayoung’s mind was that she wanted to be gotten by Davy but realized that she needed to chill for a bit.

Davy smiled at Nayoung happy to work with her. He waved her off before heading into the hotel where he freaked out when he got in his room.

“She’s even prettier in person…this is going to be hard. All I have to do is not fall for her, and fight my impulses. She’s a colleague. One who I want to cherish and love… no bad brain and heart do not fall for Nayoung. Besides I have a job to finish.”

Davy Jones leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head as he hit send on the email containing the final track for The Flying Dutchman’s new album. The song featuring Nayoung had been a labor of love, and he was eager to hear what his label rep, Mike, thought of it.

Minutes later, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. Davy picked it up, already knowing who it was.

“Davy, this is incredible!” Mike's voice boomed through the speaker, filled with enthusiasm. “The track with Nayoung is a hit. It’s got everything—emotion, energy, and that unique sound only you can bring.”

“Thanks, Mike. I’m glad you like it,” Davy replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Like it? I love it! We need to make this the touring single. It’s too good to pass up,” Mike continued, his excitement palpable. “When can you start the tour?”

Davy hesitated, glancing at the calendar on his desk. “I can’t leave South Korea just yet. I’m still helping Lightsum with their promotions. They’ve got a few big events coming up, and I promised to see them through.”

Mike sighed, but there was understanding in his tone. “Alright, I get it. But we’ll need to get you back on the road soon. This single deserves to be heard live.”

“I know, I know,” Davy reassured him. “I’ll wrap things up here as soon as I can.”

There was a brief pause before Mike asked, “So, Nayoung—she’s something, huh? What made you feature her?”

Davy chuckled. “She’s incredibly talented, for one. I’ve always admired her work, and when I came up with this project, she just seemed like the perfect fit. Her voice adds a whole new layer to the music.”

“And the Kraken side project? What’s the story there?” Mike inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

Davy leaned back, contemplating his answer. “Kraken is more personal, a way for me to explore different sounds and ideas. It’s about pushing boundaries, both musically and personally. Working with someone like Nayoung fits right into that vision.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up. This track is going to be huge,” Mike said, his confidence infectious.

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate the support. I’ll keep you posted on the timeline,” Davy promised.

The next day Nayoung picked up Davy they smiled when they saw each other and were chatting the whole way to Cube’s building. Davy thought it a bit weird at first that it was her and not all of Lightsum or a cube representative but his ease with Nayoung made it easier.

When they arrive at the studio Nayoung goes rejoins her group mates to formally greet Davy Jones.

“123 Hello we are Lightsum “The girls all smiled as Kraken waved back introducing himself. After that, the girls led him to the studio where he’d be working with them.

The studio was buzzing with energy as Lightsum gathered around the recording booth. Davy Jones, known to them as Kraken, was setting up equipment, his focus evident in the way he adjusted knobs and checked sound levels. The group was excited to collaborate with such a talented artist, and Nayoung was especially enthusiastic.

As Lightsum’s main producer played a rough cut of the track they were working on, Nayoung leaned in closer, nodding along to the beat. It was meant to be a remix of their hit song “Honey or Spice“. “This part sounds amazing,” she said about this space made on the song that was for his small space to do a quick sixteen bars, her eyes meeting Kraken’s with a bright smile.

“It is,” he replied, returning her smile. “Your vocals elevate it.”

Chowon, sitting nearby with her notebook, couldn’t help but notice the easy rapport between them. She observed how Nayoung and Kraken seemed to mirror each other’s movements, leaning in at the same time or laughing at shared jokes. It was subtle but unmistakable.

During a break, Nayoung approached Davy, offering him a bottle of water. “You’ve been working hard. Make sure you stay hydrated,” she said, her tone playful yet caring.

Davy chuckled, accepting the bottle. “Thanks, Nayoung. I appreciate it. I guess I got too dialed in.”

During the break Nayoung began humming a tune and the members of Lightsum noticed that Kraken was unconsciously making a beat to her little melody on the drum kit.

Chowon watched the exchange with interest, noticing how Nayoung lingered a moment longer than necessary, her attention fully on Kraken. It was clear to Chowon that there was an underlying chemistry between them. The other members noticed as well. They seemed to fire on all cylinders with each other.

As they resumed recording, Davy suggested a change in one of the verses. “What if we try it this way?” he proposed, demonstrating with his guitar.

Nayoung immediately picked up on the idea, adding her twist. “Or maybe like this?” she offered, her enthusiasm infectious.

Their collaboration flowed seamlessly, each suggestion building on the other’s ideas. Chowon marveled at how in sync they were, almost as if they were having a conversation through the music.

After the session, as the group gathered their things, Chowon sidled up to Nayoung, a teasing smile on her face. “You and Kraken seemed to have your own little world in there.”

Nayoung blushed, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. “Oh, come on. We’re just working well together,” she stammered, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

Chowon raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure, just working. But you two have a vibe.”

Nayoung’s smile widened despite her embarrassment, and she glanced away, trying to hide her flustered expression. “It’s not like that,” she insisted, though her voice lacked conviction.

Chowon laughed softly, giving her friend a gentle nudge. “Okay, whatever you say. But your face says otherwise.”

Nayoung opened her mouth to protest, but Chowon held up a hand. “Listen, Nayoung, he obviously likes you, too. Why not see where it goes? You never know what could happen.”

Nayoung hesitated, considering Chowon’s words. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” Chowon said with a reassuring smile. “You should go for it. Life’s too short to hold back on something that feels right.”

Nayoung nodded as the girls left to do their other schedules while she was left with Kraken. For her now there was only one worry, would he accept her being a mutant?

After the break, Kraken was working on more verses for the song and asked Nayoung what was the phrase "Our Time" Korean. She told Kraken and he added it to the verse. Eventually, he came up with something he was pleased with Sonically and lyrically. When he started rapping the members fluent in English and Koren noticed that his verse was doing something interesting. So the Korean parts contained idioms and sayings more associated with English and did the inverse with the English verbs creating this weird but kinda of funny split of lyrics.

After spending 5-6 hours working on the Honey or Spice remix. They finished up. The producer gave the go-ahead for Davy to take over. The rest of Lightsum left for their schedules as Nayoung was still "assigned to Davy Jones." Nayoung was surprised when his eyes dimmed and his face became serious again. It was weird and she wondered why he did this.

Davy Jones started playing drums until he found an intro he liked. Nayoung walked into the side of the studio he was in. Davy looked up to see Nayoung and asked if she wanted to do some vocals. Nayoung noticed that Davy Jones was trying to get around her, but she pinned him to the wall.

"Why are you so different when it's just us?" she asked Her eyes contained a fire Davy Jones didn't know what to do with

"I thought you liked me. So why are you always so distant when it's just us?" Davy Jones sighed realizing he was trapped.

"Simple I don't trust being alone with you...well not you personally but any female to be honest," Davy says which shocks Nayoung to her core.

"But why?"

"Because despite my best intentions every woman I have ever gotten close to only hurts me because they don't get me."

Nayoung paused as she tried to consider this. It would explain why out of all of the members of "The Flying Dutchman he was the only single one, despite being the most charismatic and "normal" one of the bunch. It also explained a few other things like never going for hugs when she opened her arms to greet him or his overall caginess around her.

"Okay I am going to do something I don't normally do, but I'll be right back," Nayoung said leaving Davy confused but he played along.

She went into the bathroom and changed into her X-men suit, before sneaking back into the studio where Davy Jones was.

She smiles then says, "Okay. I am a mutant and I want to try something. I want to enter your mind but I need you to relax."

Davy Jones (Whose parents and sisters are all telepaths) had a hard time relaxing about Nayoung's revelation, but his desire for intimacy overrode his defensiveness so he eased. Nayoung smiled before becoming engulfed in flames. Davy blinked thrice before freaking out. He tried booking it but Nayoung intercepted him. Despite her whole body being covered in Flames. When she touched Davy Jones her hands didn't burn him. She smiled brightly and said,

"Please let me in. I won't hurt you." Against his better judgment, he let Nayoung in.

Nayoung flew deep into Davy's mind she watched as the world faded away and was swallowed by an impossible expansive ocean. She watched as stars and other celestial bodies filled the skies. But something else was there with her. Nayoung ignored it looking for some form of guidance about this place but all she got was more of this following her until it caught her. When she felt this immense presence she turned around to see...Davy? It looked like him but it was different.

The entity spoke to her.

"Does anyone ever tell you you're hotter in person?" Davy said before laughing. Not understanding the joke Nayoung turned to him confused before Davy said, "Get it? Because you're covered in the fire? Or is this lava? I can't tell."

Nayoung smiled. This was the Davy she was familiar with. The smile he wore on interviews and the joviality he brought not only emotionally but physically. This Davy was goofy and fun.

"So Miss what do you want to see?" Kraken asked her.

"Well, what do you want to show me?

"Well, I'd love to show you my most positive memories but a lot of them are nerdy and really goofy."

Nayoung held up her hand and said, "I'd love to but I'd also like to see you how you see yourself."

Kraken's smile wavered a bit, but quickly returned, "Okay then fine."

Kraken guided Nayoung to the brightest star in this infinite ocean and guided her to it.

The room Davy Jones found himself in was stuffy and cold, as he waited for his first girlfriend to come through. Nayoung noticed he was covered in bruises.

"What happened?" she asked Kraken.

"Oh Football injuries," Kraken explained. Nayoung nodded a bit more at ease.

As he waited for his ride he noticed a bald woman approach him. he locked eyes with her in confusion.

"Oh, what a naughty boy out here all alone. Someone could hurt you."

Her accent said British which automatically put the young man on edge, as she approached. Her face held malice which frightened the younger Davy. Until she became too close. she touched his forehead and entered his mind. A vibrant seaside palace

"Ooh, you have one of the prettiest mind palaces I have ever seen." The bald woman said. Davy in his efforts tried to shake her off, but she was the strongest telepath he had encountered thus far. She tightened her grip on his mind. Massive tendril-like fingers weaved through them. As she got closer to his mind palace she sighed and said,

"Shame I have to break it." before tearing the palace apart and casting it into the ocean. she tore through Davy's memories suppressing the ones she deemed useless and enhancing the ones that would make him her perfect weapon. A lot of those memories included how worthless he would always be and how he would never amount to anything. These memories began to manifest as these massive chains.

Nayoung watched in Terror she knew this Telepath. it was Professor Charles Xavier's sister Cassandra Nova, and as the memories faded a defense began to mount itself against her.

. The voice was monotone and mechanical

"HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR YOU. HATE. HATE."

from the oceans arrived a titanic beast, that swam through Davy's mind, which Nayoung recognized as Kraken.

What startled Nayoung the most about this memory was how as it became corrupted and this almost machine-like coldness began to warp it, all she could sense from the memory was Hate, but also surprisingly Hope. when she came back to the "real world" she held Davy Jones close.

He smiled unguarded with her.

"So what now?" he asked.

As Nayoung delved deeper into Kraken’s mind, the vast ocean of his subconscious swirled with stars and shadows. She moved carefully, feeling the echoes of his past. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The water around her grew turbulent, and a chilling presence made itself known.

From the depths emerged a figure shrouded in darkness, with piercing eyes that seemed to cut through the very fabric of his memories. It was Cassandra Nova, the malevolent telepath who had tormented Kraken in his past.

Nayoung felt Kraken’s fear and tension ripple through the ocean. The water grew cold and constricted as if reacting to the memory of Cassandra’s control. She could sense the trauma Kraken had endured, his defenses crumbling under Cassandra’s relentless assault.

“Little Davy,” Cassandra’s voice echoed, dripping with malice. “Did you think you could hide from me in your mind?”

The memory of Davy, younger and more vulnerable, appeared beside Nayoung. He was struggling against invisible chains, his face a mix of defiance and fear. Nayoung could see the weight of Cassandra’s influence bearing down on him, a testament to the psychological scars she had left.

Cassandra approached, her presence overwhelming. “Your powers are nothing compared to mine,” she taunted. “I could twist your thoughts, make you see what isn’t there. And you’d be helpless to stop me.”

The memory shifted, showing Kraken isolated, trapped in a web of illusions crafted by Cassandra. Nayoung watched as Kraken fought to maintain his sense of self, his mental barriers barely holding against the onslaught. The only thing that barely could stop her all combined into Kraken even little Davy mounted an all-out attack on the interloper

Determined to help, Nayoung reached out to the Kraken. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her voice carrying strength and warmth. “I’m here with you.”

The presence of Nayoung seemed to bolster the mental apparation of Kraken. The waters began to calm, the chains weakening. Cassandra’s image flickered, her control slipping as Nayoung’s influence spread through the memory.

“Who are you?” Cassandra hissed, her figure dissipating under the combined willpower of Nayoung and Kraken. “This isn’t over!”

As the memory faded, Nayoung found herself back in the present, holding Kraken’s hand tightly. His eyes opened, meeting hers with gratitude and relief. Tears running down his eyes. Nayoung Kraken wasn't a side project it was what remained of him mentally. she smiled at him before stroking his hair as he collapsed in her arms. when he recovered and got up he stammered.

"Um Sorry you had to see that. I um hope it wasn't too much. I just um," as Kraken stammered for words Nayoung smiled then said,

"Well Kraken I can wipe your mind off this little exchange and we can resolve your issues the normal way. Or we can have some fun now that you are "okay" with me with Cube's money." Nayoung said while waving a card out.

"I don't like telepaths touching my psyche too much so let's have some fun," Kraken said. Nayoung smiled as they walked towards the exit. On the way out she realized Kraken said Telepaths plural.

"Wait You know multiple telepaths besides Cassandra and I?" Nayoung asked Kraken nodded, and replied

"Yes, my two sisters, Mom, and Dad,"

"You're a mutant like me?" Nayoung questioned incredolous." Kraken nodded and said.

"While I don't really flex my powers all that much I am very proud to be one. My Song Buy it Back was mutant slang where I'm from."

Nayoung's eyes went wide as she listened.

"That explains so much now Like the song Brotherhood, or the song Milita... no wonder I feel such a connection to you. Okay now that I know I have to ask the obligatory: Who do you side more with Xavier or Erik?" Nayoung asked.

Having been exposed to the question numerous times growing up Kraken picked his favorite response.

"Neither. their dead and have been dead for 15 years or so."

Nayoung rolled her eyes and then said. "Okay, then Mr. Smart Alek. What about Logan or Scott?"

Kraken smirked as he responded, "Oh Neither they're are both the worst. My choices are between a racist and a war criminal. Neither." Kraken said as he got in the car with Nayoung who pouted.

Nayoung turned to him with an annoyed smile. "How did you survive on Krakoa?"

Kraken shrugged as he responded, "I have never been."

Nayoung's brain broke upon hearing that, "What do you mean you have never been to Karkoa?"

Kraken shrugged before responding, "No Point."

"What do you mean no point? You are a proud mutant you need to go to the motherland." Nayoung challenged.

"My "Motherland" is Cali Missy," Kraken said which made Nayoung smile despite being teased. The two drove to a nearby Ramen shop

As they pulled up to the cozy ramen shop nestled on a bustling street corner, Nayoung parked the car and turned to Kraken with a playful smile.

“This place has the best ramen in town. You’re in for a treat!” she said, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Kraken grinned, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I trust your taste. Lead the way.”

As they stepped out of the car, Nayoung reached for Kraken’s hand, intertwining her fingers with his. He glanced down at their joined hands and then back at her, feeling a warmth spread through him.

The restaurant was warm and inviting, with the comforting aroma of simmering broth and freshly cooked noodles wafting through the air. They were seated at a small table by the window, offering a view of the lively street outside.

After placing their orders, Nayoung leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “So, you mentioned your family earlier. What’s it like having a family full of telepaths?”

Kraken chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “It’s… interesting, to say the least. Privacy is a bit of a challenge, but we’ve learned to respect each other’s boundaries. Once my powers kicked in and I was able to create mental barriers it was a lot easier. What about you? How did your family react to your abilities? Wait are you a first-generation mutant?”

Nayoung smiled softly. “ No, my dad was a flame user and my mom was an empath. Their powers combined when they had me. They were a bit surprised when I burst into flames in front of them but they were supportive. A bit surprised, but they always encouraged me to embrace who I am. My mom always says I’m destined for great things.”

Kraken squeezed her hand gently. “I’m not surprised. You’re pretty amazing, Nayoung.”

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks and looked down at their intertwined fingers. “You’re not so bad yourself, Kraken.”

They both laughed, the sound mingling with the soft chatter of other diners. Their ramen arrived, steaming and fragrant, and they released each other’s hands to pick up their chopsticks.

Between bites, Kraken asked, “Do you ever feel like you have to prove yourself because of your abilities?”

Nayoung nodded thoughtfully. “Sometimes. But I try to focus on what I can do, not what others expect of me. What about you? Do you feel pressure, especially with your family being mutants?”

Kraken shrugged. “A bit. But I’m learning to carve my own path. It helps to have people who understand.” He glanced at her, his expression softening.

Nayoung reached across the table, touching his hand lightly. “Well, I’m here if you ever need someone to talk to.”

He smiled, turning his hand to hold hers again. “I appreciate that.”

"So what are your powers?" Nayoung asked.

Kraken thought for a moment and made some gestures with his hands before giving up. He noticed Nayoung had some beef on her cheek and grabbed a napkin to wipe it off. Nayoung smiled at his cute gesture. She watched as the gears in his mind turned as he processed. It was something she had seen him do a couple of times now. Mostly when he's working on Music.

"So my powers are weird. I take the residual psionic energy that all mutants give off and use it that alter reality in a limited range that increases per mutant in the range. It also increases depending on the strength of the mutant as well.

Nayoung's eyes widened and she asked, "Well how much range do I give you."

"25 meters," Kraken answered

"So with me around I make you a god for 25 meters?" Nayoung asked.

Kraken smirked at her assumption, "Um yes and no. My powers are limited to a very specific range and while powerful are limited to my perception of reality."

"What do you mean?" Nayoung asked.

"I am a limited being. I can't know or think of everything." Kraken explained

Nayoung nodded thoughtfully "Okay, so your power is limited by your creativity and range."

Kraken nodded as he clarified "Yes. So if a telepath engages with my brain and I don't have my powers up they can do really bad things. Typically I know when one is near so that is less of an issue, but to use my powers I have let my Psionic barriers down leaving me super open to Telepaths."

"Okay So keep you protected from Psionics with my powers. Got it." Nayoung teased. Kraken chuckled and said

"Bold are you."

Nayoung smiled, "Yes I am. Besides you are my boy now whether you like it or not."

"Really in two days, you are claiming me?" Kraken asked confused

Nayoung nodded "Of course. You're my little angry heavy metal buddy."

Kraken was bewildered as he responded, "But Nayo I am taller than you by 14 inches."

"Yes, but you're heart's smaller so you're just my little guy." Nayoung teased.

Kraken laughed it off before wanting some clarity on Nayoung's powers.

"So how do your powers work?"

"Well, my powers work like so. My psionic flames cover me while I use them and increase my psionic powers of telepathy, pyrokinesis, and Telekinesis,"

Kraken nodded at Nayoung's explanation.

As they finished their meal, Nayoung looked at Kraken with a playful glint in her eyes. “So, what’s next on our adventure?”

Kraken returned her smile, feeling a sense of ease and excitement he hadn’t experienced in a while. “I guess we’ll have to see where the night takes us.”

"Karaoke?" Nayoung suggested.

"Sure" Kraken agreed. Nayoung paid for their meal and then took him to a nearby Karaoke Parlor, where they rented a room for a couple of hours. On the way in there was a claw Machine. In said Claw Machine was a rabbit keychain that Nayoung wanted. She raced to the Machine and made three attempts at it, but failed.

"I know there is supposed to be a trick to these, but why not use your powers to secure it?"

"Because that's cheating?" Nayoung replied stubbornly

"but these machines cheat. All the time."

"Well, I like beating cheaters by being better than them. Now are you going to help me or not?" Nayoung said defiantly.

Kraken rolled his eyes and let down his psionic barriers, as he put the coin in. Nayoung who was unaware watched as he upped his Luck percentage so high that the machine would give him the keychain when he was successful he gave her the keychain. Nayoung smiled and said,

"Thanks, big guy,"

Kraken smiled and said, "Oh now I am a big guy." Kraken teasese and Nayoung rolls her eyes. As they finally entered the room Nayoung hugged Kraken for the first time, well outside of a traumatic response from Kraken. She felt a cool warmth that was peaceful. It felt like a summer day at the beach. Kraken smirked confused.

"Um, what was that for?"

"You seemed like you'd be a good hugger and you are. I wonder how good of a kisser you are." Nayoung said absent minded. Kraken kindly ignored that as he searched for a song to play. He laughed when he saw his on the list but none from "The Flying Dutchman" Nayoung laughed with him saying,

"You know I didn't like "Buy it Back"." She said.

Kraken laughed and said, "Fair. I am often surprised it got so much love."

Nayoung held her hand up, "No I get why it did. It's got all the hallmarks of your art. Cheeky defiance in the face of similar-sounding music. It was a rallying war cry and killer instrumentation. My only wish it was more metal instead of a rap bop."

Kraken laughed and said, "Well then little miss Metalhead. Do you want to write a song together?"

Nayoung's eyes went wide and said, "Absolutely."

Kraken smiled as he picked hot and spicy. She laughed when he really tried to go for it on Nayoung's parts of the song, and smiled that he showed that he cared about not only her music but her art. after the song Nayoung smiled at Kraken.

"That was pretty good. What do you want to hear me sing?" Nayoung asked

"Oh that's easy Dreamcatcher, Odd eye."

Nayoung smiled, "you know they are how I found out about you." she said

Kraken's eyes widened before saying, "Wait they know about me?"

Nayoung laughed, "No but you were on their recommended video under Odd eye,"

Kraken laughed then said, "So I guess Odd Eye is our wedding song."

Nayoung laughed at the joke with a hearty smile. After singing Odd eye to a wildly impressed Kraken a competition ensued between them of who could sing better. No one really won this competition but they did impress each other with their vocal range and catalogue of music knowledge. After that Nayoung dropped off Kraken back at his hotel.

"I am glad that you're my "babysitter". Despite my earlier reservations," Kraken said.

Nayoung turned to him surprised, "What do you mean?"

"Um well, You have been stuck with me and doing whatever I want instead of you being able to be with your group. At first, I thought this was a manipulation attempt but honestly, this time with you has been some of the most fun I have had making music. Also one of my most healing times as well."

Nayoung's heart swelled. At that moment, she realized how much she had grown to like Kraken and how well they clicked, but also what surprised her was how smart he was to pick up on what Cube was doing."

"Why did you accept the offer?" Nayoung asked, she looked at Kraken who smiled at her, and then she added, "Your interviews make you seem like the one who embraces the rockstar identity more so than the other members of "The Flying Dutchman but spending all this time with you, and seeing how thoughtful you are. This seems like you would hate the fakeness of all of this. So I have to ask Why?"

Kraken smiled, "Obligation, I see all of this, and now that Cube is throwing y'all away. So why not see if I can help out at all." he explained

Nayoung looked at him with big happy eyes before grabbing him tight. Despite his awkward return she said, "Thank you for not giving up on us." Kraken pat Nayoung's back before leaving. while he walked out he waved back to her. Nayoung smiled and waved back until she lost visibility of him before driving back to her dorm.

Nayoung entered the dormitory, her cheeks slightly flushed from the day’s excitement. As she closed the door behind her, the familiar sounds of laughter and music filled the air. The other members of LIGHTSUM were scattered around the living room, lounging on the sofas and floor.

Juhyeon was the first to notice her arrival. She looked up from her phone and grinned widely. “Look who finally decided to come home!”

The others immediately perked up, turning their attention to Nayoung with mischievous smiles.

“Someone had a busy day,” Sangah teased, wiggling her eyebrows. “Was it fun?”

Nayoung rolled her eyes, trying to play it cool. “It was just ramen and some music stuff,” she replied, but the slight smile on her face betrayed her.

Chowon leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Oh, sure, just ramen. And who was the lucky guy you had ramen with?”

“Yeah, spill!” added Yujeong, clapping her hands excitedly. “We need all the juicy details.”

Nayoung sighed, knowing she couldn’t escape their playful interrogation. “Fine, fine. I was with Davy—Kraken, from The Flying Dutchman.”

There was a collective gasp of delight and surprise, and the teasing began in earnest.

“Kraken? The heavy metal guy?” Hina exclaimed, eyes wide. “Isn’t he super mysterious and cool?”

Jian joined in, nudging Nayoung’s arm. “I bet he’s got that brooding musician vibe. Did he sing you a love song?”

The room erupted in laughter, and Nayoung couldn’t help but laugh along with them. “He’s actually really sweet and funny,” she admitted, warmth in her voice. “We just talked and had a good time.”

“Talked, huh?” Juhyeon teased, nudging her playfully. “Holding hands, maybe?”

Nayoung’s blush deepened, and she covered her face with her hands. “Okay, maybe a little,” she mumbled, eliciting more squeals from her friends.

“Well, it sounds like you had a great time,” Sangah said, smiling warmly. “We’re happy for you, Nayoung.”

Nayoung looked around at her friends, grateful for their support and camaraderie. “Thanks, everyone. It was nice.”

“Just promise us one thing,” Chowon said, holding up a finger. “You’ll invite us to your wedding!”

The room filled with laughter again, and Nayoung shook her head, amused by their antics. “I’ll think about it,” she joked, knowing she wouldn’t hear the end of it any time soon.

The rest of the week was a blur of discussions; logistics, royalties, and promotion cycles. This led to Kraken appearing on quite a few shows with Lightsum.

In between one of those shows and another Chowon "confronts" Kraken over his time spent with Nayoung.

Backstage at the bustling music show venue, the air was filled with the sounds of instruments tuning and crew members rushing to set up for the next performance. Kraken leaned against a wall, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene, enjoying the brief lull between shows. As he took a sip of water, he noticed Chowon making her way towards him with a determined look on her face.

“Hey, Kraken,” she greeted, stopping in front of him. Her expression was friendly but serious, the kind of look that told him this wasn’t just a casual chat.

“Hey, Chowon,” he replied, curious about the purpose of her visit. “What’s up?”

She crossed her arms and gave him a scrutinizing look. “I wanted to talk to you about Nayoung.”

Kraken raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What about her?”

Chowon’s demeanor softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. “You two have been spending a lot of time together, and I just wanted to make sure you know how important she is to all of us. She’s like a sister to me.”

He nodded, understanding the underlying message. “I get it. Nayoung’s great, and I really enjoy being with her.”

“Good,” Chowon said, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Because if you ever hurt her, I’ll have to kick your butt.”

Kraken chuckled, appreciating her protectiveness. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. But seriously, I have no intention of hurting her. She’s… special.”

Chowon’s expression softened further, and she smiled. “I can see that. She talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” Kraken asked a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” Chowon confirmed, leaning against the wall next to him. “She’s been happier lately, more relaxed. That’s a good thing.”

Kraken felt a warmth in his chest at her words. “I’m glad to hear that. She makes me feel pretty happy too.”

Chowon nodded, satisfied with his response. “Just remember, she has all of us looking out for her.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kraken promised, meeting her gaze with sincerity.

“Great,” Chowon said, her tone lightening. “Now, I think it’s almost showtime. Ready to rock the stage?”

Kraken grinned, feeling the energy of the impending performance. “Always.”

They killed all the performances and had runaway hits. Lightsum was on track to be a household name. To Celebrate this massive momentum shift the group plus Kraken had a little party on a rooftop bar.

The evening was filled with laughter and chatter as Kraken sat with the members of LIGHTSUM at a cozy rooftop bar, enjoying the view of the city lights twinkling below. The atmosphere was relaxed, and Kraken felt a sense of camaraderie and warmth among the group. It was his last night in Korea, and he was determined to make the most of it.

As Sangah told a funny story that had everyone in stitches, Kraken's phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the screen and saw Mike's name flashing. Excusing himself from the table, he stepped away from the noise to answer the call.

“Hey, Mike!” Kraken greeted, holding the phone to his ear.

“Kraken, my man!” Mike's voice boomed with excitement. “You’re not gonna believe the buzz that’s happening over here. Your performances have been a massive hit! Everyone’s talking about you!”

Kraken smiled, pleased to hear the positive feedback. “That’s great to hear! I’m glad people are enjoying it.”

“More than enjoying it—they’re loving it!” Mike continued enthusiastically. “When you get back, we need to capitalize on this hype. I’m thinking we can push for some big promotions. Maybe even a solo tour or a collaboration with some big names.”

Kraken’s smile faded slightly as he caught the emphasis on solo work. “Uh, Mike, you keep mentioning promoting me as Kraken. What about The Flying Dutchman?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Mike responded, his tone slightly less enthusiastic. “Well, of course, there’s The Flying Dutchman, but I’m talking about opportunities for you as an individual artist. You’ve got this incredible momentum right now.”

Kraken took a deep breath, feeling the need to be firm. “I appreciate the excitement, Mike, but The Flying Dutchman is my project with the rest of the band. We’ve built this together, and I’m not interested in sidelining them. If we’re promoting, it’s gotta be all of us.”

Mike hesitated, then sighed, understanding Kraken's stance. “I get it, I do. But think about how much bigger you could be if you pursued this solo angle.”

“I’m already big enough with the band,” Kraken said with a slight chuckle, trying to keep the conversation light. “And that’s where I’m happiest—creating with them. We’re a team.”

There was a pause, and then Mike’s tone softened. “Alright, I hear you. We’ll focus on promoting The Flying Dutchman. Just know the offer’s there if you ever change your mind.”

“Thanks, Mike. I appreciate it,” Kraken replied, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.

As he hung up and returned to the table, the LIGHTSUM members greeted him with smiles and curiosity.

“Everything okay?” Chowon asked, noticing the thoughtful look on his face.

Kraken nodded, taking his seat again. “Yeah, just some talk about the future. But right now, I’m here with you guys, and that’s all that matters.”

Chowon laughs and then says. "Well if that's the case there is someone you need to talk to." before pointing at a partying Nayoung. Kraken smiles. Nayoung and he had both been avoiding the "So what happens next" talk because they knew that. It was going to hurt no matter what happened, but it was now or never.

Nayoung smiled when she saw Kraken approached.

"Hey Nayoung can we talk?" he said.

Nayoung sighed, she noticed he wasn't using her cute nickname Nayo which meant this was serious. She nods and the two find a quiet end of the bar to chat.

"So what happens next," Kraken asks.

Nayoung thought about his words... she knew they were about to go heavy into tours and traveling, which meant strain on their friendship.

"Well the way I see it we can put our friendship on pause, or you can move out to Korea, and we see where the rest of this takes us."

"I am not moving out here, but my powers do grant me limited teleportation."

"Wait really?"

"Kinda. Typically I need an anchor point. Usually, that's an omega level or higher mutant, but I think I know a girl."

Nayoung pouted not realizing who he was referring to. She stood up from the seat flustered, "Who is she, and how did you meet her out here?" she asked. Kraken furrowed his brow in confusion before pointing to Nayoung. Nayoung finally made the connection and laughed heartily.

Nayoung smiled and then said, "Okay well that changes things because if I knew you'd always be a quick teleport away we could have spent more time together."

Kraken nodded then asked for confirmation, "Okay so that's the plan?"

Nayoung nodded then replied, "Yes I have custody of you on the weekends."

"That's an interesting way to put it." Kraken looked at her funny while he responded

Nayoung raised a defiant eyebrow, and asked "Am I wrong?"

"No Nayo, it's just funny," Kraken replied

"Good now dance with me," she said as her favorite song came on. The two danced all night as their hearts poured themselves out on the dancefloor. Nayoung and Kraken felt at peace in each other's arms, and just like that. A spark ignited between the two "Friends" as both felt their hearts yearn for something more.

[rensukei]

↻ ...something so innocent

in which you make one right move, and you're suddenly all they want. ft. tsukishima kei & iwaizumi hajime

cw use of feminine clothing and pet names but never directly uses she/her prns, heavily suggestive. not proofread. wc: 1.2k

a/n ik this topic is vague but i LOVE the song i got the idea from. lay me down in my grave in 60 years and play this song. watch me come back to life from this mf beat. also apologies for the lack of paragraph indentation my computer just didn't like the idea of keeping those spaces ig

of all people to test, tsukishima was not one of them; especially on the night that the sendai volleyball team was hosting a formal.

you in your pretty little dress, seated right next to the refined blonde—short his glasses this evening, instead swapped out for contacts and an all black suit—, were so perfect, keeping a watchful eye on your posture and tone of voice while in the presence of such opulent volleyball figures.

you turn to meet your painstakingly handsome fiancé, cursing him for how good he looks clad in black. "how's the wine, kei?" you ask, well aware of the answer.

he sets his glass down, taking extra care to not clang it against the table. "i'm trying my hardest to not wince at the taste of it." he lowly says with the hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "i'm sure you aren't doing to well with it either though, princess. last time you had wine you were crying on the bathroom floor with my shirt because you thought you 'lost me.'"

"oh please, that was one time! i can handle a little red wine... and don't try to act like i don't notice you clenching the fabric of my dress with every sip you take, hypocrite." you reach ahead of you, grabbing a full glass of water. "have some."

"as if this will help," he takes a sip, "it feels like i've been served straight rubbing alcohol."

you giggle at his quip, "oop," you gently place your hand on the edge of the glass, "don't spill, kei." suddenly speaking just loud enough to where he could hear your faint whisper, you were too focused on the task at hand to realize the intimacy of your actions, "we don't need to be crying on the floor with my shirt now, do we?"

its by the grace of god that he didn't throw that very glass across the room and run out the door with you in his hand. something in the tone of your voice—or perhaps just the hushed, innocent nature of which it came across—made him flush a furious claret, similar to the repulsive beverage that may or may not have contributed to the slow heat rising to his cheeks.

after quickly recovering from the affect your words had on him, he sets the water down on the table as his hand slides underneath the tablecloth and onto your leg. his head dips down, lips dangerously close to your ear as his head is now hidden from the rest of the guests.

"oh, but we could be, princess," he softly mutters, "wouldn't that be fun? 'could put on a show for everyone—you'd like that now, wouldn't you angel?"

and just as quickly as it happened, it ended just as fast. his stature returned to his normal posture as if nothing happened; as if the most sinful words didn't fall past his lips. one thing stayed, though; his hand kept it's place on you underneath that table for the rest of the night.

iwaizumi had just gotten home after a long day at practice, walking into your shared home with a huff as he sets his bags down. moving into the kitchen following the faint smell of cooking, he finds you above the stove with shorts and a tank top on, tied together with a pretty little apron hugging your figure.

"ah, welcome home, haji!!" you drop the utensils from your hand and run up to welcome him with a tight embrace.

he receives your affection as a small grunt slips past his lips at the impact. "well hello, angel," he revels in the way you fit against him, then quickly remembers that he's a sweaty volleyball trainer who hasn't showered yet. "ah, hold on, let me go shower-"

"let me run it for you," slipping out from his arms, you flip the stove off and move the empty pan to the sink, "i haven't actually started cooking yet so it can wait."

moving across the kitchen to where you keep your aprons, your back faces the worn out iwaizumi as he watches your hands slip behind you to undo the bow that was so neatly tied. but, uh oh, it seems as though it's accidentally gotten all knotted up-

"oh gosh.. haji, can you come help me with this? i think- i think it's stuck.."

its a mystery as to why something so innocent could possibly effect him this way. ...helping you untie the knot on your apron? this does not prompt him bending you over the counter in any instance. ever.

he tries his damned hardest to swat the indecent thoughts bubbling up in his mind away as he makes his way over to your struggling frame. it was so hard not to just fold you over right then and there; your hands behind your back, your hair up and out of the way... it was all too perfect.

he couldn't help the way his hands instinctively slid beneath the rough fabric of the apron, feeling the supple top under his calloused fingers.

"you know, doll, i had such a long day," he says lowly as his hands find their way around your body, "would you mind... helping me out a little?"

the unexpected movement and actions of your lover catch you by surprise, a sudden warmth beginning to pool. "oh, baby- i haven't even started dinner y-"

"aw, but it's okay, pretty. i'm not too hungry, anyways," he turns you around to meet his gaze, a look you know all too well at this point in your relationship. your head lifts as you reach up and graze his lustful lips with yours in a feverish kiss as he undoes the problematic knot at the small of your back, an action he's a bit too familiar with as his skillful hands waste no time.

needless to say, dinner was neglected and the shower was (fortunately) postponed.

ps. i was going to do three-four charas but i got bored and impatient ;)

©𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 :: tpwk!!

[shegatsby]

Ngl I've been thinking about this for awhile, imagine Hannibal Lecter with a Burlesque dancer like in the movie from 2010 with Cher and Christina Aguilera, reader as Ali/Christina would be really cool

A/N; Hi! Thank you for this request, i love that movie so much i sometimes listen to its songs. I had fun writing this. Happy Ramadan!

Words; 1.413K

Warnings; None.

‘’Hey! Y/N!’’ you heard a voice from the director of the show, ‘’It’s your turn now!’’ you looked at your reflection on the mirror for the last time, hair done, nails done, a nice lingerie that had rime stones on it… you were young and sexy and that was enough for your confidence. You’re good at climbing into a huge champagne glass which is filled with water and soup and big sponges and do your number. Years ago when you were a child you grew up watching burlesque dancer and the numbers they did on stage and climbing into a tall glass always entertained you, it was a classic. You were the only one who could do it right in your group, the stage was set, you had two dancers either side of the glass, dancing to the rhythm. When you walked to the stage the spot light found you and your audience started screaming for you, getting good reviews was a part of your every night. You loved the attention, slowly getting rid of your gloves you noticed someone. You knew your regular customers and this man was on the same spot, which was the VIP section, alone, drinking his champagne and admiring you from afar. He never flinched ever and you could tell that he liked dressing up and keeping everything pristine. Most of your regulars loved to send you gifts, mostly flowers, perfumes etc. However, this one never sent you anything, you started to get curious about him and asked your crew, they only knew that he was a psychiatrist and that’s it.

You moved on the stage like delicate swan, so elegant and all of the eyes were on you. As you danced to the rhythm and slowly undressed you felt his burning gaze, you knew that after the show you were going to get lots of presents except from him.

He never made a move. Most of the regular spectators loved to send you drinks and presents after the show but this particular gentleman only occupied his seat at the VIP section every week, drank his champagne, ate his luxurious dish and watched you from afar. ,

Human mind is tricky, the brain loves to focus on that one person who doesn’t have his focus on us.

Nonetheless you were intrigued by him.

Thanks to the help of the dancers on the stage you climbed into the champagne glass, your rime stoned lingerie shining under the spot light. The water was cold just how you liked it. Moving around in the glass, splashing water has always made your audience smile and left them satisfied. Maybe because of the fact that your lingerie was soaked and your damp body shimmered under the lights…

When you were done you were escorted back, it felt so cold so you wore your pink robe, people you work with congratulated you, and you kindly smiled. Before you could open your dressing room’s door and throw yourself on your pink fluffy couch your boss, an old lady with long silver hair and kind blue eyes stopped you, ‘’A gentleman is inside, he has an offer for you.’’ You were puzzled. ‘’Thank you for the heads up.’’ Before you walked in you checked your hair and make-up, and then you walked in.

He was sitting on the pink couch, when you entered and as soon as he saw you he bolted to his feat. ‘’Miss Y/L/N.’’ he addressed you and you smiled. He had a dark grey 3 piece suit which fit him perfectly, he looked odd in this room of pink. He extended his large hand and continued, ‘’It is a pleasure finally meeting you in person.’’ You held his hand and you felt a sudden rush to your  stomach. Why did he have such an impact on you? You noticed the way he emphasized the word ‘’finally’’ he was also aware of you noticing him for weeks. ‘’Please.’’ You gestured him to sit back, you sat across him. The sudden realization hit you, you had your soaking wet lingerie underneath your pink robe. His face didn’t give any clues whatsoever. ‘’Allow me to introduce myself, I am Doctor Hannibal Lecter.’’ You nodded gently, legs crossed. Melodies from the stage floating into the room, in that brief silence you wondered why did your boss allow him inside? It usually never happens.

He must have persuaded the old lady with something… most likely money.

‘’Y/N Y/L/N. At your service.’’ You replied with a soldier tone to break the ice and caught him smirking a bit. His maroon eyes looked into your eyes directly, you felt shiver running down your spine, he was intense. His gaze found the pile of presents resting on the table at the corner of the room, was that annoyance written on his sharp face?

‘’May I ask the reason why you are here Doctor Lecter?’’ you attracted his gaze again, you could feel your palms getting sweaty, his presence made you nervous and you didn’t even know this person.

‘’I would love to hire your service for one of my dinner parties.’’ He bluntly said, he seemed like a guys who would go and get something, a true dominant man. Also the way he used ‘’your service’’ didn’t go unnoticed, he was respectful. His hand went inside his jacket’s pocket to pull out a check book, he wrote something and ripped the page, you were excited when he handed it to you.

When you saw the price you were shocked.

‘’But this is too much-‘’ you said with wide eyes, holding the check as if it is something fragile, ‘’Burlesque is an art and I’m never shy spending money on art.’’ He replied, you could sense the strong undertones. ‘’When is the party?’’

You accepted his offer, this was the first time you went to do a number to someone’s home. He mentioned that his home was enough to bring your essentials. For a week you practiced and practiced. You felt like you needed to make him proud, even though he paid you and this was your job you just wanted to be perfect at it and have a good time.

He didn’t lie, his home was like a castle, more than enough for your show. You were ready and also small group of your dancers were ready too, everything was set.

Dancing so close to the audience didn’t make you nervous at all, you felt alive, the music felt like it was running through your veins, you were one with it. You could feel the public’s eyes were on you in an awe of your art, the energy was immaculate. You could also see the host of the party, Doctor Lecter, holding his drink in one hand, the other in his pocket, his maroon gaze focused on you and only you. Almost predatory.

The champagne glass act made the audience sigh in excitement, it seemed like this was the first time they experience this and it feed your soul.

After the show you went upstairs to change because Doctor Lecter wanted to introduce you to his guests. You were touching on your make up when someone knocked on your door.

‘’Come in.’’

It was Lecter himself. ‘’You are a vision.’’ He said leaning on the door, you smiled. ‘’I have a gift for you.’’ He walked towards you, ‘’You didn’t have to Doctor Lecter.’’ You said when he opened the velvet box he was holding, a golden necklace was in that box, 24 karat you assumed. ‘’Please,’’ he said, ‘’Hannibal.’’

‘’Hannibal you already paid more than the actual price and this…’’ you were blushing, ‘’I’ve wanted to give you this for so long,’’ he confessed, ‘’but I was waiting for the right time.’’ You watched him place the necklace on you through the mirror, both of his hands found their place on your shoulders, he knelt and he planted a soft kiss on your cheek, he turned to the mirror to see your face and lock eyes.

‘’Looks good on you.’’ He said, you touched the necklace, ‘’Thank you, you are so generous.’’ His aura was heavy, his manly cologne filled your nostrils. You were intoxicated, it was wrong, he was your employer. ‘’I hope we will be more close from this night on.’’

You could feel your heart racing, was this a some kind of proposal? Only time would tell. Hand in hand you left the room to mingle.

[drama-glob]

SPOILERS FOR "APOLOGY TOUR!!!"

Oh this episode hurt, especially the ending. ;_; ;_; ;_;

I figured Stolas and Blitz wouldn't be back to normal or even amicable and that Blitz would need to learn about how his past actions when it comes to relationships have hurt people, but it's just so sad to watch the consequences some to fruition. ;_; Stolas holding onto his anger and hurt from what Blitz yelled at him as well as likely still blaming himself for the arrangement is justifiable since it's barely been any time since "The Full Moon," but him still not taking Blitz point of view on the matter and realizing where he messed up too didn't aid in their progress towards coming back together; Blitz playing up that he wants to just keep things sexual between him and Stolas while mocking relationships and refusing to admit that he did any wrongdoing only exacerbated the matter. :/ I didn't expect the Striker secret to come out and I don't blame Stolas for being upset about that. :/ It's too bad Blitz ruined his apology with a f*ck you and taking his lack of apologizing as a challenge rather than an actual call to change, but I did love the little mentioning of Fizz. ;)

The apology tour Blitz did was hilarious and I love that he actually was thinking about texting Stolas an apology, but of course, he didn't since it's the one he genuinely feels bad about; the surprise cameo of Martha and Mrs. Mayberry was probably the most shocking and hilarious! XD At the party, it was crazy that Blitz had been with and hurt that many people (and that's just the ones that attended O_O), and while I'm glad Stolas got out of the palace and seemed to be enjoy Verosika's company for the most part, seeing him continually drink was heartbreaking, especially because we know he's done it before. ;_;

"All 2 U" was an amazing song with Stolas just laying out all his feelings and pain with him even seeing how his past actions were wrong/contributed to Blitz not reciprocating his feelings. It was also practically unbelievable to see just how much Blitz actually took Stolas's words to heart and legit felt terrible. I love that Blitz showed concern too for Stolas being drunk (likely thinking about Verosika getting to that point and seeing the parallels) as well as him admitting his insecurity about no one being capable of loving him; Stolas then drunkenly pointing out that them throwing a party about how much they hate him every year showed they did care enough about him at one time was funny and true. XD I definitely teared up at Stolas's confession of just being wanting to be wanted and that he didn't even need the grand show he laid out to Blitz initially; the fact that Blitz did attempt to offer comfort to Stolas before he snapped back up made me go awww so hard. ;_; ;_; ;_;

Even though Verosika had such vitriol for most of the night, the fact that she uses the parties to bring those Blitz hurt some comfort that they aren't alone and can even find someone new from those he rejected is in a way comforting; it's sad though that she got dumped for just saying she loved Blitz. ;_; I'm glad Blitz admitted he has been terrible to people and that he wants to change, which definitely made it surprising that the line from the trailer was said to Verosika and not Stolas, but the impact was still great. :)

My heart broke at that incubus asking Stolas to dance because it gave me a bad feeling and sure enough, him and Stolas kissing hurt so much even though I know Blitz and Stolas aren't together anymore right now and this is part of the consequences for Blitz's actions. Him not ruining Stolas's fun hurt as well as at the same time showed he wasn't being selfish, so progress and pain. ;_; ;_; ;_; Hopefully it'll just be a one-night stand, but who knows since Stolas does seem to still want Blitz, but having a break may help both of them work on themselves. ;_; ;_; ;_; Well, if the shorts don't add anymore to the main story, here's me looking forward to "Ghostf*ckers" in October to find out how these two will handling things/change hopefully for the better next time. <3

[jolapeno]

trouble keepin' my eyes off you

john 'soap' mactavish x f!reader wc: 4k | warnings: angst, jealous!soap, pining summary: soap has been aware of it for longer than he’d like to admit. each time his eyes land on your mid-smile, each sound of your laughter—all he thinks is, I want this, I want it all with you.  an: prequel to yours to keep and a thousand — and dedicated to @guyfieriii who i adore, and dedicate all my soap too. teehee.

soap masterlist

It’s uncomfortable, the heat. It clings, wraps and drapes over everything, smothering any breeze or fresh air.

The sweat builds on his brow, dripping down the back of his neck, leaving puddles at the base of his spine. Worst of all, beads drop from his hairline, sliding down his cheeks, dropping from his jawline as he runs his hand through his hair.

His hair has grown—the shorter sides having gained some length, beginning to conceal his very deliberate mohawk he had going. Which is another string to the bow of annoyance. It tells the tale of how long they've all been here, sweating, not sleeping, watching and waiting.

But the bow, the real thing which has been grating him is that you’re on the other side of a slightly ajar door, sparring—and it isn’t with him. 

Soap has been trying not to listen. 

But, they’re loud—you are loud. 

Even his attempts of burying it have been futile. He's attempted to recall songs from home. Ones where there’s a scotch or beer in hand, swishing from side to side as his voice cracks as he screams the words—arms around a friend or two. The words which he knows are embedded into his soul—into the very fibre of his being—and yet, you’re making it hard for him to finish a verse, never mind a song. 

He’s tried to focus on the quieter noises. The ones he wouldn't usually pay any fucking attention to—like Gaz tapping the keys of the laptop in the kitchen and the hot breeze trying to brush through the open window. The background noise, never loud enough to cause any impact—but he needs them to. He clings to hope that they will. He practically claws out for them, grabbing them with metaphorical hands—anything to drive the much louder noises away. 

The ones coming from the door he’s forbidden from entering all because of stern words from even sterner eyes behind a balaclava. 

On some level, he understands. 

The whole place is small. Privacy is not something any of you are granted. But, he knows Ghost is trying to provide that for you in this case. Because you, little Squid, rarely ever ask for help—especially from him. 

Gaz, yes. Price, maybe. Even him, occasionally. 

Ghost—never.

But, he’s softened. He has jokes with you, purposefully having chosen to spend time with you on watch. Something rare, and very out of character for a man who initially didn't even show any of them his bloody face.

Soap knows you've done it again. Seeped under his layers, like you did with all of them, weaving your way, making it hard not to instantly take a shine to you.

He doesn't blame Ghost, he understands why. He can see that time was taken making you, carving each element of your personality, creating someone that is both good, clever and funny. You're strong-willed, giving-a-shit attitude is most likely the reason Ghost is helping you—training with you, offering guidance and support.

Handing you fucking praise.

Because he too has caught on to what they’ve all seen. He’s taken notice of how fucking splendid you are, how you’re capable and fucking gorgeous all rolled into one. 

That’s it, Squidlet. Use your—perfect, that’s it, you got it. Atta girl. 

He’s sure he’ll need bleach to burn Ghost’s words from his brain. 

Even if it’s his fault—because he knows he shouldn’t be listening. 

Having created his own personal torture chamber that he’s taken the time to design, construct, and build. Because there wasn’t a table and chairs here before—he moved them here. Choosing this spot so he could be close, just in case. Of what? He's not sure. But he needs to be here, something within him compelling him to be.

Under his jealousy, he doesn’t blame you, and he doesn’t blame Lt either. He knows the two of you can hardly be expected to spar outside, where every pair of eyes could be the enemy. Out there, the air isn't just thick with heat, but tension too.

Apprehension simmers as they come closer and closer to completing the very thing they are here for. 

So, he's sat outside the room. Pretending to be interested in the latest report. Not wanting to move. Twisting and turning his emotions like playing cards, wondering why didn’t you ask him? 

He bristles, chewing the inside of his mouth, breathing heavy, hating it—hating it all. His cheeks burning, coated in sweat as he stares at the words on the page, unsure why none of them are soaking in.

Why wouldn't you choose your lieutenant? That's the thought that gnaws, that sinks its pointy teeth into him. And it makes his bones ache. 

Because he's so close, and yet so far. He almost has you, but not entirely. And it pecks at him, weaves into his insecurities, his need to prove himself—so much so he can’t rid the image of his lieutenant looming his big fucking frame over you. You under him, eyes staring up, lips parted, shredding your clothing for the man who rarely shows his face—

Your groan punches the air. 

A sound he knows is from you being knocked on your arse, but it makes his fingers turn white. The sound so painted with frustration, and tiredness. He can tell—christ, he can even imagine the look on your face that accompanies it. Yet his brain twists it, morphs it, transforms it into something so ugly it almost breaks his heart.

It makes him want to claw at his brain, scratch out the images the tortured parts of himself keeps creating.

Because he knows you’re both sparring, that Lt is likely knocking you down, over and over again—not knowing that you’re stubborn, not knowing he should stop, that you’re running on nothing. 

He’s your lieutenant, yes, but he doesn’t know you. Doesn’t know that you push yourself until you snap and shatter, leaving fragments of yourself in your hands. Pieces he’s tried to help guide back into place when he’s found you, lost and broken in such a way he’s not sure how to glue you back.

But, you didn’t choose him. 

You chose Ghost. 

Asked, practically pleaded with him. 

So, he had to listen—even if he really fucking didn’t want to. He had to take the few sightings of you through the cracked door—the proof that you’re not on the floor, broken, breathing hard with sweat blending with tears. 

Which means he also sees your body sheened with sweat, hair sticking to your face, neck and shoulders, and your tiny, tight shorts. It means he's seeing you looking ethereal, almost too good for this goddamn place.

And it nips at him—fueling his jealousy. It peels at his skin that Ghost is seeing you like this without a filter, without anything getting in the way.

All of it whisking against the vexation of the heat, the fear of failure and the growing tiredness. It makes his knuckles almost crack, his skin almost translucent as his wrists ache from the way he continually clenches his fist. 

He’s down bad. He knows that. 

Soap has been aware of it for longer than he’d like to admit. Each time his eyes land on your mid-smile, each sound of your laughter—all he thinks is, I want this, I want it all with you. 

Not that he says those words. He just thinks them. Lets them swirl around his godforsaken mind until they try to drag him under. 

Sometimes, he can’t even think because of it. The depths of his own thoughts like water, drowning him from the inside, made so much worse by the simple fact—he’s not the one pinning you to the floorboards. That he has barely seen you, spoken to you, been around you since they all landed here.

But Ghost has. His lieutenant has. The same Lt who is funny, witty, and even has his own nickname for you. The one who has height even on him, who is broader, and who your eyes land on immediately when briefs are given out. 

Not his. 

Each time he almost wants to exit the room, his teeth cutting the inside of his cheeks. Instead, he sits and silently stews. Bubbling away like a broth his mum used to make—hoping, waiting to get back to base where things feel easier.

And then, your squeal pinches the air, Soap unaware he's even standing until he blinks.

Then he hears the unmistakable gruff, Manchester twang of “Y’alright, Squidie?”

His heart pounds, attempting to crack his ribs and fly out of his chest. More so as each millisecond ticks on, as they add up into seconds and your voice hasn’t cut through the air—

“Not broken. Winded. But—“ 

You cough. Heavy. Chesty. 

Soap’s mind fighting, urging him to push the door open more and visibly check you over himself. But, he hears movements, feet—boots. 

“And. Stop callin’ me, Squidie.”

“Prefer Squidlet?"

"Fuck no."

"Get up.” 

“Alright, alright,” you hiss, and the floorboard creaks again as you do. “Anyone tell you that you're the worst sometimes, Ghostling.”

Each night, he hopes the air will be easier to swallow. But, each night he wishes, it brings a new fresh hell he feels ill-prepared for.

Tonight, it’s sticky—the air clogged with thick, stubborn heat. There’s moisture, but it’s wrong. It smothers, makes his clothes chafe against his muscles. 

All of it is made worse by you being difficult. You're kind, warm-hearted, and beautiful—but fucking difficult too. Especially on low sleep. Especially when you're woven so tightly, you're going to snap.

He’s heard Price order you to get some fuckin’ sleep—your back against the dingy wall, his palm flat against the wall, eyes close to yours. Soap watched as you lifted your chin defiantly, muttering back, I’ll sleep when you do, Captain. 

Anyone else, he suspects they’d have their neck wrung. Sharing a look with Ghost—one he wasn’t able to translate—as you spit that you'll do the next watch, climbing the stone staircase and the ladder at the top before anyone can argue.  

It reminds him of months ago, when you’d driven yourself to near exhaustion then. Your stubborn, difficultness being the backbone for you not to sleep, something always needing to be done—as if you’re the sole person who can stop all of this and put the world to rights. 

You’ve always taken on so much.

The fire in your chest is both a blessing and a curse. He’s heard Price chew you out for the same reason. You try to do it all, not because you don’t rely on them or because you don’t trust them, but because:

“I care about you, all of you.” 

Soap had been lingering, hanging outside the door of Price’s office when he heard his response. 

“What makes you think you’re alone in that, hmm? You’re one of us, Squid. So, be one of us.” 

When you’d emerged—tail between your legs—it didn’t take a genius to see you’d taken it hard. Not the berating, but the statement; the fact you fit in, that you were cared for.

And, even then you’d tried to shift the emotions dancing in your eyes from him. The mask not slipping down quickly enough, and the smile was not being presented fast. 

“Y’alright?”

He always wondered if you’d have lied if he’d found you one minute later. If you’d have done so because you’d have known he hadn’t seen you undone, exposed—walls at your feet. 

“No. Not… not really.”  “C’mon, lass.” 

It wasn’t the first time, but it was one of his favourites.

He’d held you against him, his sheets over both of your bodies, comfortable silence surrounding the two of you, clothes a welcomed barrier to anything else—as you held him like he was your rock in a storm.

Just like the two of them did on that first mission together. 

I trust you. You know that, don’t you? Course, lass. Be bit awkward if y’didn’t? I mean, I don't do this with anyone else. Sleep with them... like this. I hope fuckin' not. You're special, Johnny. That's all I mean.

Sleep took you seconds later. Gently stealing you from him, breaths turning heavier and body relaxing and moulding around him. 

Soap had found, in that space between reality and sleep, that’s when you were the most free. When your tongue is loosened and your heart is without chains. A side of you he sees in fleeting moments when he’s alone with you, but in a greater capacity like this—when you’re about to leave him for your dreams. 

Now, though, it’s different.

You're weighed down by more than stress and pride, but rocks and fucking anchors. Whether because of the growing casualties or because you missed your bed, because it brought up memories you only ever half told him about.

He knows this because he's overheard Gaz ask you if you’re okay—Soap watching from the sidelines as you lie through your teeth. Something you’re getting better at, somewhat able to control your features, almost a poker face. 

He knows you hate lying, to them at least. Each lie you spit opens a sore inside of you. It’s why he’s not asked himself. Not wanting to give you something else to churn and worry over, knowing it knots your insides and makes you spiral. 

It’s not his turn to keep watch, but he follows you up the ladder all the same. He leans, the air coating his skin, making him already dream about the dribble they call a shower. Because even the rooftop wall is boiling, almost cooking him through his vest and clothes. 

“Talk to me, lass. What’s keepin’ y’up?” 

You don’t look at him, continuing your pacing, eyes trained in the distance. But your breath audibly catches, clearly startled, clearly rattled by his question—his presence. 

“I hate losing.” 

“We ain’t gonna lose, Mari.” 

Your chin lifts, tongue swiping across dry, cracked lips. “I know… we’re the best of the fucking best. But…” 

He knows. 

He’s been feeling it too. 

That thing. Unexplainable. The shadow in the corner, the one which has been haunting and hunting them since the wheels touched down. Sometimes, it’s easy, and sometimes it’s methodical—it’s torturous observing until the perfect moment. And when it’s the latter, it has a way of scratching at sensibility. 

They all have a past. A failed mission that stands out from the rest—one that reminds each of them not to relax, to not let their guard down—what a single mistake can cause. 

Your head turns, the moon casting a shadow across your features, and the hold you have on his heart tightens—nails digging in deep as the muscle tries to thump. 

“Johnny, I’m just so t—“

But it’s stolen, your explanation. 

Heavy boots and a masked face cut off whatever you were about to say. Eyes sitting around darkness, staring from him to you, bouncing, before frowning. 

“It's not your watch, Johnny—"

"—I know—"

"You should get some sleep."

He wants to argue. Almost bloody does, too. 

Wants to dig his heels in, and get you to continue, but he’s tired—his shoulders aching, his eyes stinging.

But, it's your words from another mission that come to mind. The ones from when you’d emerged like a phoenix—fire and smoke behind you as you stumbled into his arms— 

Dunna do that, lass. Scare me. Need to stop worrying, Soapie. I always find my way back. I promise.

So he nods. He leaves. His palms descend down the ladder, half-stopping when he realises he left the window opening pausing.

He's not sure what he’s expecting—if anything at all. A confirmation, maybe? That the girl who drives him mad, has feelings for the more obvious choice. The brooding, big lieutenant who spits army jokes like he has an arsenal of them; the one you spend more time under, even if it’s sparring, than any of the others.

He’s about to move, shaking his nonsensical thoughts when he hears Ghost.

“Y’gotta stop fighting us all, Squidlet.”

“I’m not.”

“You fuckin’ are, and you know it.” 

Silence. Horrid, fucking silence. So much so, his mind begins to fill with images of your bodies moving together, arms pulling the other close, ripping, shredding—

“You’ll be a piss poor shot if y’don’t sleep. Plus, you’re wearing Johnny out.” 

His face flushes, bloody burns in the space between the second floor and the roof.

He doesn't miss you mumble that you’re not. All dismissive. Making his hands grip the spindle of the ladder, releasing a puff of air. 

“If I sleep—“

“The world will keep turnin', trust me.” 

“You almost sound like you care.” 

His heart sinks, drops—and fucking plummets. Because you’re right. It does. It sounds exactly like that. The nickname. The way he’s come up when it’s not even his watch. All of it screaming that it’s something—all flashing lights and loud music accompanying it. 

“Go to sleep, Squidie.” 

“It’s my—“

“Go.” 

He has to move. 

He needs to move. 

Even if he wants to pull you close to him. Even if it feels like you’re slipping through his fingers.

Just like he had done when he first realised how he felt, how he’d been feeling. When he’d almost told you. Rain hammering down, drowning you both to the bone. The two of you sent east, the rest west. Splitting a building each, finding his empty, and telling you as much. Your radio silence still haunted him. His blood thumping in his ears, ripping through each room, doing what he does best—cleaning fucking house. Finding you, bruised, bleeding, your knife in hand trembling under a dead body. The sound of boots drawing nearer to the opening they’d made—

“Thanks, Simon.” 

He blinks in the present. The memory faded into nothing, vanishing like smoke—like it was never even there. Whatever held the last parts of him, snapped. His eyes staring up, pricking with the heat and the moment—stinging, aching. 

You called him his name.

It left your tongue wrapped in intimacy, in care.

He’s unsure how he reaches the bottom of the ladder, his palms closed, fists clenched, nothing else in his head except getting to his room. Crossing the landing, passing the room with the others, only focusing on reaching his own room. The small thing—the cupboard with a single bed he’d managed to cop. 

Everything he's squashed down, rises. They all begin to angrily fuse, mixing with the heat and his pent up frustration that he’s still here—so much so he almost slams the door. Almost.  

His fingers instead press the thin wood into its frame. The click blessing the air like the first strum of a guitar, his heart beating like a drum—and then a knock, one belonging to a smaller hand, calloused, but still soft, the bass that sets the mood. All of it blending, creating a song he's not sure if he'll love or hate.

He knows it’s you. Knows it as he opens the door, watching you stare up at him, sliding your vest from your body, all defeated and knackered beyond belief. 

Deep down, no matter what his brain says—what he hears, what he sees—he at least knows it’s him you choose to curl up to. That when you really need comfort, it’s him you look for. It’s him you pull close until your bodies almost merge into one. 

“Hi.”

“Lass...” 

You look troubled, more weighed down than he really noticed. Not even bothering to hide it, to plaster a smile over the cracks. 

“Can I… Soap, I can’t…” you chew the inside of your cheek, avoiding his eyes as you sigh. 

He tugs on your wrist, pulling you to him. Your body falling into him like it’s weightless, like you’re all attitude and feathers. Bringing you close, holding your head to his chest—almost swaying with you. 

It always starts like this. 

One, long hug. Rooted to the spot. Nothing—not a single thing able to penetrate the two of you. Frozen in a moment no one can ever take. And then, he’ll turn, finding shorts and a different t-shirt, hearing you undress before finding something more comfortable. Sometimes it’s your own, sometimes it’s his. 

And fuck, when it’s his. 

Your wicked, but sleepy smile is a picture for sore eyes and one he wishes he could take a photo of when you wait for his invite, as if you ever need one to climb into his bed.

Your bodies slide against the mattress. Usually, the springs protest, but the cot you’re sharing just groans in frustration as both of your sets of limbs find their place. 

It should feel awkward, but it never does. He shouldn’t crave this, should be able to sleep solidly without a person on his chest. But, he finds he sleeps better with you. Finds that dreams are easier, that there’s more sunshine, more hope and fucking rainbows in the world when you’re on top of him, softly breathing. 

“Night, Mari.” 

He waits. 

Your usual sleepy ‘Soapie’ or ‘Johnny’ blessing his ears. But none come, none. And he almost tenses, almost moves you to see your face. 

“You… you don’t mind that we do this, do you?” 

His hand tilts your chin up, staring into those eyes, begging them to give him a reason—either to close the gap or begin the process of getting over you. Something. Anything. 

Because how could he mind this, when he wants something more? 

He’d ask for it too. If he weren’t afraid. The big demolition man scared of losing you, of losing this, by being greedy and wanting more. 

“Neve’, lass. I like being the person y’come t’when you need somethin’.”

He doesn’t miss the smile. The soft one. The one which you rarely show, but is bloody beaming for him now. 

“It’s only you, Soapie,” you say, curling tighter into him, leaving no space. 

And it takes all of his control. 

Thoughts of his great-aunt with her harsh accent and wiry moustache to be able to pull you closer. Your head on his chest, fingers dancing up and down your arm as he feels you relax, muscle by muscle. 

“Only me, y’say?” 

You let out a soft breath, one that dances warmth over his t-shirt—almost over the hair on his chest. “You’re an idiot, Johnny. Course it is, who else?” 

And he smiles. 

Not at his name, not at the insult, but the fact you’re falling asleep—something you’ve not done for two full days. And it’s on him. 

Only him. 

He buries the rest of your words. The ‘who else’ and the instant answer that appeared on the tip of his tongue. He can unpack it another time. 

There’s something about waking on top of him. Clothes are a horrid, but necessary barrier between the two of you. 

You don’t want things to change, for them to spoil, to wilt and fade from grasp. So, you’ll put up with only having this, having him in this way. At least then, you'll always have arms around you that you know won’t hurt you. You’ll accept the hugs, and long for the cuddles; you’ll settle for sleeping alongside him, rather than with him. 

And, you won't tell MacTavish that you think he’s handsome, no matter how much he dares you to drink. That even asleep he is beautiful, even minus the evidence of his smile, and the dimples you wish to trace with your fingers. He’s still everything, without being anything. 

He’s your best friend, your safety, your person. 

He feels like home, a soul that grounds you and keeps you rooted. He makes you better, helps you grow and—

Your fingers draw a circle on his chest. Watching his lashes flutter, his eyes slowly opening, and your throat going dry—like it does each time he looks at you with so much softness. 

I think I’m in love with you, Johnny. 

That’s what you should say. 

Instead, you say, “Morning, Soapie.” 

READ NEXT PART

[ingravinoveritas]

How did u feel with the age gap question was it pr or do u really think he meant it and this was the truth

This is referring to the question asked on The Assembly last night. I'll post the clip here, for those who haven't seen it yet:

A lot of what I felt while watching this was touched on in this incredibly thoughtful post from @body-face-words, so I encourage folks to give that a read. But I think for me, when it comes to Michael's answer, it's not a matter of whether he lied or told the truth. It's that his response was sweet, but it was also a version of the truth that sounded convincing because it needed to, because this was not a time or place where he could say what he actually felt.

I'm really not sure what people expected him to say, in all honesty, as he was never going to say anything that would make him or Anna look bad, and especially not anything that could potentially negatively impact the kids, so he instead gave a very perfect PR answer. This again does not come as a surprise because we know Michael has scripted his answers about AL/their relationship in the past, but I noticed how careful he was in his response, which seems to contrast with how off-the-cuff he normally is when discussing every other subject. Part of what so many of us love about Michael is how unfiltered he is and always has been, with the exception of how much he filters and edits himself when talking about Anna.

It also seemed like, at least from my perspective, that Michael answered the question without answering the question. What the girl asked wasn't so much about the age gap, but about AL being five years older than Michael's daughter Lily, and it would've been a perfect opportunity for him to mention her, or how the relationship with AL affected his and Lily's relationship. He could've talked about the falling out he had with her (and Kate) in 2019 once AL's existence/pregnancy came to light, and what has happened in the years since, or how Lily now gets along with Anna/her half-sisters. But instead Michael deflected from all of that and talked about everything while saying nothing at the same time.

It was also the things Michael didn't say that stood out as much as the things he did. In the entire answer to the question, Michael never once used the word "love." Prior to the show airing, I saw a lot of people online confident that he would say that he loves Anna, but he never did. He never praised her, never talked about the things he loves about her, or how glad he is to be with her. He never once mentioned her by name. The pivot and focus was on the kids, and there was a clear distinction made between how happy he is to have the family he does, rather than to be in the relationship that he is in. Michael's use of the phrase "very happy" was also identical to the wording of a comment AL wrote on Instagram the other day, which added to the whole "reinforcing a public narrative" feeling of his response.

I think what struck me most of all, though, was how somber and heavyhearted Michael sounded while saying how happy he is. It reminded me of the song "I Am a Rock" by Simon & Garfunkel, where the upbeat and cheerful music contrasts starkly with the fraught, angry lyrics. There was no sparkle in Michael's eyes when he said it, no enthusiasm for what he was saying (which is particularly jarring when we know Michael has the capacity for incredible enthusiasm), and his face never lit up while he was talking.

There was one specific moment (which is also highlighted in the body language post) where he seemed to visibly wince and the micro-expressions were in overdrive, and it immediately made me think of a moment from Good Omens:

Time and again, I have seen fans talk about Michael's micro-expressions as an actor and how he uses them to such devastating effect (especially in the role of Aziraphale). And while these two moments are not completely identical, the idea of ignoring how Michael uses those same micro-expressions in real life makes no sense to me at all. In this instance, what we're seeing could be either because he has put so much of himself into Aziraphale that we can now recognize those "Michael" moments...or it could be because in both clips he is performing, albeit for different reasons.

The difference between Michael when he is doing this vs. when he is being genuinely himself is made even more apparent by the question immediately following this one. Unprompted, he brings up David, and the change in his expression and demeanor is swift and dramatic:

Having the mention of David happen so soon after the AL question seemed to highlight so many things. I can't help but feel that David is a security blanket for Michael, something he hides behind when he is feeling anxious or sad or overwhelmed. I wondered if perhaps he was even already thinking of David while answering the AL question, which would explain why he named him so readily--as if his mind needed to drift to someplace else just to finish answering that question.

To me, this made it abundantly clear that David is Michael's safe place. Here was where we saw Michael's eyes sparkling. Here was where we saw him light up from the inside. And it was David he kept returning to and bringing up during the rest of the show in response to other questions. So if that doesn't speak volumes about where Michael's heart seems to be, I'm not sure what does.

So yes, those are my thoughts on Michael answering the age gap question on The Assembly. As always, this is just my interpretation, but I am glad to hear from my followers with your take as well. Thanks for writing in! x

[corrupted-nightshade]

List of things that point towards Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru being kissers of boys with connections to eachother

(If they did kiss though is another story)

Note: the list will be divided into different sections with space in between. So don't go speed scrolling through if you don't want spoilers. :"3

Some of these are less serious, but are still included because all the more content for these two sillies.

--- Last updated: April 26th, 2024 Note: Make sure to check the original post if viewing a reblog version in case Tumblr does not update things under the "read more" like it used to be able to.

Various

572. This number is used frequently as a ship number for the two as "GoGe" the ship name can also be produced as "GoNatsu". Go means 5 and the rest sound similar to 72. These numbers ironically show up accross the series a few times and also in official merch. (Some examples being a clock in season 2 episode 1 stopped at 5 hours 7 minutes 20 seconds or a Gojo teddy bear priced at ¥57,200)

JJK official fanbook

"Q: Please tell us his first impression when he first met Geto. A: Bangs."

"Q: He seems to be aware that he is handsome, but doesn't he want a lover? A: I can't imagine Gojo being faithful to a particular woman."

"Q: Is there anything you are particular about Geto's character design? A: Bangs"

One of Gojo's songs & one of Geto's songs given to them. "Shame on you" by "Avicii" (a break up song) for Gojo and "Come back Home" by "Two door cinema club" for Geto. Stated in volume 3 chapter 24.

The sheer amount of times Geto shows up in MMVs for Gojo and how they display the impact Geto had on Gojo (For example, the latest MMV for volume 26's release)

Their birthday's solar terms tying in with parts. (Geto being "Risshun" beginning of spring & Gojo being "Taisetsu" heavy snow.)

Rings for them that were released on August 8th, which is "Pairing day" in Japan

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Jujutsu Kaisen 0

Geto's kesa is specifically a Gojo kesa

Gojo stating in 0 that

"I've always believed... ...Love manifests the most distorted curses." / "This is my personal theory, but there's no curse more twisted than love."

Even after 10 years, Gojo recognized Geto's smell. (The mall scene after Yuta & Toge fought the curse)

Geto renaming someone to "Sato" because

"That's what I've decided, so Sato is better."

This sunset scene

Gojo's veil is black & Geto's veil is white. Gojo's veil causes darkness, Geto's does not. [Peep who reminded me]

The song "This is pure love" not only plays over Yuta & Rika vs Geto, but also plays over Geto & Gojo's conversation

The way that Geto looks at Gojo & says his name, and how Gojo looks at Geto & says his name

Geto's blushing face at Gojo that we were robbed of in the anime

Some of the lines from the JJK 0 light novel lines

"Yet Gojo's bandage-covered eyes kept watching, kept following the shape of Geto's soul."

"But to Gojo Satoru, he was —— '————, ————' '...ha.' When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing [...] words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before. 'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.' December 24, 2017. The curse called Geto had been well and truly exorcised."

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Season 1

JJK Juju stroll

"Q: What kind of person is your type?" Gojo: "[...]The one who seemed nice. With the notable bangs."

yes, i know who he stated but the way he answered was so half arsed as he struggled to come up with an answer as an example of his type. 💀

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Season 2

Again, the way they look at each other and say each other's names (There's another picture with Gojo looking at Geto, but I'm missing it right now)

THE HECKIN GOJO & GETO VALENTINES CAKE??

They literally even have a themed honeymoon place???

Geto makes sure Gojo has his favorite soda. :3

Part 1 / volume 8 - 9

The intro for season 2 part 1

"Even after I got to know the smell of you, different from mine"

"In such a color as if it were a silent love"

"I've got a curse word for you stuck in the back of my throat"

The outro for season 2 part 1:

"Even trivial conversations are fine Show me your blushing face once more"

"It only exists here I want to touch you"

The fish in the outro

The flowers in the intro & outro. [Peep who reminded me]

The purple ones (Located on table in the part where older Gojo is sitting in a chair by a window) are possibly Primula/Primrose flowers. They can represent young love, beauty, desire, desperate, and can be a symbol of spring and renewal/new beginnings. etc.

The yellow ones (Located in the part where Gojo & Geto are sitting together with their hands & cans of soda surrounded by the flowers) are possibly osmanthus flowers. They can represent love, passion, happiness, beauty, etc.

[See here , here, here , here , here , here ]

Geto not answering Tsukumo Yuki's question of what kind of woman is his type more than once

When Geto is asked by Haibara if he would like a sweet or savory souvenir, Geto says

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

Part 2 / volume 11

This whole image (Geto in the glasses on the left, and Kenjaku's silhouette on Gojo's face on the right)

Season 2 part 2's "Specialz" intro hidden meaning

Despite the following about Geto's state, Geto's body still instinctively reacted to stop Kenjaku from hurting Gojo.

"Q: Fake Geto's arm was moving during the Shibuya Incident, but how much of Geto's consciousness remains in the body? A: Not much. He was moving like how a dragonfly whose neck was torn off can move."

Fun fact: Some owls pair/bond for life (Whether the owl is supposed to be Geto's because Kenjaku is using Geto at the time or it's not Geto's animal because that is Kenjaku is up to you)

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Volume 26

The Camilla flowers with snow. Not only do they represent Gojo well with their meaning, including one meaning being unchanging/strong love alongside modest love / beauty for pink, but flowers are given to different dates. The birth flower of February is this flower, said to bloom on the 3rd of this month. Aka Geto's birthday.

Chapter 236

Gojo actively chose to fight on December 24th (a day considered romantic for Japan) which is now the day both Geto and him have died on. Even Kenjaku acknowledges the days significance with

"Ha ha! How romantic. Isn't it gross to make plans with each other on Christmas eve?"

These lines

Both Gojo & Geto's volumes' numbers can have bad meanings in Japan. 4 can mean death & 9 can mean to suffer/agony. (I put this under volume 26's section because of the spoiler)

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There's likely more, but this is what we could think of right now. XD If you have anything you want to add on, feel free to send it my way because the more help the better & easier this is. (^w^ ) Same for any corrections to the list (as it's just me writing up this post and I may make slip ups)

[peachy-panic]

Companion, pt. 2

A (slightly delayed) follow up to this chapter. Jaime & Sebastian add another member to their little makeshift household.

WARNINGS: The usual BBU stuff, animal shelter setting, collars, mentions of past foster care, anxiety, but mostly good things happening here.

The animal shelter they chose is in the heart of the city. Their website mentioned that they often deal with overpopulation, since it’s the biggest one in the area, so Sebastian thought they might have the most positive impact by adopting from them. They have a list of available animals with photos that they update daily, but Jaime turned down Sebastian’s offer to look through them.

He doesn’t tell him that swiping through a catalog of strays, deciding their fate behind the comfort of a computer screen, feels too much like how a prospective Keeper might shop for their Companion. How someone once shopped for him.

They make a plan to go on Saturday morning, and Jaime spends the rest of the week quietly stewing in an unnamed anxiety. He doesn’t bring it up—not when Sebastian talks excitedly about pet toys he found online over dinner, not when his nerves cut into his ability to fall asleep at night, and certainly not when he is buckled into the passenger seat, watching the big, yellow bridge that leads into downtown come into view. 

The building itself is large but sparse, all cement-gray walls and scuffed floors and signs of age that reflect a probable lack of funding. As they walk through the main hallway, flanked by rows of doors and cages, Jaime thinks that it reminds him a little of the training facility. He keeps that to himself, too. 

There is a volunteer—a young woman with her hair in a bun and a stain on her shirt—showing Jaime and Sebastian around. 

“The dogs are back this way,” she says. “Green tags on the doors are puppies under six months. Yellow tags mean they can be a little jumpy around people, red equals not good matches for homes with young children. Blue tags mean they’re seniors. Those are usually the ones that have been with us the longest.”

Jaime tries hard not to think about what happens to the senior dogs that overstay their welcome. 

“Cats are on this side,” she continues, pointing to her left. “We just ask that you wash your hands if you enter one of the playrooms, and avoid direct contact with any red tags. Any questions?”

Sebastian looks at Jaime, who tenses slightly at the attention but shakes his head. 

“I think we’re all good.” Sebastian says. 

She smiles. “Just let us know if you have any questions.”

With a nod, they set off down the hall on their own, Jaime sticking close to Sebastian’s heels. 

“So,” Sebastian says, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “Anywhere in particular you want to start? Young? Old? Big? Small?”

Jaime looks around at all the cages, suddenly overwhelmed—by the decision, by the sharp whines and barks for attention, by the closeness of the other prospective adopters, by the sad, watchful eyes of the animals as people pass them by. By the collars fastened around their necks, reminding Jaime of the weight of his own, the visibility of it peeking up through the dip in the sweatshirt neckline. Absently, he touches the warm metal with his fingertips. 

Sebastian seems to sense his discomfort, because he eases back. “You know what? Maybe we just take a lap or two and see what happens,” he says. “Maybe there will be an instant connection.”

They start with a black lab with a green tag on his cage door, who instantly jumps up and tries to paw at them when Sebastian sinks into a crouch.

“Well, aren’t you full of energy?” Sebastian’s voice lifts into a high sing-song tone when he speaks to the dogs, and the surprise of it is so endearing that it momentarily pulls Jaime from his inward spiral. “Only five months old,” he says to Jaime.

Against his wishes, memories of a long lost life in foster care rise to the surface. Jaime had been old enough when he entered to know that his chances of finding a family to adopt him were low, and only getting lower with each passing birthday.

“I’m sure she’ll be very popular,” Jaime says.

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, sticking his finger through one of the holes in the grate so that the puppy can sniff him. “You’ll find a home in no time, sweet girl.”

They move past a few more cages, Sebastian seemingly thrilled with the prospect of bringing any one of them home, but Jaime’s anxiety only grows. It’s when they come upon a cage with a golden labrador puppy—one that looks a little too similar to the fading image he has of a puppy from his childhood—that he reaches a breaking point. 

He takes a few steps away—not so far as to wander away from Sebastian’s watch, but a couple of doors down the row. Jaime takes slow, deep breaths as he looks down at the sleeping dog in the kennel in front of him, trying to imagine her laying on Sebastian’s living room rug. Trying not to imagine what it might look like to feed her every day, to brush her, to walk her, to love her, and then to leave her behind in six months when Jaime is called back to the facility. 

Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind Jaime’s straying, so he allows himself the space, moving slowly along the row of animals. He makes it all the way to the end of the hall when a flash of movement catches his eye. At the corner, secluded away from the glass-walled play rooms, is a singular cage with a black cat inside. The flash of movement he saw, it seems, was the cat’s abrupt recoil from a pair of reaching hands.

“Don’t put your fingers in the cage!” A young mother scolds, grabbing her child’s wrist and pulling him back from the cage. “You’re going to get bit.”

The kid gies a grumble of complaint but moves onto the next door quickly, not sparing a look back at the cage. Jaime watches as the black cat shrinks even further behind a wadded up blanket, pressing herself to the back corner of the cage, where no one can reach. Her bright, green eyes scan the area, back and forth, watching for invaders. She doesn’t look aggressive, Jaime thinks. She looks scared. 

Without realizing it, Jaime has taken a step toward the cage. He sees both a blue and a yellow tag on the door and tries to remember what the codes mean. On a small slip of paper at the top of the cage, the name “Bella” is written out in sharpie. 

“Hi Bella,” he whispers, barely audible. “You’re okay.”

Slowly, broadcasting the movement as much as he can, he lifts a hand and places the tip of his finger just at the edge of the cage; not enough to intrude the walls of her space, but hopefully enough to be a show of invitation. Bella looks at his finger for a long few seconds, then up at his eyes. Stupidly, Jaime smiles, like it might soften her to him.  

“Pretty eyes, right?”

The sudden voice startles him, even more for the fact that it isn’t Sebastian’s. He pulls his hand away like it was burned and turns to find another young woman with a volunteer shirt on. 

“Sorry,” he says automatically.

“No need,” she says, then nods her head toward the cage. “I think you’ve got her attention.” 

Jaime looks back at the cage and finds that the cat has taken a few steps out from her hiding spot, a curious nose pointed where Jaime’s finger had been. Carefully, darting a quick look at the woman for approval, Jaime lifts his hand again. This time, the cat only stares at it for a few seconds before she bumps her nose against his skin. A breath of a laugh startles out of him. 

“That’s the most contact she’s had with anyone on her own terms,” the girl says. “She must like you.”

“Can I ask…?” Jaime starts then hesitates. The woman's gaze dips, almost unwittingly, to Jaime’s throat. He watches something flash across her expression before she schools it with a neutral look. 

“You can ask me,” she tells him. 

“Why is she in a cage by herself? Away from the other cats?”

“She’s FIV+.”

Jaime glances back at the cat. “She’s sick?”

The woman nods. “It’s an immunodeficiency virus. There’s no cure for it, but it’s entirely possible for cats to live full, happy lives with it. But it’s best that she goes to a home with no other cats.”

“I think he… My…” Jaime clears his throat. “I think he is looking for a dog.”

She presses her lips into a thin line. “I see.”

As if summoned, Sebastian appears at his shoulder. “Oh, look at this cutie!”

Jaime tries to conceal his startled jump. “Her name is Bella,” he says quietly. 

“Look at her,” Sebastian croons, crouching beside the cage but not attempting to make contact. “She’s a love bug.”

“She’s actually quite shy,” the woman says, taking the smallest nudge of a step in front of Jaime to stand between them. “I was just telling him how he must be special to win her over so quickly.”

Sebastian’s first instinct is to shoot Jaime a smile. He stands slowly, knees cracking, and says, “I can’t say I’m surprised.” Then, to Jaime, he adds, “I didn’t know you were a cat person.”

“I’ve never had one,” he says honestly. 

“Hmm.” Sebastian turns back toward the cat, studying her for a few long seconds before he says, “Do you like her?”

Jaime blinks, letting his hand slowly drop to his side. In his periphery, he sees Bella raise a paw to tap impatiently against the cage wall. 

“I…” He looks to the cat, to the volunteer, and back at Sebastian. “Yes.” 

Sebastian nods, once, decisively, then turns to the volunteer. “We’ll take her.”

There’s a moment’s pause. They both turn to him, surprised. “I… I thought you wanted a dog,” Jaime says. 

He shrugs. “I think Bella has made the decision for us, really.” He nods toward where she is still perched at the edge of the cage, nuzzling against the bars to reach Jaime. “I mean, look at her. It’s out of our hands.”

He is fawning over the cat—who has decided to regard him with a look of skeptical displeasure—but Jaime only has eyes for Sebastian. He blinks up at him, trying to tame the spread of warmth in his chest. “Really?” he asks. 

Sebastian gives an uncertain smile, one that Jaime is becoming more and more familiar with. “Is that okay with you?”

Jaime swallows tightly, lowering his voice. “You’ll keep her?” he asks, trying to ignore the inquisitive glance from the volunteer. “Even when I’m gone?”

It looks like there’s a lot more that Sebastian wants to say, but in their present company, he only meets Jaime’s eyes and says, “Yes. Of course”

Jaime breathes out and gives a single, decisive nod. 

“Alright then,” the woman breaks the silence after a few tense moments. “Let’s get the paperwork started.”

***

On the way home, Sebastian drives carefully enough that his knuckles go white around the steering wheel, trying to avoid every bump and crack in the road. Jaime is in the backseat, which is an arrangement Sebastian normally wouldn’t prefer, but it’s only because he wants to be able to sit next to Bella’s carrier. 

He casts a glance in the rearview mirror to see Jaime gently running the back of his finger against the mesh wall, ducking his head so he can peek inside. 

“What should we name her?” Sebastian asks, almost regretting breaking the moment of reverence. 

Jaime sits up, meeting his eyes in the mirror. A dip of confusion forms between his brows. “You don’t like the name Bella?”

“Oh.” Sebastian blinks. “I—no, it’s cute. I like it. Just… I think most of the time the names they’re given in the shelter are temporary things? People usually change them to whatever they want when they bring them home.”

Jaime is quiet long enough to make Seabstian think maybe he’s stepped in something he didn’t mean to. Then, he asks, “Do you think she had a name before the shelter?”

Sebastian shrugs. “They didn’t know much about her history. If she was a stray her whole life, I guess she probably didn’t.”

He looks back down at the carrier, continuing the slow, soothing motion of his finger. “I’m okay with whatever name you decide for her,” he says, and Seabstian can’t help but hear a bit of dejection slip through. 

The pieces connect, and Sebastian considers the kind of weight a name might carry for someone who has had his stolen. 

Sebastian tightens his grip on the steering wheel, keeping his voice as even as he can. “No, I think you’re right,” he says. “Bella suits her just fine.”

****

@whumpervescence @shiningstarofwinter @distinctlywhumpthing@whumptywhumpdump @nicolepascaline @anotherbluntpencil @hold-him-down @crystalquartzwhump @maracujatangerine @batfacedliar-yetagain @thecyrulik @pumpkin-spice-whump @finder-of-rings @melancholy-in-the-morning @insaneinthepaingame @skyhawkwolf @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @mylifeisonthebookshelf @dont-touch-my-soup @whump-world @inpainandsuffering @cicatrix-energy @quietly-by-myself @whumpsday @extemporary-whump @the-whumpers-grimm @thebirdsofgay @firewheeesky @whumperfully @hold-back-on-the-comfort  @termsnconditions-apply  @cyborg0109  @whumplr-reader  @pinkraindropsfell  @whatwhumpcomments @honeycollectswhump @pirefyrelight @handsinmotion @alexmundaythrufriday @scoundrelwithboba

[littleandless]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON 2 FINALE: MY THOUGHTS

i mean, wow.

tyland getting some screen time yay. also, i was glad to see the trend of dyed beards represented on screen FINALLY. game of thrones shied away from that.

aegon and larys running away together…doomed yaoi</3

honestly i’m glad they made aegon’s broken dick part of show canon. first of all, he deserves it, but also…it means he’s about to get perverted in a different way. maybe larys will introduce him to voyeurism.

jacaerys has gone full-on bratty failson, which is kind of pathetic and sexy of him tbh.

ulf went from harmless idiot to dangerously irreverent soooo quickly. i know he has a dragon or whatever but he should at least pretend to kiss ass for the moment. like hugh! he knows the value of appearances.

how the hell did gwayne even find out about alicent and criston fucking? am i meant to assume he extrapolated that from the intense sniffing of the handkerchief?

i love how nihilistic criston cole has become. no more shiny white veneer, just a bald-faced suicide mission. he doesn’t fear death. the only thing holding him back since that night when alicent found him was her. and now he sees the futility of it all. so yeah, let’s embrace death! yippee!

this episode added so much to helaena’s character. after we see her and daemon interact in his weirwood vision, it cuts to her in the next scene, in the same outfit with the same facial expression. we’ve had 2 seasons of helaena making prophetic statements, but they were always full of metaphors, and her dreamer status seemed more like something that happened to her rather than something she did. but this episode turns that assumption completely on its head.

the weirwood vision was INSANE! BLOODRAVEN! DAENERYS! THE WHITE WALKERS! it reminded me that we’re being told this story for a purpose. grrm didn’t write a spin-off just for the sake of making a few extra dollars. it’s all connected. we’ve been hearing about the dance since shireen baratheon taught davos seaworth about it in season 5 and joffrey spoiled the ending in season 3 of game of thrones. and when ser duncan and baby egg finally appear on screen in a knight of the seven kingdoms, witnessing the blackfyre rebellions amd interacting with brynden rivers, things will be recontextualized yet again. the impact of all of these characters reverberates for centuries. you see it everywhere in a song of ice and fire. even if you’re not much of a reader, i implore you to read them anyway. and i’m not just saying that. even if grrm never actually finishes the series, i will die swearing that it was totally worth the read. if you have any love for these characters at all, give it a shot.

back to helaena: her scene with aemond was fucking fantastic. away from the eyes of their mother, each of them is more themselves than ever. aemond isn’t just an incel a wounded aggressor and helaena isn’t just a wounded dove. they both have a clarity of purpose, and they are in direct opposition to the other’s. aemond “come with me, help me defend us and all we hold dear” and helaena “it won’t change anything, it’s over, you’re already dead” it had me on the absolute edge of my seat. i felt like a dog in need of a stuffed animal to annihilate with my teeth. THIS IS CINEMA.

back to daemon: from his first scene in the episode, we see a resignation that wasn’t there before. he accepts the maddening nature of harrenhal, he accepts alys hovering over him at night and leading him to the weirwood tree, and he doesn’t brush off her words. he embraces the power of this place as well as the finality of what it reveals to him. there will be no more yearning or grasping, at least not for his own purposes. he knows what he must do. he submits to rhaenyra as he submits to his impending death.

the scene between alyn and corlys was so powerful. idk maybe it’s because i have daddy issues too, but it moved me a lot. watching your father forsake you for his trueborn heirs while you toil ceaselessly for survival, and then witnessing the downfall of everything he holds dear, and then finally…finally he acknowledges your value. knowing that all your success as a ship captain is attributed to the man who didn’t or couldn’t give you shit else. trying to compensate for decades-old wounds. all of this and he can still barely stand to meet your eyes. GOD.

another illicit rhaenicent scene! so much sexual potential and they just keep squandering it!

but seriously, that scene was insane. alicent has completely given up. “here, have the castle. take king’s landing. i’ll open the door for you. fuck, take my son too, take it all.”

all of their relationship encapsulated in a single conversation! everything boiled down to its base essence: i clung to honor and tradition and resented you because you didn’t, and now i’ve done some of the same things i always judged you for and i’ve realized it doesn’t matter. i just want this all to end.

that’s it, guys! that’s their whole dynamic! hell, that’s the whole show basically! but it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late! it’s too late!

someone redesign the sigil of house targaryen as a dragon eating its own tail and wrap this shit up

[rainbowdaisy13]

TTPD The Anthology Summary Part 1 *IMO*

This is viewed through a queer lens because I believe she is fucking done playing nice so now she’s throwing it in our faces—FUCKING SEE ME

1) Fortnight—

I was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me/I was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic

*MIGHTY GOD we start right out the gate sad as hell—no one noticed her queer flagging both quiet and loud and that pushed her from being a functioning alcoholic to a not functioning one. She then says to the fans who refused to acknowledge her truth “I hope that you’re ok but you’re the reason” FOR ME BEING INSANE

*Mentioning wanting to kill people that’s a first and I love it

*I love you it’s ruining my life OUCH 🤕 yes that sounds like something straight people deal with 😑

2) TTPD-

*I’m sorry I can’t remember what mutual said this, but I love love this as coming from Karlie’s perspective. It absolutely fits. She ground Taylor in a way no one else can

*First mention of suicide—both can’t live without the other

*Were crazy—owning the demons together

*The wedding ring line—GOD

3) MBOBHFT—

*I see this one as Taylor viewing herself as a commodity, also as someone who is broken and needs to be fixed so that she remains lovable. It also gives me Cardigan vibes without the redemption arc

4) Down Bad—

*Love this Alien Abduction theme. Melody is even spacey sounding. The entire song uses alien motifs and I adore it. Fave line “they’ll say I’m nuts if I talk about the existence of you” Brilliant 👽 Also the concept of an Out of this World Love

5) So Long London—

*Cool opening—beautiful when they layer her own voice

How much sad did you think I had in me? 😫

*I see this song as a My Tears Ricochet 2. Taylor giving all her youth to someone for free. You say I abandon the ship but I was going down with it—I truly believe she tried and begged them to let her come out for years and she was always shot down—2 graves 1 gun, more murder imagery

*So Long London, so long Big Machine

6) BDILH—

Absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking song

These people only raise you to cage you 😫

*Sarahs and Hannahs/braided hair/church/Elders making decisions—giving cult/LDS vibes

Stay away from her -Elders are yelling this—to who? Taylor? So Taylor needs to stay away from HER interesting

*Shed rather burn it all down than listen to them complain about her sexuality and how it impacts them

My good name, it’s mine alone to disgrace —absolutely shots fired at Scott Swift

*Soliloquies line is incredible—“I’ll never see” is such a burn 😆

*This isn’t a phase, this is who she is!!

*YOU AINT GOTTA PRAY FOR ME!! GET THEM ALL BITCH—SHOW THEIR ASSES

*This is my choice!!

GET 👏🏼 THEM 👏🏼 ALL

NO YOU CANT COME TO THE WEDDING PERIOD

7) FOTS—

*Pretty Baby, much like Babydoll is reserved for women and gay men and theys and thems. We don’t call straight men this 😒

*Fresh out the slammer—realllly trying to get these idiots to understand that she’s felt jailed /caged/trapped

My friends…Watch me daily disappearing 😫 fuck

Wearing Imaginary rings 😫😫😫 Says hello to paper rings says hello to imaginary lockets

*It’s gonna be alright she did her time!! 🥹

8) FLORIDA!!!—

I adore this song—my second fave on the album and absolute fucking banger. So glad Florence agreed to this they makes an amazing duo vocally—main vibes—Florida is the place Taylor wants to go to fucking escape the mess she lives in day to day. Anything goes, everyone is there hiding from something—the law, family, winter—nothing is too weird or unaccepted—and a certain someone has a house there 😎

My friends all smell like weed or little babies 😆

Florence’s verse is chefs kiss—Earl had to die vibes, watching bodies sink into the swamp, just full on misandry I LOVE IT—is that a bad thing to say in a song?? 😆 GET THEM ALL

Also I bet this song made Swifties uncomfortable 😆

FUCK ME UP FLORIDA 🤘🏼🤘🏿🤘🏾

9) Guilty as sin?

The Gay Longing/Gay Sex Song

*Another* suicide reference—but she’s just joking right swifities?

👀

No no that’s fine she just described an orgasm and if she’s not touching the person, let’s assume the pic below ⬇️ is like HEY THIS IS THE SEX IM SPEAKING ABOUT—it’s very much giving The Man pose for getting dome👀

And then the Jesus reference is just chefs kiss—gay sex is seen as sin and unholy by idiots and she said ok then bitch, what if I tell you the sex is so good we ARE what’s holy??

👀

She literally said messy top lip kiss and got away with it like 😆😆😆😆😆😆😆

10) WAOLOM—

I just……this may be my favorite song of hers ever. It’s absolutely incredible in its intensity, rawness, and truth as well as being a banger

Every lyric screams her pain

My bare hands paved their path/you don’t get to tell me about sad/ If you wanted me dead you should’ve just said

I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street —Witch Imagery again!!

WHOSE AFRAID OF LITTLE OLD ME

👹YOU SHOULD BE 👹

Shots fired again at Scott Swift!! Let’s hear one more joke—they mocked her pain because they truly thought they could convince her she wasn’t gay 🫥

GODDDD 😫

Put narcotics into all of my songs—“a drug or other substance that affects mood or behavior and is consumed for nonmedical purposes, especially one sold illegally—a drug that relieves pain and induces drowsiness, stupor, or insensibility”

SHE SAID I HAVE TO USE MALE PRONOUNS AND FAKE REFERENCES TO MEN IN MY LYRICS SO YOU IDIOTS STAY STUPID AND HAPPY

and that’s why you’re still singing along 😎

Just WOW

Brilliant and Heartbreaking and RAW

🤍🤍🤍 We love you Girl 🤍🤍🤍

[tgammsideblog]

Let's talk about Jinx vs The Human World

Jinx vs The Human World is... certainly an episode. It hasn't been talked much in comparison to The End because it has been greatly overshadowed by the later.

One thing that i think many of us can agree about Jinx vs The Human World is that it has super chaotic pacing. It doesn't give you room to breathe because it is already jumping to the next plot point and you can't digest well what you are watching. This hurts the emotional impact crucial character scenes have, because again, they aren't allowed to flow well, not letting the characters to react properly.

It's an episode that should have been around 44 minutes long since it covers multiple plot threads. With that ammount of time some things could have been better paced and given a proper conclusion.

As for the plot threads, i already talked about how i like Jinx as antagonist in this episode. She is fun, her song sequence is pretty good. She ends up capturing Molly and using her as away to power up her sobgoblins.

I really enjoy seeing Scratch finally having to deal with the consequences of not being a good leader. The reason the events of this episode happen are because of his own irresponsibilty, letting Jinx steal the Chairman robe and take over the Ghost World. He realizes that he has been messing up a lot and someone else should be in charge instead. He lets the chairman robe go and chose a more appropiate candidate to be the new chairman.

My biggest issue would be the Chens plot part. I do like the part of Ollie and June standing up to Ruben and Esther and trying to persuade them into helping them to stop Jinx. It's a scene that serves more or less well as a conclusion for their arc, even if Necro-Comicon and The Grand Gesture have this purpose, (more for Ollie's character)

The reveal that Geoff was the ghost that scared Ruben was nice too. It has been a thing that was foreshadowed back on ¨Book Marks The Sprite¨

What i'm not so fond of is how it was Geoff sneezing at him when he was a kid. I think it could been more interesting if it had been Geoff hurting Ruben by accident or scaring too much. That way Geoff apologizes to Ruben, showing to him that he didn't mean to hurt him that way.

Ruben also feels like he lacks proper scenes to show his change of mind. Sure, he realizes that Geoff wasn't evil as he thought he was, making him question things. But there isn't much else. I think there could have been a scene of Geoff saving Ruben from the sobgoblins and Ruben realizes how a ghost saved him, making him reconsider his views.

His change of mind is like it comes a bit out of nowhere. Another problem is how he seems to be super friendly around ghosts near the end which it is very weird. I think it could have been better if he had some expressions and lines that indicates that he is still trying to get used to not seeing ghosts as evil.

In addition to this, the Chens don't get to do much in this episode outside of trapping Jinx inside the phantom canister. I wished that they could have set up traps to catch the sobgoblins and contain them temporary at least, that would have given them a bigger role in the plot.

I do like some moments that June has, like her interations with Darryl and giving some funny moments. She is pretty enjoyable in this episode and she shines almost scene she is in.

In some other problems, i find the whole wraith transformation of ghost friends unnecessary, it doesn't have any funtion in the story aside from seeing how they look as wraiths (which is cool!) but the plot could have played out the same if it had been just Scratch and Molly going to the Ghost World.

The Ghost Council saying nice things about Scratch and that he wasn't so bad to give Molly joy fits well their character arcs this season, but, Sir Alister saying they are Scratch's ¨friends¨ doesn't add up since Scratch doesn't want anything to do with them and he has interacted with them because he was forced to be the Chairman in first place. I would change that line of dialogue and leave it as them thinking that Scratch is not so bad instead.

In all, i think what really hurt Jinx vs The Human World is that it needed to be a way longer episode (around 40-50 minutes) to allow things to be spaced out better. A good chunk of the issues from this episode seem to come from that. With more time to explore the events and changing some things, this episode could have been more presentable in quality as a whole.

[chronicbeans]

Y'all Ready for my Hazbin Hotel Hot Take?

I have like 3 different hot takes for the Hazbin/Helluva series, but I haven't seen anyone mention this one, yet. You ready?

Hazbin Hotel is a poorly written, but still enjoyable series (so far).

I liked watching the show, don't get me wrong. That's why I said the show is still enjoyable. Just because I think something is poorly written doesn't mean I dislike it. In fact, far from it! I've watched a lot of movies I've thought (or even the majority of the people who watched it thought) was really badly written, but still absolutely LOVED it! So, even if something is not written well, it doesn't mean you should suddenly stop enjoying it altogether. So, I'll go into the reasons why I think it wasn't necessarily written well but still enjoyable to explain what I mean. It starts out with the criticism, then ends with me explaining why I still enjoy it and a small concept.

TW: Abuse, Mental Health, Criticism of Hazbin Hotel (I know very well some of you can go crazy about it), Talking about Valentino

I mainly just think, outside of the rushed pacing, the first season had a lot of serious topics that weren't treated with the proper care needed. Such as Angel's abuse at the hands of Valentino or the Exterminations at the hands of the angels. The story tells us "this is bad", but a lot of audiences will hear that and simply not process HOW BAD it really is supposed to be, a bit like being desensitized without actually being desensitized to the topic. This is why I think the term "show don't tell" is often used when describing this show's flaws. A lot of people don't actually feel the weight of what's happening if just told. As a writer, I can understand how difficult it is to get that balance of showing enough to convey the full impact, but not showing too much as to make the story uncomfortable to read, and I'd imagine it's a lot more complicated in animation where you are actually showing what is happening. It's just that the audience feels it better when showed. While I'm not saying things like Val's abuse towards Angel or a massive group of demons getting annihilated should be shown, there are ways to show things to convey the message that these events are horrible things.

An example I like to use is the original Mulan, where the scene starts as a musical then everything goes quiet when they see the destroyed village. You see the absolute tragedy that happened, know what it implies, and nobody has to say "wow this is bad". We see it on our character's faces, hear it in the silence, and the physical darkening of the area compared to the song just before makes it hit harder. While I understand that Hazbin is a musical, I feel like it doesn't understand that there's a place and a time for a song to say and not show, as well as a place and a time for it to ENHANCE the show don't tell.

I feel this is especially important to know how to balance that with heavy topics like abuse, war, death, etc. because of the aforementioned fact that people don't understand how bad the topic is if they're just told. They feel a detachment towards the subject unless they are one of the people who have been affected by it, and if it's done wrong it can come off as offensive or even mislead people on those topics. In order to get those who don't have those experiences you need to show it in a way that isn't too intense but isn't glossing over it. It's just that Hazbin doesn't do that. While I'm glad that they try, in my opinion, it just doesn't hit it correctly, especially with Angel Dust's abuse.

However, I do love a lot of things about the show. A few of the jokes got me to laugh (this isn't meant to be a backhanded compliment, btw, it's generally hard to get me to laugh even if I find something funny so it's actually a compliment). The art is very pretty, even if I think there's too much red due to my shade blindness. Many of the characters are fun, and even the ones I despise are at least tolerable. Especially Adam! He's an asshole, but he's a fun asshole, in my honest opinion. A character you love to hate. The only real character I kind of think isn't written that well (at least for the role that he plays and the writing surrounding him) is, ironically, Valentino. Aka probably the most hated character of the series so far.

Considering Val's actions being EXTREMELY deplorable, I don't understand why there's these times where they try to make him funny or seem more lighthearted. I did enjoy that time when Niffty tore off his fluff and ran off because it served as a refresher after the intense scene of Angel confronting him, but the other times are odd to me. He seems like a threat only when the writers want him to be a threat, when really, he should be a constant threat considering one of our main characters is constantly in danger of his abuse.

He wouldn't even need much of a personality change, either. His over reactionary personality and slightly erratic behavior can be TERRIFYING if the show treated it that way. Instead, while I was watching it seemed like it was treated as more of a joke. While being over reactive isn't something that makes you a bad person, being a bad person that is over reactive can be terrifying. As someone who has met a person like that, it feels like walking on eggshells and not knowing what you should say, what you should do to calm them down, and even if you should calm them or leave them be to calm on their own. Imagine if they had that scene where Vox checks on Val, but instead of Vox being extremely calm and composed, he's visibly trying to stay calm but is internally worried. It'd show that, while the other two Vees are condoning his actions and letting them stay, even they aren't sure if they're safe from his violent temper. It'd help imply just how bad his abusive actions are towards his workers and Angel if even his two colleagues - his EQUALS - don't feel completely safe.

Anyways, that was my rant/hot take. The show doesn't have to be exactly how I want it for me to like it. Hell, I LOVE it for what it's trying to do. I just have my own critiques on how some things are handled, and the hope that it'll keep striving to attempt to handle those topics better.

[colemorrison]

HELLO!!! YOUR WRITING IS JUST- I CANT EVEN FIND WORDS!! I was wonder if you could write a Larry x reader where he's slightly high and when he sees you headbanging all he can think about is you giving him head! Only if your comfortable with that of course! Thank you!!

But I feel the way you stare.

Guys I want Larry so bad omfg.

————

It was one joint you both were a little high, not enough to make an impact just enough to highten however you were feeling. In Larry’s case he suddenly realised how attracive you looked, banging your head to some sort of Sanity’s Fall song. He forgot about his crush on you in the mixed of getting high at some point, he watched as you laughed at yourself.

“So like.. are you into dudes?”

You paused turning to him with a bright blush, you turned down the music and slid onto the couch next to him.

"I mean.. Sometimes."

The mumbled word made Larry's face lighten and his smile be replaced with a smirk, his hand reaching out to your cheek.

"You're acting like you want me to blow you."

He rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further and letting his head fall back onto the couch.

"You do don't you?"

"Look it's not my fault man."

You two had kissed sometimes, maybe even made out a few times but it never went any further. His hand moved from your cheek, running over the scars he knew lied there. You had come out when you first got high with him, the words being practically screamed out because your nerves were through the roof.

"You know, I'm not asking this of you because I think you're a girl right?"

"That sounds like you're saying girls give better head."

You played of your embarrassment better when you were high but Larry knew all the buttons to push. His hand shot out to grab your thigh and pull you to straddle his lap, one leg in between his.

"Is.. Somebody going to walk in?"

He didn't respond, it was possible but he was dying for some sort of relief, he softly rutted against your leg.

"Come on, even if you don't just stay here."

It was pretty, watching someone who could be so dominate fall down when he gave up the control. You moved one hand to grasp the back of his neck to shove his lips into yours, while the other moved to run over his covered chest.

"You really got your nipples pierced."

"Who.. did you take me for? A pussy?"

He moaned in between words, biting at your lips, his piercing brushing against the roof of your mouth as his tongue traced your teeth. You moved to slip his shirt over his head, immediately leaning down to press your tongue and teeth to his chest. It felt nice to actually see the body he hid behind that Sanity's Fall t-shirt, he was skinny but he had some muscle.

“Larry let go.”

You mumbled as you slid to get on your knees between his spread legs his hand's trembled against your hair.

“Please.”

His words were muttered as he pulled your hair softly, the way your lips pressed into his thighs made his lips quiver. He watched as your fingers slid into the waistband of his pants, Larry’s hands had a strong grip on your hair as he whimpered.

“Didn’t know getting high would make you this sensitive.”

“Please.. touch me.”

The noises he made, showed how much he had melted into your hands. You pulled his pants off and gently tongued over him while his boxers remained, the stars Larry saw made him moan out. His voice was shaken and there were small tears dripping down his cheeks, he wad thrusting his hips up into your tongue, craving for some kind of release.

“Please.”

You slid his boxers off and smirked when his back arched, he looked so pretty when he subbed.

“Don’t thrust.”

The command made Larry tremble but he nodded, trying to keep his hips still, he couldn’t stop whimpering as you played with his tip. Sure he’d rub one out every once in a while but that was his hand, something he wad used to. Now he had your tongue pressed against his slit, your lips slowly coming around to engulf his dick.

“I, don’t know.. How long i’ll last.”

He whined in between words, arching his back once again when you started to bob your head. Larry, the puddle in your hands was moaning like some sort of pornstar, it was beautiful. Unfortunately it didn’t last as long as either of you would’ve liked.

“Im, gonna. please”

He muttered gripping your hair harder as he came, painting your mouth. He let go of your hair, ruffling it as an apology for pulling so hard.

“We should get high together more often.”

“Who says I’m gonna blow you again.”