#but that gives me enough time to review and get caught up on everything i was a bit behind on for the current course

[msburgundy]

anyway, the good news is that my korean teacher wants to take a break before starting the next course so i may actually be able to do it

[xinganhao]

🃏 svt detective x thief au.

@purple-eustoma → "imagine ot13 detective! member x thief! reader or thief! member x detective! reader (however you like) being in a secret relationship and having to pretend to not catch each other."

⌗ ┆HELLO. this prompt??? SO GOOD. my jaw dropped to the floor. just to make things easier: hyung line are detective!svt x thief!reader and maknae line are thief!svt x detective!reader

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: detective/thief!svt, detective/thief!reader, established/secret relationship, angst -ish (mingyu), pet names, cussing, tw for mentions of criminal activities (theft/arson/murder), suggestive jokes, headcanons + playlist (!) under the cut.

🃏 headcanons .ᐟ

↺ |◁ II ▷ feeling good, michael buble ⋆ bang bang (my baby shot me down), nancy sinatra ⋆ no time to die, billie eilish ⋆ dark red, steve lacy ⋆ sweet dreams (are made of this), eurythmics, annie lennox, dave stewart ⋆ you don't own me, lesley gore ⋆ cherry bomb, the runaways ⋆ paper planes, m.i.a.

�� said i stole your heart, you called me a thief ✩ detective!hyung line x thief!reader.

"detective choi?" seungcheol looks up at the mention of his name, that easy smile on his face still in place. he'll never admit it, but this is one of his guilty pleasures— the way you dance around each other. within reach but out of sight. both of you should be more careful, but he knows you're skilled in the art of evasion, and he's just a good enough actor to make things discreet. he enjoys the slight thrill that comes with the prospect of being caught. this is a game and he likes to know he's winning. seungcheol flashes the rest of his team his usual grin. "no sign of them here," he says. "let's call it a day, gentlemen."

really, detective yoon knows he should have had it coming. you don't like being taunted. more than that, you don't like your date nights being derailed by pesky partners. jeonghan keeps a critical eye as he pads in to his apartment, though he immediately spots what you've left for him. the corner of a polaroid is sticking out from one of his coffee table books. he saunters over and casually snatches it up, managing to keep a blank expression at the faceless, provocative photo staring up at him. he tucks it in to his back pocket and goes to get his unsuspecting guest a beer. it didn't matter if jeonghan teased you; you would always do it right back.

detective hong's message is a warning. the new shoes are a precaution for your future escapades because, this time around, he's getting closer and closer to a positive id. joshua lets out a low tsk of disapproval. "think we can get them with this?" one of the rookie detectives dares to ask, and joshua only gives a half-hearted shrug. "we can only hope," he says blankly, even though he's going to be the one making sure it won't be so. he'll buy you the new shoes you want and an extra one to boot, and whatever else you need to keep the team off your trail. as much as he wants to deny it, the truth is plain as day: you have joshua wrapped around your finger.

the camera flashes from the media would blind detective wen if he wasn't so used to these press conferences. it's becoming a more recurring thing, especially as your heists get bolder. junhui has half the mind to beg you to just be a petty thief so he doesn't have to keep turning some other criminals in to scapegoats. as it stands, though, he can only face the press as they grill him. when will you find this thief, detective? "we're doing everything that we can to locate them," he says through his teeth. (junhui knows exactly where you are— in his bed, back at home— but he's not about to say that.) "the arm of justice is long and they will be held accountable for their crimes."

an 'accessory' is being generous. detective kwon is practically your partner in crime at this point. soonyoung maintains an air of plausible deniability, but you both see it for what it is. "i can't believe they got away again!" his partner cries as they review the cctv footage. there's no sign of you at all. no indication of you sneaking in and out to bag the highly coveted jewels. "they're good," his partner grumbles, and soonyoung almost scoffs. you're more than good. you're the goddamn best and he helped you get there.

detective jeon knows he should feel some guilt about this. some days, wonwoo thinks he's betraying all his years at the police academy— getting tied up with the very type of person he's supposed to be apprehending. as he buttons up his polo for yet another sting operation, he can only hope for three things. 1) that you have enough sense to stay out of his way, 2) that you know him well enough to know that it's him, whatever setting it may be, and 3) that people believe him when he says he might not have spotted you. wonwoo will blame his bad eyesight as long as you play your cards right.

everyone in the precinct knows detective lee is meticulous and careful. jihoon leaves no room for mistakes and his coordinated (literally) bread crumbs are proof of that. as he all but drags you in to a deserted alleyway, he resists the urge to smirk. the flash of nervousness on your expression doesn't go amiss to him. "what? you don't trust me?" he goads, one eyebrow arched upward. he's done his research. he's pulled all the stops. he knows no one is about to spot either of you here. jihoon makes it clear that if anyone's ever going to catch you for real, it will only ever be him.

— well, i hope i was your favorite crime ✩ detective!reader x thief!maknae line.

when mingyu finds you at your covert meetup spot, his legs nearly give out underneath him. the sheer relief is enough to almost bowl him over. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he breathes as he takes you in his arms. you're upset— of course you are, your apartment is up in flames!— but he's just glad he got to warn you in time. there's only so much he can protect you against. mingyu's not about to tell you to stop being a detective, so he promises you the next best thing. "i'll get them," he mumbles in to your hair as he holds you close. "i'll make them pay, baby."

seokmin could be a perfectly normal guy, the world's most ideal boyfriend, if it weren't for his little hobby. at least that's what he calls his robin hood escapades of stealing from the corporate elite and distributing it to the impoverished. he'll come home tired after his little 'trips', but when you cautiously ask him how it went, he lights up like a christmas tree. "helped so many people today, love," seokmin tells you as he presses kiss after kiss all over your faces. "and it's all 'cause the world's best detective gave me hella luck!"

it's one of minghao's simple joys— your reactions to the spoils in your flat. he never leaves you his loot for extended periods of time. just long enough for you to get antsy, for him to tease you about the monet in your bedroom or the matisse by the entry way. "why don't you keep this one, hm?" he hums as he hugs you from behind. you're staring disapprovingly at the amorsolo he recently nabbed, and minghao resists the urge to take a photo of your face. all of the art he steals pales in comparison to the piece of art in his arms, honestly.

there's a petulant pout on seungkwan's face as he tugs his baseball cap a little more snugly atop his head. this was getting ridiculous! he had needed to change your designated date spot at least thrice in the past month. "wish your team would stop doing their job so well," he grumbles as he plays with his paper straw. a part of him knows you're right. maybe he's getting sloppy. maybe he's better off giving up his thievery and living a regular civilian life. but, unfortunately, there's two things seungkwan can't quite quit— the urge to have more, and you.

the cat and dog chase is vernon's favorite part. he likes to pretend that there are stakes. he revels in throwing you off, in having you think. at least it makes your supposed inability to 'find' him a little more convincing. he's right about one thing, though. at the end of it all, he's going to be sitting cross-legged on your arm chair when you last expect it. or maybe you had expected it, because you were smart that way. "took you long enough," he'll say with a lazy sort of grin. all of the clues and diversions in the world don't change the fact that every single one of vernon's roads lead to you.

chan doesn't like his integrity being questioned. even if it is not a lot of integrity to begin with, he likes to think you know him a lot more than that. he thieves out of necessity, after all, and he has his rule of 'do no harm'. as you grovel for his forgiveness, he feels his pride chipping at the edges. despite his annoyance, he reaches out to hold your hand. he's uncharacteristically quiet for only a moment more before he finds his voice. "i need you to still think i'm a good person," he eventually manages to choke out. chan may live in a life of vices— but you're his one virtue.

[hoshifighting]

Whai kind of camboys would svt be? What content eo of them would offer?

       seventeen as camboys

WARNINGS: smut, public sex, fingering/handjob, sub/dom, degradation, porn, tantric sex, porn asmr, dirty talk, edging, denial, sex toys, porn filters, amateur, sex partners, masturbation, forced orgasm, hand fetish...

seungcheol dom daddy af pov. full-on bdsm content. he’s got the handcuffs, the restraints.. he’s the type to sit back, shirtless, broad shoulders on full display, he’s telling the audience when they’re allowed to touch themselves, making them wait until he gives them the okay. sometimes he’ll tease by stroking himself, not showing his cock on camera. uses a mask too. and prize draw a fan for him to fuck on the channel's birthdays.

jeonghan edging and denial. always with someone new on cameras, he’ll start his stream fully clothed, just smiling that devilish grin, playing with his hair, “oh? you want me to take it off?” but he’ll drag it out for so long, giving lil’ peeks of skin here and there. sometimes he’ll straight up dip after a tease. he moans all breathy, making eye contact with the camera.

joshua hear me out.. asmr & dirty talk. joshua’s got a voice that’ll melt you, so ofc he’d be doing those long, drawn-out sessions where he’s whispering right into your ear, breathing heavy like he’s right next to you. audio experience—close your eyes, and it’s like he’s fuckin’ you with just his voice. “you want me louder? fuck, i’ll give you loud.”

junhui body worship. there for the visuals, his streams are all about him showing off—slow, oiled-up body shots, flexing, maybe even a lil’ self-praise thrown in. “yeah, you like what you see?” it’s basically softcore porn for your eyes, just… him flexing and jerking off like a fuckin’ greek god. “fuck, i make you so wet, don’t i?”

hoshi messy sex, rough sex & overstimulation. everything with hoshi is physical af, like he’s tryna fuck you through the screen. the type that even gets the camera dirty. absolute chaos. every stream is like a workout, sweat dripping down his body while he’s all breathless, flexing between rounds. “fuck, lemme catch my breath,” he’ll say, grinning at the camera, then he’s back at it, moaning loud enough to wake the neighbors.

wonwoo public sex. wonwoo’s always in public spaces, daring his partner to keep quiet while he fucks them somewhere they could get caught. or just masturbating in public. “don’t make a sound, or we’ll get in trouble.” dirty whispers, his hands everywhere while people walk by, totally unaware. pure adrenaline. all of that with him looking around, and them looking at the camera through his glasses.

woozi hands-only content = fingering&handjob masterclass/tutorial. man’s got skills, and he’s showing them off. finger-fucking a silicone cunt or fisting a dildo, or his cock, while he mutters filth under his breath. it’s like a fuckin’ anatomy lesson. he’s so damn precise with it, it almost feels unfair. you know he could make you cum in record time.

minghao tantric sex & roleplay. minghao’s streams are straight-up sensual. artful af. his streams are like some softcore art film, everything in slow motion, dim lights, silk sheets, slow burn. it’s less about the dirty talk and more about the vibe. but when he does speak, it’s smooth, deep, and straight to the point. “you’ve been waiting for this? let’s make it worth your time.” every moan perfectly timed, like he’s orchestrating the whole experience.

mingyu sub humiliation. big puppy turned sub, tied up, begging for more while he gets humiliated. he will moan pout, getting all flustered when called a good boy. the humiliation only turns him on more—loves begging. the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

seokmin sex toy review. mr. too sweet, all polite, “hi, how was your day?” then he gets into it and fuck, you’re blindsided. he’s got this wholesome look, but once he starts testing the toys, he’s so vocal too. moaning, breathless, almost embarrassed at how into it, because he needs to talk about the whole experience, he gets but also loving every second. the type that reads mostly of the streaming comments. “i hope you have a good night.” he’ll flash that sweet smile, by the end of the stream.

seungkwan mean dom, forced orgasm. this man is cruel in the best way. he’s tying someone to a chair, not letting them cum until they’re crying, pleading with him. “aww, baby, you’re all messed up, huh? too bad, i’m not done.” won’t stop until you’re a wreck. every tear is a turn-on for him.

vernon twitter-porn-style, faceless porn. faceless, purple bedroom lights, and it’s just his giant cock on display, no face, no extra fluff. the vids speak for themselves. slow strokes under fuzzy lighting, letting you focus on just the action. simple but devastating. maybe a low grunt or two if you’re lucky.

chan amateur couple content. chan’s a full boyfriend experience—enthusiastic af, experimenting, maybe even bringing in a partner sometimes. he’s loud, whimpering when he gets close, showing off how excited he is to try new things. you’re in it together, and his moans are infectious.

[love-quinn]

— GOOGLE REVIEWS

summary — carmen's never been good with his words, so when he finds you crying in the walk-in, he gets some help to convince you that you're capable of doing your job.

warnings — swearing, general customer-service nightmare stuff. reader is younger than carmen but i pictured/wrote her as being mid-late twenties (25-28 ish) and i think carmy is early 30s so there's an age gap but they're both fully adults, also boss/employee relationship so power imbalance but also nothing happens between them

pairing — carmen berzatto x fem!waitress reader, not established relationship

pronouns — she/her

word count — 1.9k

note — first carmen fic so obligatory warning that he might be OOC, i rlly work on dialogue and shit but i am finding my footing. waitress!reader is kinda special to me i might write some more about them cause they're both so silly if that's something people would be interested in? anyway i hope you enjoy :3

“Stupid… fucking useless- fuck!”

The rush is familiar. The lunch rush, the dinner rush, the fifteen different orders jumbling in your head as you struggle to write it all down in time. Holding nine full glasses of nine different drinks in one hand and struggling to push open the door to run the food out into the dining room. Having to go to Richie and tell him that someone’s card declined so you didn’t have to be the one to tell them. Going into the walk-in and just opening your mouth in a silent scream just to go back out there and finish your shift. 

The rush of cold air on the back of your neck is familiar too. You don’t know what Carmen’s yelling about in the kitchen. You’d just stepped in there to grab food and had caught the tail end of his rant and you’d left with your tray and a million possibilities running through your head.

You’d written something down wrong and now a dish needed to be remade. 

You’d left one of the fridges open and spoiled days worth of food.

You’d given someone something they were allergic to and now you were being sued.

You move through the restaurant on autopilot, avoiding people and chairs and one of Richie’s spitballs sent from behind the counter. You’re so sure that the next time you went back in that kitchen Carmy would be pulling you aside and telling you that you’re fired. 

You deliver the food to the table with a smile and stand back upright to check in with them about that being everything. One of the women sits up a little straighter, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, I ordered a side of the lemon herb dressing?”

You look down at her dressing-less plate. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll be right back with that one, so sorry.”

She waves you off. “You take as long as you need to, honey.”

You practically speed back to the kitchen. Oh, god. You hoped you’d at least get that poor woman her dressing before Carmy fired you. You can’t believe that you managed to screw this up. You’d been lucky to get this job. Carmen had brought you on right when he’d opened up the restaurant and the rest of The Bear had all been super welcoming.

You got on best with Sydney, the two of you were similar in age and she was one of the kindest people you knew. You and Richie also had a nice relationship, you thought he hated you when you first got hired and then he walked out into the alley to have a cigarette, found you crying and punched a guy in the face for you. 

You needed this job. You’d graduated a few years ago and were still struggling to break through in your field, and this job paid the bills and didn’t make you cry every single day. Some days, sure, but not every day. 

You knew you weren’t the best waitress ever, you screwed up and made customers yell at you pretty frequently. You were lucky that Richie liked you enough to stand up for your honor even when you were probably wrong. But you tried your absolute best, you came into work every day and genuinely wanted to help. You respected all of the chefs so much, they all worked so hard, and you wanted to make their lives as easy as possible. 

You go over to Richie and murmur something to him about the dressing, and he takes it to the kitchen. First whatever you’d done to upset Carmy, now this. If he didn’t think you knew how to do your job before, he definitely will now. You glanced over your section. All your tables were eating or had ordered, you’d normally be checking with Sugar when the next reservation was due and triple-checking the table was clean and everything was prepared. 

If you were going to get a walk-in minute in, now would be the best time. Maybe you could do it before Carmy fired you. 

You brush past Tina, not even hearing her concerned call for you. The walk-in was empty and everyone in the kitchen understood. When someone goes into the walk-in with tears in their eyes you leave them alone for as long as you can. 

You can’t believe that you were stupid enough to screw this up. 

The door slams open and you wipe your eyes, expecting it to be Tina needing to actually do her job or Marcus wanting to check on you. It’s Carmen.

“What happened?” He hadn’t been expecting to see you so upset. He’d heard the door slam and wanted to leave it alone, but then Richie had raised his eyebrows, stopping mid-sentence.

“God, I can’t wait to hear about whatever asshole yelled at her this time,” he’d shaken his head, trying to go back to what he’d been talking to Carmy about before. One of the shelves had been knocked and two containers of flour had been completely emptied out onto the floor. They had lids on, lids with clamps on them that were meant to stop that from happening but lo and behold Fak was now mopping up something that was beginning to resemble bread dough with how much water he was trying to use. . 

“Who?” Carmy’s eyes had still been glued to the walk-in. Richie had said your name and Carmen had practically excused himself in the same breath. This time? Did you get yelled at by customers a lot?

You wipe your face, shaking your head. “Sorry, Carm. I guess I just needed a second, I’ll get back out there.”

You take a step forward and he, without meaning to, moves to block the door. You feel your heart rate climb. This was it, he was going to scream at you in the walk-in. “You’re crying.”

You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn’t want this to happen, you didn’t want to be crying in front of your boss. Especially not Carmen. He’s a lot, you know that. You’re not in the kitchen a whole lot, but when you are he’s usually not super happy. He’s a yeller, half of Chicago knows that. But he’s always kind to you, he gave you a job when you were fresh out of college in an unrelated field with no experience because he could tell how much you needed one. You often felt out of place slightly, through no fault of the other staff. They spent all shift in the kitchen together and you spent your entire shift out there in the dining room. You know they’re not having sleepovers and braiding each others’ hair in there, but your work mostly took place in a different room.

But Carmen always makes sure you get Family, that you get your break even if it’s scheduled while it’s busy and that Richie isn’t skimming your tips (he’d never, but Carmen’s caught him with his hands in the jar so often that he isn’t sure anymore). 

It really doesn’t help that he looks like that.

You’re shaking, and he worries for a second that it’s because you’re standing in the freezer, but there are tears welling in your eyes and he doesn’t want to drag you out to his office when you’re so visibly upset. “I’m sorry,” you’re shaking your head. “Please don’t fire me.”

Carmen frowns. “Why would I fire you?”

The words seem to tumblr from your mouth without your permission. “I know I’m not the best waitress, I’m sure you get lots of complaints about me and I forgot that woman’s dressing and I know nothing about kitchens but I’m trying, Carm. I promise, and I’ll do better.” You’re talking so fast that he can barely keep up. He’s still caught up on the first part. 

“Wait, wait,” he holds a hand up to stop you. “Who told you you’re not a good waitress?”

You sniff, tears fully rolling down your cheeks. Carmen knows he’s rough. He’s prone to explosions. Carmen is a hurricane, he wreaks havoc on whatever environment he’s in. He sucks in everyone else’s bullshit, swirls it around and then spits it back out, leaving whatever is left in worse condition than he found it. 

You were calm. You calmed everyone. If an asshole yelled at Carmen, or Sydney or Ebra, Richie wouldn’t even dream of going out there and yelling at the customer. Marcus made you a cake on your birthday and Sydney tries all of her newest recipes on you. 

The eye of the hurricane. 

You’re prattling at this point. “-And that time that I made that guy wait fifteen minutes for a straw, and-”

“Honey,” he doesn’t mean to, that slips out without him meaning. “You’re a great waitress, who gives a shit that guy had to wait for his fucking straw? Who cares, you’re…” he can’t think of a way to talk to you. Great feels too impersonal, wonderful feels too intimate. It’s what you are, though. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re… everyone loves you. We’re lucky to- I’m sure you could get a job at any other restaurant if you wanted. You’re not a bad waitress.”

That’s apparently the wrong thing for him to say. It only makes you cry harder. “Please don’t fire me,” you look pathetic. Crying to your boss while he fires you in the middle of the freezer. 

Carmen doesn’t let that slide for a second longer than he has to. “Why the fuck would I fire you?”

You don’t need to answer. Because I’m a bad waitress. It hangs in the air like the frosty vapor that flies from his mouth every time he takes a breath. 

“I swear to fuck, you’re a big part of the reason people come in here,” he’s not lying. He knows his name carries weight, he knows people hear “Carmen Berzatto’s restaurant” and that brings them in the door a lot of the time. He pulls out his phone, reception is shit but he’s able to google the name of the restaurant. 

He doesn’t have to scroll far down the Google reviews before he finds it. “Food was great, waitress was lovely, made us feel so welcome.” He finds another one. “Waitstaff was on top of it. Two people at surrounding tables smashed glasses and from what I saw one waitress cleaned them both up and still managed to get our appetizers out on time.” 

He goes to find another one but stops, looking back up at you. “You’re not firing me?” You take a step back, dropping your entire body so you’re sitting cross-legged on the floor. He watches you, gauging your reaction, before mirroring you. Your knees are almost touching his. 

“I’d have to be a fucking moron.”

The silence is deafening. 

“Hey,” Carmen can’t bite back the shocked laugh. “That’s… alright. Fine.”

Hearing you laugh makes relief bubbled up inside of him. 

“I should go back out there,” you nod towards the door.

Carmy shakes his head, knee nudging against yours. “Richie’s got it, Marcus can walk desserts, Syd’s on top of everything. No one’s gonna hold it against you if you stay here for a bit.”

He stands, hand brushing your shoulder as he moves towards the door. “Have you eaten today?”

You shake your head and he nods. “I’m gonna make you some pasta, okay? Richie can take over for a bit, you take your time in here I’ll be right outside, honey.” He shuts the door and your shoulder burns where he touched it. 

[neousfics]

Dead Boy Detective Fic Recs (Hurt/Comfort Edition)

All of the following fics are completed :) The lamps are going out by MagicAio1 Words: 9,755 Rating: T Summary: Evil spirits, vengeful spirits. At the time, he didn't yet have the words to explain what had happened to him –even though, without a frame of reference, he could still tell something was wrong– They formed when a ghost felt an awful injustice had befallen them, and few ghosts could claim to have been as wronged by everything as Edwin Payne.

He just hoped the boy from the attic wouldn't put two and two together.

Review: Vengeful Spirit!Edwin is an incredible idea that is beautifully executed in this fic. Edwin being convinced he's evil or tainted in some way because of the way he has been wronged makes for some fantastic angst, and Charles and Crystal loving him anyway makes for some equally fantastic comfort.

Still a Better Love Story by Vamillepudding Words: 18,000 Rating: T Summary: “That about did it,” Edwin says, patting himself down and straightening his bowtie. “Now, if you’re ready, I suggest we find a mirror and-“

“Did you just cough up a flower?” Charles interrupts. Flower, perhaps, is a slight exaggeration. It’s more like a petal, red and incredibly out of place here on the shore.

Edwin clears his throat, but this time no petals follow. “Certainly it’s nothing to worry about.”

Or: Edwin is suffering from a weird curse, but for some reason, he's refusing Charles' help. Charles is trying his best to fix it anyway, but Edwin is being oddly secretive about the whole thing.

Review: I'm a sucker for a good hanahaki AU, and Payneland is made for them. This fic really leans into Edwin not wanting Charles to suffer or feel pressured as a form of angst which works very well.

for my soul he made an offer (and to dust again i fell) by aletterinthenameofsanity Words: 37,687 Rating: M (CW: rape, blackmail, violence) Summary: Monty gets up on the interview stage and it doesn’t matter what the other tributes have to say, because Monty tells Caesar Flickerman that the boy he fell in love with is the very Mentor trying to save him from the Arena.

It’s a dangerous move, but it just might save Monty’s life in the Arena and his body post-Arena. It might just keep him out of the same deal that Esther made for Edwin.

A familiar hand touches Edwin’s wrist backstage. Charles’ hands gently pry Edwin’s fingernails away from the bloody crescents they are carving into his palms.

“It was the only way I could protect him,” Edwin says, trying to plead with Charles to understand, because Edwin has to do anything he can to protect just one of his tributes.

Charles gives him a small, sympathetic smile. “You could’ve told me.”

But Edwin twists his wrist slightly so that Charles isn’t touching him, because he knows where this is going even if Charles does not. He knows whose life lays on the line if this plan fails, and it’s not just Monty’s.

(Years ago, the President made Edwin kneel and told him that Charles’ life was forfeit if Edwin ever disobeyed. And he won't risk that, even if it means breaking both of their hearts.)

Review: One of my absolute favorite DBD fics to date. Hunger Games AUs are notoriously difficult to pull off, but this one knocks the ball out of the park. It focuses on Edwin's experience as District 10 victor and all the brutality that comes with being in the Capitol. This fic had me actually gasping and jumping about.

By Lantern's Light by babyseraphim Words: 13,620 Rating: T Summary: Edwin is terrified. He feels as though he is a wounded deer caught in a bear trap, simply waiting for the hunter to discover his misfortune. The room is dark enough that he cannot make out a single landmark, the deprivation of all sounds playing tricks on his panicked mind. He swears that he hears distant giggles, the sound of grotesque dolls laughing at his renewed torment, but no creature ever makes an appearance. A hysterical laugh threatens to spill past his own lips, accompanied by a sudden rush of tears. He closes his eyes and wills them away, steeling himself for whatever is to come.

The question is not whether Charles will come; the question is when. Until that question is answered, all Edwin can do is endure. --- A heartbreaking story of love and near loss told from three separate perspectives.

Review: Explores Edwin experiencing the effects of trauma and PTSD from his time in hell as well as his unwavering faith in Charles which makes for a beautifully bittersweet experience. Babyseraphim does a great job exploring the hurt/comfort that occurs on all sides of this story.

the taste in your mouth by greenaerie Words: 14,004 Rating: M (CW: non/con elements) Summary: An unexpected attack from Esther shocks the Dead Boy Detective Agency, taking Charles out of commission.

Edwin solves this the only way he can. A good detective does what they must, after all.

Review: This is one of the only fics I've found that explores the idea of Edwin taking the Cat Kings initial offer from a place of risk-assessment/desperation to save his friends, and I love it! I do wish it had a bit more angst w/ Edwin's experience / Charles reaction to it. However, the author does a great job w/ Edwin's characterization.

dulcet tones of broken bones by gremlininthemachine Words: 20,173 Rating: M (CW: suicidal ideation, suicide attempt) Summary: Object: cardboard shoe box, pilfered from Crystal's overflowing wardrobe; location: the London office, on top of their desk; box contents: several labeled cassette tapes enclosed in plastic cases, along with a handwritten note in perfect script; note contents: "Dead Boy Detective Agency - Recorded explanation for my unannounced absence is enclosed. Sincerely yours, Edwin Payne" | Or, the fic where Edwin no longer wants to exist and seeks to make that reality. Inspired by Thirteen Reasons Why, knowledge of series canon not required.

Review: More hurt than comfort, but in the best way possible. This rips your heart out, but it still leaves with a distinctly hopeful note which I highly appreciate.

the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero Words: 45,874 Rating: T Summary: Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.

Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.

XXX “Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”

“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.

“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.

Review: Obsessed with how the ghost lore works in this fic. The author plays into the idea of how a ghosts emotions can affect there form and tackles the question of "How far is too far?" brilliantly. Great characterization!

The Case of the Lovesick Student by amurusk Words: 5,151 Rating: Unrated (CW: child abuse, implied SA) Summary: It's not unusual for Charles to bear the brunt of an attack during cases. Charles is the brawn, after all, and he’s thrived in that role in life and death. He’s a soldier, taking a beating and giving one back. It just feels right, keeping his loved ones safe from harm and trusting them to fix whatever mess they’re in. Not that he faces danger alone, they just think of the big picture while Charles handles the immediate threat. Edwin, Crystal, and Niko have all saved him back multiple times over.

But no one has ever physically stepped between him and pain, taken a hit for him.

Review: Charles finally getting to be the one who's defended is a fic premise that we need more of. I love getting a glimpse into Charles experience of wanting to be protected/vulnerable.

it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then by ethan_elliott Words: 3,658 Rating: T Summary: Ghosts could not feel pain. Or much of anything, really. Except in Hell. A place designed to cause eternal agony, and so levelled the playing field by making humans and supernatural entities equal in their perception. Edwin had been corporeal there, subject to hurt and cold, the hammer of a heart in his chest and the struggle of lungs for breath. It was the one place he felt everything.

Charles had rescued him from Hell the second time. So then why, as Edwin lay in Esther’s torture device helplessly watching Niko disappear from sight, could he feel everything?

Charles had rescued him from Hell the second time. Right?

—

Or, after Niko’s death, Charles has to rescue Edwin from Hell once more, but this time it’s all in Edwin’s mind.

Review: A great one-shot exploring a world where Edwin isn't sure if he really made it out of hell. I honestly wish this was longer because it was excellently written and the premise is awful /pos.

a kingdom never bound by piilu Words: 1,974 Rating: G Summary: “Fuck, Edwin,” Charles breathes. “You could’ve come got me, you know?” Edwin doesn’t know what to say to that. He would be fine, soon. Not really worth bothering anybody. He just shakes his head and curls up tighter. “You’re alright,” Charles says. He wraps an arm around him. Then his face changes, into something like determination, and he pushes Edwin’s head onto his shoulder. “You’re alright, mate.”

Review: Short and sweet fic about Edwin havin' a bit of a panic attack/sensory overload moment.

Cry With Joy At The Depth Of My Love by coloursflyaway Words: 18,028 Rating: T Summary: “Edwin?”, Crystal asks, and Edwin would say something snarky, maybe even something mean, but Charles is wrapped around him like he’ll never let go again, and there are more important matters at hand. “Crystal, what has happened here?”, he asks, and a few seconds later, their new psychic is standing in front of him, trousers splashed with the coffee she dropped, disbelief written across her face. “I was gone for a few hours and now Charles… and the whole building…” He’s not quite sure how to put it, most likely because he still doesn’t understand, and Crystal looks at him like he come back from the Cat King’s lair with an additional head. “Edwin”, she says, slowly, like she is still searching for the words, “what are you talking about? You’ve been gone for six weeks.”

____________

Edwin takes the Cat King up on his initial offer, so instead of a few hours, he is gone for six weeks. Charles isn't good at coping with it.

Review: Charles really goes through it in this one, so if that's what you're looking for than this will be quite fun. The author does a great job at infusing a sense of panic and despair into the story.

here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed by pinklemonades Words: 3,095 Rating: T Summary:

Edwin is in love with his best friend who doesn’t love him back, and the world has not ended. In some ways, he wishes it had.

Edwin deals with the pains of losing a friend while living through the consequences of falling in love with his best friend (aka a Hanahaki Disease post-canon fic).

Review: Very good, short hanahaki AU! Loved the characterization and angst w/ happy ending.

[hey-august]

Your Captain Knows Best

Word count: ~5.2k (hello to the longest one-shot I think I've written) Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, humiliation, degradation, praise, oral - reader receiving, insertion sex, spit as lube, creampie, cum eating A/N: This comes from this wonderful request! Anon, I hope you like! 🩷 Also, shoutout to @be-not-afraid-gg for getting me on the right track with this fic! ✨

Taglist: @rorywritesjunk

“Spit on it.”

You paused mid-swipe, processing what he said. You must have taken too long to think about the three words, because Buggy pressed his boot against your shoulder. Allowing him to ease you back, you shifted your weight to rest more on your feet than your knees, and looked up at your captain.

“I know you heard me. If you don’t want to do that, then you can always lick my boots clean.”

Fuck. How did he always make such disgusting things sound so good?

Reaching up, you brought Buggy’s foot back down to rest your lap. The grit of dried saltwater, gunpowder, and other debris caught on your fingertips. You weren’t going to lick his boots (not this time, at least), but you would gladly do what your captain asked for.

As a frothy glob settled onto the leather and waited for you to spread it around, a crewmember stopped by to review the plans for tonight’s show. A heat crept up your face. They had to have seen you struggle to collect enough saliva to clean the filthy boot. You focused on the task at hand, smearing the liquid with a rag.

“Right, and cut this act. It’s not happening tonight.”

The other pirate repeated your name to confirm the act. A nudge against your lap signaled that it was your turn to join the conversation.

Looking up, you gave a small smile. An understanding smile. 

“The captain knows what’s best.” Another nudge. “Besides, I’m really not that good. I would make everyone else look bad.” Another nudge. “And I don’t want to ruin the crew’s reputation by making a mistake.”

The grin on Buggy’s face grew with each comment you parroted from your training sessions. He had spent countless hours trying to get you to meet your marks and not make obvious fuck-ups, but that attention was a double-edged sword.

Just as his rare praise had your heart pounding, Buggy’s ‘motivational speeches’ during practice sessions made your knees weak. Every pause to keep your balance when your legs threatened to give way, every moment trying to catch your breath, every second lost in your sordid thoughts, everything resulted in errors that you couldn’t hide from a seasoned performer. No matter how subtle. And each blunder was followed with hissed complaints that made your knees shake.

Even when Buggy resorted to other motivational measures, they didn’t have the effect he intended. The burning shame of spending a day with ‘fuck up’ written on the back of your hands, or ‘I make stupid mistakes’ scrawled down your arm was not as strong as the heat that pooled in your body when Buggy held you tight enough to leave bruises while writing those incentives. Even if everyone could see what a failure you were, you felt proud of earning those marks, written by your captain.

Both unfortunately and fortunately for you, Buggy caught on. He noticed the way you were almost too eager to offer your body for his inspiring writings. Dark pupils overtaking the color in your eyes became obvious, despite your attempts to avoid his gaze. The breath you’d hold when he was close and when he touched you, all to hide the sounds that you’d only release when you were alone in bed with a hand between your legs. But an echo of those needy sounds carried through when you’d sigh in relief (or maybe frustration) when he pulled away.

At the end of one particular long pointless practice, Buggy was fed up with your failures. He was irritated with how much time he spent on you, while getting nothing in return. But the moment he snarled out, “attention whore,” your wide-eyed expression and stammers became the bow on a gift that he realized was his to unwrap. 

He tugged at the packaging by asking you if that’s what he should write today. If you wanted him to label you as an ‘attention whore’ for everyone to see. Shit, you couldn’t disagree with the truth. You couldn’t lie. Not at this moment. You felt yourself unravel, feeling exposed as you nodded rapidly and rushed to comment about how the captain knows best.

Boosted by the compliment, Buggy also had your costume changed. The stack of folded clothing was handed over at the end of a meeting. What was once more form fitting and flexible was replaced with items that were baggy and woven - ultimately more constricting than what you previously wore. You waited until the crew began to disperse before approaching Buggy. 

“Captain, I think I got the wrong costume.”

A quick glance was all he needed to confirm. “No, that’s the right one. Go change.”

“But Captain-”

“Do you think you know better than me?” The sharp question slipped from a tight grin. Buggy tilted his head and waited for an answer.

The question caught the attention of the few pirates in the area, whose conversations shifted in the wake of this discussion. Subtly wasn’t a strength among the crew, but eavesdropping apparently was.

“No, it’s just- It’s not what I’m used to wearing,” you explained nervously.

“Oh, you prefer your old costume?” The smile on Buggy’s face finally reached his eyes with a glint.

You nodded.

“So you like showing off your body.” It wasn’t a question. “See, I think that’s why you keep fucking up. You like the attention. You want people to watch you.”

A familiar heat was coursing through your body, already setting your face alight. Yes, you liked the attention, but from only one particular person. The person who leaned closer to continue his monologue. 

Buggy hooked a finger under your chin and continued, “I’m right, aren’t I? Or are you such a greedy attention whore that you need to have your body on display all the time?”

Buggy’s low voice stoked the fire that was consuming you, combining the flames of embarrassment and desire into a raging inferno.

“No, Captain.” The words came out in a whisper as light as ash.

“Remember what you said - Your captain knows what’s best.” Moving his hand from beneath your chin, Buggy cupped your cheek. He winked when you nodded against his touch and broke away with a pat that bordered on a light smack.

You were pulled back from those memories when a second boot dropped into your lap, the heel digging into your leg.

“Spit.”

---

The show went off without any issues. Mostly. You stayed backstage doing simple tasks to help each act progress smoothly. Making sure there was fresh water for the performers, cutting lemons for the demanding divas, and grabbing accessories and props that were forgotten until the last minute. You also stood in the wings, ready to compliment and praise those who came off stage with pissed off expressions, spewing anger about the lack of excitement from the captive audience.

Although you weren’t performing, you wore the new costume. At this point it was more of a daily uniform, due to the disapproving looks Buggy would shoot your way whenever you wore something else. Any substitutions or adjustments were guaranteed to be met with raised eyebrows, sneers, and shakes of his head that would cause his blue hair to dance with disappointment. But the worst was the silent treatment. The moments his eyes would glaze when they drifted past you, when he willfully ignored your presence like a petulant child. But the spark in his eyes made up for all the trade-offs that accompanied your new uniform. 

As you ran laps to hit different dressing rooms, the green room, various prop bins, plus the kitchen to refill water pitchers and chop citrus fruits, a heat started building up under your clothes. A big number on set created a lull backstage, which you took as a moment to find an empty corner, lean against a storage barrel, and relax. 

You tugged at your woven top to let fresh air waft in, but the humid feeling returned the moment you stopped. In need of something longer lasting, you started to unbutton the shirt. Freeing two of the shell buttons was just enough for better circulation. 

“That’s not how you’re supposed to dress.” The remark was flat, weighed down by disappointment. 

Shit.

You expected Buggy to be clowning around and schmoozing with the audience, not skulking around backstage like you.

“I just- I needed to cool down,” you explained, pulling at the chest of your shirt as if the demonstration would excuse the faux pas.

Buggy watched, his eyes lingering on your glistening chest. You felt bare, like the two buttons revealed far too much. Reaching up to fix yet another mistake, you were stopped by a pair of disembodied gloved hands. The tight grip rolled your knuckles against each other and large thumbs dug until the meat of your palms.

“By exposing yourself?”

The accusation struck a sweaty nerve. “It’s not a lot! It’s just two buttons,” you spat. “I’m still dressed. It’s not like you can actually see anything.”

“Ahh, so you do want to be seen? You like when people stare at you? I mean, I figured that’s why you’re such a fuck up on stage. I didn’t know stripping was an option, though. We could work that into the next show.”

“No! That’s not-”

“I thought I knew best,” Buggy cut you off with a sing-song voice.

The swell of muffled music seeping into the back areas matched the anxiety surging in your body. Thoughts of taking off your clothes, piece by piece, while Buggy watched, danced in your mind. They traipsed and tumbled to the truth - that you did want to be seen. That you liked it when he stared at you. When Buggy paid attention to you. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“...you do. You’re right, Captain. I wasn’t wearing my costume correctly, I’m sorry.” Hopefully this acknowledgement would distract him from the other accurate observations.

Maybe it was a trick in the dim lighting, but it looked like Buggy’s eyes sparkled at your response.

“Good, I’m right. So you’ll be in the next show. We could end with a flashy number…” Buggy’s hands released yours and started gesturing in the air as he turned away with his grandiose planning.

“Wait!” You lunged forwards to pull back the one-sided agreement. Desperate fingertips grazed against his heavy coat but were unable to take hold.

“Hm, you have a good point,” Buggy said, splitting and spinning his top half to face you. “Maybe we should wait. You might be terrible at this too. I know - we’ll have an audition.”

With that, he twirled and reassembled in time with a crescendo of music that ended with a lion’s roar and strained applause.

“My room, after the show.”

---

You stood in the middle of the captain’s quarters on an island of discarded clothes and covered only in goosebumps. The muffled sounds of a raging afterparty weren’t enough to cover your shallow breathing or the scratch of pen on paper as Buggy wrote down notes about the night’s show. He hardly spared you a look after telling you to get undressed. Although you removed the clothes slowly, your half-assed, untalented striptease went unnoticed. Eventually you stood in the same spot, entirely exposed.

Every little shift you made to adjust to the rolling waves, or to keep your thoughts anchored, went unnoticed. You were able to watch Buggy from the corner of your eye and see how immersed he was in the paperwork.

His bushy brows furrowed as he chewed on the thumb of his glove in between scribbles. Papers were shuffled and unnecessary pages slammed back on the desk. This wasn’t performative - he was actually working. And it was captivating. Both because he was deeply invested in the work, but also because you didn’t know how to interrupt. Or if you even should.

That possibility was taken away from you by a flurry of knocks on the wooden door. Your heart sped up to match the pace of each rap from the unknown visitor. Was the door locked? What if they came in and saw you like this? You turned to stare at Buggy, who still didn’t look at you.

“What?” Buggy groaned loudly, throwing his head to the ceiling and leaning back in his chair.

“Captain, we’re running low on refreshments.” The words slurred their way through the door.

“Okay, and…?” The question trailed off into a pause. A heavy pause that rang in your head.

The doorknob rattled. And turned. It wasn’t fucking locked. He didn’t lock the fucking door. There wasn’t much you could do to improve this predicament. You could hold your clothes to your body and try to preserve some of your dignity. Then again, how much was left at this point? Hiding behind furniture was a terrible option - you weren’t going to play a messed up version of naked hide-and-seek.

Faster than you could consider other options, a gloved hand whizzed forwards and held the door shut. The few centimeters it creaked open were pushed back and met with a drunken grunt.

“I’m busy,” Buggy said loudly and slowly, his voice soaked with annoyance. “Exactly what do you need me for?”

“We’re running out of drinks, cap’n.”

“You already said that.” Buggy rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Can-” The sloshed pirate must have pressed his lips against the edge of the door before continuing. “Can we open more barrels?”

The request slid around the door, entering the room with clarity that sent anxiety and adrenaline surging through your body. Although you knew he was on the other side of the door, knowing someone else was so close sent tingles down the back of your head and spine before reaching around to prick your bare chest. As the conversation continued without you, the turbulent waves gave way to softer swells and your thoughts started to drift. Sure, you were still being ignored and you were still naked, but there was a strange feeling of safety.  

The discussion ended with a threat of bathroom duty if anything more than four barrels and a case of wine was opened. The door lock clicked and stillness returned to the room. Your mind came back to your body, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the condition it was in. Of the growing tension and sensitivity. Of the warmth that started to collect down low. Each sensation was amplified when you realized that you were no longer being ignored.

Buggy remained at his desk, head cocked to the side and resting on a gloved hand. The aqua color of his eyes poured over your exposed skin, ice cold and boiling hot at the same time.

“I think we’re just going to strip you of all performance duties. It wasn’t flashy enough,” he finally said.

“You barely even watched! You weren’t paying attention to m-” Shit. The words started flowing before you could even register what order they were in and you slapped your mouth shut too late.

The grin on Buggy’s face nearly put his painted smile to shame. “Say that again. Tell me what you really wanted to say.”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to put your clothes back on, go back to your room, curl up, and pretend none of this happened.

“C’mon, I want to hear you tell your captain that he’s right,” Buggy coaxed through that devastating smile. How could he make those words sound so soft and so dangerous? So enticing?

“I wanted-”

“I can’t hear you.”

Your hand fell from your mouth at the flat interruption

“I wanted you to pay attention to me, Captain.”

He nodded along to your words and into the silence after you finished speaking. You weren’t done.

“I…I like it.”

“Because?” Buggy pushed you to keep going, rather than continuing to drag each word from your pretty lips. Lips that you licked nervously before giving Buggy what he wanted. 

“Because I’m an attention whore,” you confessed.

“Again.”

“I’m an attention whore.” 

Fuck, yes you were. Everytime he made you say these words, you felt like you were stripping again - removing your sense of self and exposing who you really were inside. Someone who would do near anything in hopes of capturing his eyes and his mind. Anything he asked of you, no matter how ridiculous or humiliating, just to hear your name on his tongue.

“Louder.”

Buggy was a cat who finally caught a scrumptious canary, holding it between his paws. He was enjoying this game. And so were you, but you were ready to take it to the next level and this was your chance.

“I’m your whore, Captain!”

For once, the smarmy look on Buggy’s face flickered. Eyebrows raised slightly in surprise and the corners of his smile fell before transforming into a wolfish grin. Leaning back in his chair, the captain beckoned you closer with a tantalizing curl of two fingers.

As you walked forwards, Buggy reclined and spread his legs into an indecently dominant pose. Another twitch from his finger told you to lower yourself. You were more than glad to kneel before your captain. Trapped between his body heat and your desire, you barely noticed the rough wood floor digging into your bare knees.

A gloved hand floated over and cupped your chin. The leather from his performance gloves was rich and velvety. Softening into his touch, you felt a twinge of worry that you might melt completely. Meeting his watchful gaze, the worry dissipated. Now you wanted nothing more than to dissolve, to fall apart because of him.

The hold was replaced with a nudge against your lips. The silent request quickly changed into a demand as two fingers slid into your barely open mouth. You accepted the intrusion, dropping your jaw to accommodate the thick digits and welcome them into the back of your throat. With your bottom lip resting against the leather on the palm of his hand, Buggy’s fingers began to wiggle and flex, becoming acquainted with your insides and testing your limits. 

You were given a moment of respite, just enough time to fill your lungs with fresh air, before Buggy began pumping his hand into your waiting mouth. Your tongue lolled out with the movement, turning into an escape route for the excess drool that couldn’t soak into his glove. Whenever your eyebrows furrowed a little too tightly, you were given the briefest second to catch your breath. 

Eventually satisfied with fingerfucking your throat, Buggy recalled his hand. You could both see the discoloration from your spit. Buggy flexed his fingers to admire the handiwork before removing his gloves. Then he unbuckled his belt, the sound of which nearly had you drooling again. You wiped your mouth, just in case.

“Undo my pants. You need to see what you do to me,” Buggy said in a low voice.

The lunge of your greedy hands was stopped by an addendum.

“Ah-ah, no hands.” Buggy licked his painted lips and pursed them into a little kiss that fluttered down to you and settled in your stomach.

Oh, that’s what he meant. Dropping your hands, you leaned forwards and used your nose to push away the hem of his shirt. It wasn’t slippery material, but you struggled to move it enough to reach the hardware on his pants. Buggy took pity (or maybe he was too horny to watch you struggle for long) and pulled up his shirt, exposing a patch of blue hair trailing down to the treasure you were desperate to reach.

Another hand found a resting spot on the back of your head. It followed your movement as you twisted and turned, tilted and tugged, bit and nibbled. Sometimes his hold would work against you, causing you to slip and bump into his erection. Each press against his twitching member gave you motivation to keep trying until you were finally able to unbutton his pants and pull at them enough to undo the zipper.

“Good job,” Buggy groaned, delighted that you made it this far.

He pressed your face against his cock, which was still hidden beneath his underwear. Buggy made sure to rub your lips against the wet spot of precum. It was a little salty and more than delicious. You wanted more. Needed more. You wrapped your lips around his head and sucked on the soggy fabric, surprising Buggy. His fingers tightened in your hair as a strained groan escaped his mouth.

Spurred by the reaction, you licked along the underside of his clothed erection. You moved slowly and let your spit pave the way. Every pulsing throb that pressed against your tongue whetted your appetite. It added to the hunger in your body and soul until you were aching, so painfully full of desire that had no escape. Regretfully, you pulled back. The hand on the back of your head shook slightly at the break in contact.

“What? Are you done?” he asked between breaths.

You shook your head, mesmerized. Buggy’s eyes were hazy. Fogged up and unfocused. His face was sprinkled with a pink blush and beads of sweat. His chest was heaving. And he looked so damn good.

“Use your words, fuck. W-why’d you stop?” Fingers twitched in your hair.

“More… I want more. Please, I need y-!!” 

The rushing stream was stalled by a yelp when Buggy’s hands hoisted you on top of his desk. From your new height, you watched your captain lower himself before you, claiming the space between your legs as his. Suddenly, his mouth was on you. His tongue touching you. Fingers digging into your thighs.

Everything left you in that moment. Every thought, the air in your chest, the ability to hold yourself upright, all of it taken away in one fell swoop. Worried about falling backwards and losing sight of Buggy indulging in a feast, you reached for him. Your hands fumbled, unable to find purchase with his hat or that damn bandana. Knocking both out of the way, your fingers found what they needed in his blue hair. A growl rumbled through his throat and ripped through your body at the desperation in your grip. 

Buggy came at you with increased ferocity. With a wildness that had you crying out in excitement and fear. That damn mouth of his wasn’t just talented at turning phrases. Fuck. You felt like Buggy would swallow you down in one gulp if he could. 

He ate and ate, consuming you like he had been consuming your thoughts for as long as you’ve been on the ship. With each lick, nibble, suck, reverberating groan, and mumbled nothings against your skin, you responded. Your toes curled. Your legs shook. Your fingers tightened and released. His name poured from your lips on repeat, becoming a jumble of syllables in your ears.

You could see stars, they were within reach. Swollen and ready to explode. But before they could shower you in their delicious warmth, they disappeared.

“Is that the best you can do?” The question wasn’t said with lips against your skin. You looked down, bleary eyed and confused. “I’m giving you all of this attention and you’re quieter than a mouse’s fart.”

What the fuck. Your head was swirling, mourning the loss of those sweet stars. His name lingered on your tongue, the full-bodied taste leaving behind an emptiness. What more could he want?

“Are you afraid everyone will hear you? Don’t you want to show me what a good job I’m doing?”

Your eyes fluttered, the stars returning to the edge of your vision. You nodded, promising to do a better job. Promising that you wouldn’t fuck up, like you usually do.

Buggy stood up and rushed to pull down his pants, clanging his belt against the wooden desk in his excitement. His pants and underwear caught around his knees, but he didn’t move to shimmy them lower. Now the focus was on his thick cock, dripping with precum that begged to be spread and smeared. 

It looked so heavy. So fucking thick and heavy. Buggy’s smile twitched at your reaction, caught between embarrassment and pride.

“C’mere, show me what a whore you are,” Buggy said, interrupting your assessment. “Show me you can take it.”

Your movement forwards was aided by his bare hands on your ass. Rough calluses on soft skin. Fingers digging into supple flesh. Buggy’s touch was searing hot, etching his hold on your body so that you felt it even when he let go. He lined himself up, stopping just as his body kissed your entrance. A passionate kiss that he continued with his lips against yours.

“Spit on it,” he murmured around your bottom lip, which was trapped between his teeth.

Buggy just barely missed getting headbutted as you pitched forwards, more impatient than eager. You wanted to see his cock again. You wanted to coat it. To feel it. To have it inside. You wanted it so badly. Gifting him a mouthful to use as lubricant, you hoped that he would give you what you craved in return.

And he did. You watched as Buggy pushed inside, slowly. So tantalizingly slow. It seemed impossible that he’d fit, especially if he wasn’t going to shove it in. But it did. Your body stretched to accommodate Buggy’s wonderfully thick cock. You whined and hissed through the intrusion, relishing the pleasure and pain he brought.

“It- it fits,” you gasped.

“Uh-huh, I knew you could do it. Such a good fucking whore for your captain.” Buggy paused with his hips slotted against yours, shoulders rising and falling with each restrained breath he took. “A tight one…m’gonna change that.”

Your eyes fluttered and rolled as he pulled back and began fucking you as promised. You felt entirely at his mercy, caged by his body and stretched to your limit. Your nails dragged across his clothed shoulders, catching on ripples in the fabric, rather than scratching his skin and muscles. Tight muscles. All of Buggy was hard and tight.

“I can take it,” you urged. “Please, just fuck me. Use me.” 

The steady tempo turned into a staccato at your words. “That’s it, that’s my good whore,” Buggy said, his voice dripping with pleasure. “Keep that fucking mouth open, I need to hear you take it.”

He slammed into you, little lights exploding behind your eyelids. A little taste of the stars that you knew were coming. Slack jawed, you let your moans fall in time with his thrusts. Moans and cries of delight echoed off of him as you clung loosely to his body. You barely heard Buggy’s demand before his teeth were digging into your shoulder. A loud shout met his demand and raised the level of the sounds that fell from your mouth.

Fingers in your hair tilted your head to the side. “Louder. Don’t tell me you’re afraid they’ll hear you being fucked by your captain,” Buggy growled against your ear. A bite on your earlobe brought another increase in volume and tears to your eyes.

You shook your head and called out his name. Another nip. Another nibble. You cried out louder. Your hands began shaking. You pleaded, crying Buggy’s name on repeat against his shoulder. Arms wrapped around your back and held you closer, pressing you harder against his mean thrusts.

“C’mon, you can do it…”

That was it. That was all you needed. Even if you couldn’t put on a good performance for the circus, you certainly could do this. You could take this. You could take a rough fuck from your captain. You could cry his name to the heavens, to the stars that would explode with you. 

Moans stretched into screams that scratched your throat. His name stretched into high-pitched cries that hurt your ears. Incoherent pleas took all your breath and made your lips numb. Yet, with all the cacophony you created, all you could hear was your captain’s sweet, sweet praise.

“Come on my cock like a good whore,” he rasped, clearly struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

“I can-I can do i- I’m cu-” The words were choked out of you. The immense pressure that built up was too much, but it kept growing, taking all the space left in your body. Carrying you away until everything exploded. Until starlight and shimmers filled your vision. 

For a moment, you were gone. You hardly existed. Everything wiped clean. And then you were back in your body. Back to feeling all sorts of sinful things. Your body was still struggling against all the pressure that had built up. Trying but failing to squeeze against Buggy’s thick intrusion, which was still ravaging your body. The bright cries that ripped through you were now edging into dry sobs of pleasure.

Your performance was finally rewarded. Buggy’s own sounds were strangled as he came, depositing a hot load of cum deep in your body. He fucked through each pulsing shot, your tension milking him until his balls were drained and you were full. Uncomfortably full.

Buggy’s orgasm ended with a groaning sigh as he nearly collapsed against you. One arm was still holding you close, while the other rested on the desk, propping you both up.

The room felt stuffy, yet empty. Full of everything that just happened, but the sounds of passion were replaced with the dim soundtrack of the ship’s party. After a few minutes reveling in this atmosphere, Buggy peeled himself off your sticky body. He raked a hand through his hair, dragging the loose strands stuck to his forehead back into place. A casual movement that was so… He winced as your body clenched around him, an appreciation for the view.

“So needy,” he said through a crooked smile. A weary but pleased grin.

Arms on your knees kept your legs spread, as Buggy pulled out. Disconnected hands were right there, thumbs on either side of your used hole to keep it open. Gaping. Drooling white cum. 

A shiver tore through your body at the feeling of his heavy load sliding down and out. A shiver that was frozen in place when a finger scooped up some and brought it to your lips. A moan traded places with the offering, exiting your mouth as Buggy’s coated finger entered. The mingled taste was wonderful, so fucking tasty. And his cum was such a soothing texture on your aching throat.

---

You woke up feeling almost hungover - not because of alcohol though. Your body throbbed and your head was spinning, but it was pleasant. A weight on your chest kept you pinned to the bed. Buggy was haphazardly draped across your body, his head and arm resting on your torso, and a leg hooked around yours. He was still sound asleep. Closed eyes tracked his dreams and his snoring breath skated across your skin. 

Gently, you brought over an arm to push some hair from his face. He looked so beautiful in the moonlight. The snores quieted for a moment.  Then they were replaced by a heavy sigh and a tighter embrace. Tucking his arm around you more and curling his leg to hug yours, Buggy snuggled against you and fell back into his deep slumber. As his breaths crinkled back into snores, they carried you back to sleep.

A sweet, comforting sleep, well-earned after a performance that you didn’t fuck up for once. All because your captain knows best.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 52 - Finale

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber, Steve Kemp

Note: 🕊️

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

“Alright, one o’clock,” Amber says as she walks into the room. She sets down her phone and you pull the pillow over the tablet to hide it. “Is that enough time?” 

“Sure,” you answer. You don’t have much choice. It has to be done and the sooner, the better. You want it to be done with. All of it. 

As much as you want everything to go back to how it was, you know that even this can’t make it so. Things will always be different. You will always be different. 

“I’m just going to give Curtis a call and check in.” She explains. 

“Right,” you shrug and smile at her. 

You wait for her to leave before you move the cushion. You’re nervous about the appointment. It’s going to hurt probably. You don’t think anything can hurt as much as everything that’s happened in the last few months. 

You tap the screen to wake it up. The library of videos opens and you scroll through. You spent have the night wavering between the delete button and just smashing the tablet. For whatever reason, you can’t do either. 

You close the cover again, still caught in indecision. Once you’ve dealt with the baby, you’ll be able to think. You get up and take the tablet with you to your room. You dress in your old clothes; a pair of faded jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. 

It’s strange being in that place again. You look around at all those things you almost forgot. Amber didn’t change a single piece of it. Your chest sinks as your eyes cling to the window. What did she think when she found you gone? You feel horrid for hurting her like that. 

You sit and pull on socks then rub together your frigid hands. The world around you is both hazy and vivid. You feel every second roll by and yet the colours and the sounds are all so distant. Today is the day. 

You hide the tablet under your pillow and go back out. Amber is on the couch. Her shoulders are almost to her ears. She’s as anxious as you are. 

“Curtis can’t drive us. He’s caught up helping out his buddy.” She explains. 

“Oh, that’s okay,” you shrug. 

“We’ll take my car. He fixed the heating issue so it should hold out,” she says, flicking her thumb against her phone nervously. 

You go to her and sit, “it’ll be okay.” 

She sniffs and sits forward. You feel her look at you, “are you?” 

“I think?” You clutch your knees. “I don’t know. I just feel... sure. Certain.” 

“That’s good. But you know, it’s entirely your choice.” 

“I know and that’s why I’m sure,” you force a tense smile. 

Her phone buzzes. She squints at the screen as she reads. “He said he’ll bring us some dinner. He should be done with Jake by then.” 

You nod and your eyes explore the room. She’s silent, still watching. 

“So much is different,” you murmur. “You know Jake too?” 

“Sure. He helped us. When you sent that message. He found you.” She says. 

You look at her, “found me?” 

“I know. Sneaky.” 

“No, it’s... good.” You lower your head. 

You linger in the lull. It’s not uncomfortable. It’s calm. Patient. There’s a rattle at the window. A strange tapping. You look over and Amber follows the noise too. 

There’s a dove outside looking in. The frost in the window has warmed to condensation in the last days. You stare at its grey feathers as it coos and quorks its head. 

“Spring is close,” Amber says. “The birds are coming back.” 

You stare, hypnotised by the creature. A second dove lands beside it. You read that they often stay in pairs. 

“Well, about an hour and we’ll head out,” Amber gets up. “You need anything, bub?” 

“No, I’m fine,” you assure her and lean back, “I’m just going to close my eyes.” 

She hums and goes into the kitchen. You listen to her as you relax into the couch. You drag your hands up to your stomach. Almost there. 

🕊️

As Amber drives, your eyes catch in the side mirror. You give a start and sit up against the seat belt. You shake off the fright as the grey car behind you slows with the flow of traffic. No, you’re imagining things. 

You lean your arm on the door and hold your head. Amber idles in the clog of the street and taps her fingers on the steering wheel. She looks ahead and clucks. You’re ahead of schedule. You couldn’t stay still and it’s a good thing you left early. 

She continues on in the slog and flips her blinker. She takes a side street away from the dense main way. Before she can circle around the block, a pair of headlights flash in the mirror. You don’t get more than a glimpse of their glare. She pulls through the back entry beside the dumpsters and curls around the front of the clinic. 

“Oof, finally here,” she shifts into park. “You think with the weather getting nicer, more people would walk.” 

“Yeah,” you agree dully. 

Your ears are buzzing. You look over your shoulder at the clinic then back to the fence ahead of you. You exhale. 

“Bub,” Amber says as she shuts off the engine. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready,” you say. “Just... something...” 

Your voice trails off as another car pulls up from the back of the lot. You turn and your chest knots at the familiar grill and emblem. It can’t be. It’s just a coincidence. 

The SUV pulls in next to you and you look up at their tinted window. His silhouette alone is enough to assure you. You reach over and grab Amber’s wrist as she unlocks the door. 

“No, lock them!” You cry out as Andy open’s his car door. 

“Bubba--” She swallows her protest and the locks thunk. “Shit!” 

Andy’s treads his the ground and he slams the door. He looks around, staring at the clinic, then scowls. He bends to look through the passenger window at you. 

“Open up.” He demands. 

“Fuck off!” Amber shoves her hand across you and flips him the finger. “Don’t make me call the police again.” 

“You fucking liar!” He snarls as he hits the window, his voice muffled by the barrier, “I knew you were hiding her.” 

“I said go the fuck away,” she leans over. 

You watch Andy in horror. You shrink down as you tremble. You’re not ready for this. Not for him. 

“Dove, Dove,” his gaze falls and meets yours, “hey, sweetie, let’s talk. I calmed down. Please--” 

You close your eyes and shake your head. 

“She doesn’t want to talk,” Amber snips. 

“Dove, you can’t--” he pauses. “Whatever you’re doing here, don’t do it. Please. We can figure this out. I know what this place is--” 

You shake your head and drone, “no, no, no, no, no, no...” 

“Go away!” Amber barks again and slaps the window. She pulls back and grabs her phone. “I’m calling Officer Jones. How many reports is that, Andrew?” 

“Wait...” you gulp as you open your eyes and grab her arm. “Wait...”t 

“Bub, please--” 

You squeeze and let her go, “he’s my problem. Let me deal with him.” 

“You can’t. He's dangerous. He’ll hurt you--” 

“I don’t care. He can’t hurt me. Not anymore.” You undo your seat belt and take a breath.  

She says your name as you reach for the lock and slide it up. The door opens from the other side. Amber latches on as you try to get out. You tug and pull away. 

You get out and close the door. Andy crowds you between the cars, his hands on your shoulders at once, sliding up to cradle your face. 

“Sweetie, sweetie, I was so afraid--” 

You grasp his wrists and lean away as he tries to kiss you. 

“Don’t touch me,” you yanks his arms down and shove him. He’s big and strong. You almost forgot that. Still, he does as you tell him. His eyes are bloodshot and his face pale. 

“Honey,” he begs. 

“No.” 

“What-- what are you doing here?” He rasps and looks over again. “You’re-- you’re-- you have to be. It’s mine, isn’t it?” 

You shake your head. 

“It’s mine. It has to be! I’m the only one. The only one!” He grabs your arms again, “Please, honey, I can take care of you. Both of you. You and the baby.” 

“No!” You exclaim and hit his chest.  

Another car door snaps shut and Amber’s shadow comes around the trunk. You look at her and give her a look. She stops, worry woven above her brow. You face Andy again and push until he stops touching you.  

“It’s not yours and even if it was, I wouldn’t want it. Just like I never wanted you,” you sneer. 

“Dove, you don’t mean--” 

“I mean it,” you hiss. “I hate you. I always hated you but I was afraid.” You hit his stomach and he staggers back. “You’re a bully. That’s all you are.” 

“No, I love you--” 

“No, you don’t!” You holler and stomp your foot. You point at him, “you don’t love anyone. You can’t. I’m not the broken one. You are!” 

“Dove--” he stands straight and reaches for you. You slap his hand away. 

“Don’t touch me. I’m done with you. I don’t want anything to do with you!” 

“You don’t have a choice,” he snarls, his eyes darkening as his expression hardens. “That’s my baby, I have rights--” 

He lunges for you and you cry out. He doesn’t get to you as Amber launches herself between you and tackles him against his car. She’s smaller than him but that doesn’t stop her. She bites his hand as he tries to grab her neck and she jabs two fingers into his ribs. He wheezes and recoils. 

She pushes away and stands between you and him. She keeps you behind her as she stands tall. 

“Try it again.” 

“You can’t do this. You can’t keep me away from her. You can’t kill my child--” 

“It’s not yours!” You shout and peek around Amber. You squeeze her arm and step up next to her. “It’s Dr. Kemp’s. Your friend. The one who helped you hurt me.” 

“No, I didn’t--” he begins. 

“You did. I have proof. I have the videos.” 

“What videos?” He spits. 

“I changed the password,” you say. “You can’t get rid of them now.” 

“No, you’re lying. There’s no--” 

“I have them all. Every single one.” Your eyes overflow. “It’s your name on the account, not mine. The police can figure it out, can’t they?” 

He looks as if he’s been hit again. The lines in his forehead deepens and his mouths slits to a thin line. He glares at you. The way that used to make you do whatever he wanted. Not this time. 

“It’s over. I’m done with you. I never even wanted you, Andy,” you breathe. “No one could ever want you, not even me.” 

He winces and his lips part but nothing comes out. 

“And if you ever come near me or my sister again,” you twine your fingers through Amber’s and cling to her. “I will send those videos to the police.” 

He stares, eyes searching, pleading. You won’t fall for it. He can make himself look pathetic but you don’t believe him. Not anymore. 

He waits. You say nothing. He sniffs and pulls his shoulders back. His jaw grits and his eyes flash. 

“You’re just the same as you always were. Fucked in the head,” he grits and goes to turn. Before he can, you swing your foot up. It’s a low blow, cheap, but you don’t care.  

Your toes meet the front of his pants and he grunts. He staggers and falls to his knees, clutching his crotch as he shudders. You get closer as Amber keeps a hold on your hand. You bend and lower your voice as you get close to Andy’s ear. 

“I never came for you,” you whisper. 

He gurgles and you back up. There’s nothing else to say. You turn and tug on Amber. You walk away without looking back. 

As you get to the door of the clinic, the sun comes out from behind the clouds and beams against the white brick. A cheep tweaks in your ear and you turn to see the sparrows bustling in the barren branches of the bushes. They send up a chatter that fills the air. You can hear it all. You can see it all. Feel it all. 

You keep your grip tight on Amber and reach for the door with your other hand, ready to open it and all the other doors that come after it. You don’t want to hide anymore. You want to fly. 

🕊️🕊️🕊️

I just want to thank everyone who has followed along on Dove's journey. It was bumpy and took a while, and it definitely took a lot out of me (in a good way). I hope you enjoyed this.

Until next time 💗

[b1xi]

───𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘐𝘋───ハイキュー!!

Haikyuu(ハイキュー!!)x fem!reader

Word count: 5860

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

With your recent addition to Karasuno's volleyball team, you had been trying to catch up on the sport’s basics. You’d watched a few games on TV, but it was hard to stay awake until the end; genuine interest in volleyball still hadn’t really taken root for you.

Most of your time in the gym consisted of supporting Hinata, shielding him from Kageyama’s frustrated outbursts whenever he made a mistake. Usually, you’d spend those hours sitting on the floor, reviewing sheet music or doodling in your notebook. On rare occasions, Hinata would insist on teaching you the basics of serving and receiving, which always ended in laughter and failed attempts to learn.

"So, what exactly do you do in the club?" asked Nayuta, plopping down beside you. Both of you watched Hinata and Kageyama train on the outdoor court under the shade of a large tree. Comfortable in your company, your friend pulled out a couple of candies from her bag, offering one to you without waiting for a reply.

"For now, absolutely nothing," you admitted with a sigh that clearly showed your growing boredom. The past few days had felt like an endless loop of watching the two rookies practice over and over to prepare for Saturday's match against Daichi.

"Is there at least anyone handsome enough to make spending your afternoons there worthwhile?" Nayuta joked, casting a critical look at the scene before biting into a piece of chocolate and offering you another. "Because if that’s the case, maybe I should join too," she added with a wink.

"Is there really any appeal in watching sweaty teenagers run after a ball?" you replied, letting yourself be drawn into the humor of the conversation while savoring the chocolate.

"Try to think of them like puppies," she suggested, straightening up to adjust her jacket. Her laughter grew louder as she watched Hinata doing everything he could to retrieve the ball, which had gotten stuck in one of the tree branches. Both of you burst into laughter when, after much effort, the boy finally managed to get it down, only for Kageyama to throw the ball at him as he turned around, accidentally hitting him in the face.

"See?" Nayuta remarked, stifling her laughter. "Just like clumsy puppies.”

You both spent a while lost in your own little bubble, chatting about boys, sharing gossip, and trading funny stories from your former schools. When the alarm on Nayuta's watch went off, you both snapped back to reality. "Wow, I have to get back home," Nayuta sighed as she stood up, brushing dirt off her skirt and tucking a few dark strands of hair behind her ear before picking up her bag.

"Alright, I’m off. Are you staying a bit longer, or do you want me to walk you out?" she offered with a smile. You thanked her but shook your head; Hinata had asked you to wait for him that day so you could walk home together.

You said goodbye to Nayuta, and once she left, you walked over to where Hinata and Kageyama were still practicing with boundless energy. "Hinata, it’s getting dark. Don’t you think it’s time to go?" you commented, using your fingers to tidy up a bit of your messy hair and adjusting the Pochacco hair clip you wore.

"Just one more time!" Hinata replied, his focus entirely on the ball Kageyama had just tossed to him. Just as the redhead was about to receive it, a hand extended over his head and caught the ball in mid-air.

Both of them turned around, surprised, to see two students who looked like they were first or second years. One of them was impressively tall, even taller than Kageyama.

"So here you were, training outside... you must be the first-years who caused trouble on the first day," the blonde boy commented confidently as he held the ball.

"Give it back!" demanded Hinata, stretching to reach it, but the blonde easily raised his arm, making it nearly impossible for the short redhead to get to it.

"Little kids should go home," the blonde said with a mocking smile, as if the three of them were little more than a joke. Visibly angered, Hinata clenched his fists and raised his voice.

"And who do you think you are?" Hinata retorted, annoyed by the newcomers' attitude.

"They’re the other first-years who joined the team," Kageyama commented, not hiding his irritation as he stared at them.

"First-years?" you couldn't help but exclaim, observing in astonishment the height of both boys. Your gaze lingered on the blonde, who was especially tall. "But... they’re so tall…" you murmured, more to yourself than to anyone else.

Kageyama, challenging the two newcomers with his gaze, asked directly, "How tall are you?"

"Tsukki is 1.88 meters," the freckled boy accompanying the blonde chimed in, speaking with evident enthusiasm. "And soon, he'll be 1.90 meters."

"Tsukki?" You wondered if that was a nickname since the blonde didn’t seem like someone with such a sweet-sounding name.

"Why are you bragging, Yamaguchi?" grumbled the blonde boy—apparently Tsukki—with a tone that revealed a mix of annoyance and resignation, as if this situation repeated itself often.

"Sorry, Tsukki," murmured the freckled boy, lowering his gaze. There was something endearing about his attitude that made you smile; he seemed genuinely friendly.

"You're Kageyama from Kitagawa Daiichi, right?" continued the blonde boy, momentarily ignoring his friend. "What’s someone like you doing at Karasuno?" His tone had a hint of mockery, but it also made it clear that Kageyama was known. You wondered how famous or talented he must be for everyone to know his name.

Hinata, unable to stand being ignored, raised his voice again, interrupting the conversation. "Hey, we’re not going to lose on Saturday! Got that?" His determination was admirable, though it seemed the blonde didn’t share his enthusiasm.

Tsukki, as his friend called him, cast a scrutinizing glance at Hinata before speaking, his tone filled with indifference. "I see. Maybe it’s important to you guys, but I couldn’t care less. Winning or losing doesn’t matter to me, so if you need it, I could… hold back," he commented nonchalantly, spinning the ball in his hands.

Hold back? Who did this guy think he was? You were surprised by his attitude, and apparently, you weren’t the only one.

"Whether you hold back or not, I’ll beat you anyway," replied Kageyama, looking at him with a coldness that conveyed his challenge.

"Say it in plural!" corrected Hinata, furious at the way Kageyama took all the responsibility solely for himself. Hinata’s response provoked a slight, sardonic laugh from Tsukki.

"Such confidence… no wonder they call you the King," the blonde scoffed, his words laced with an evident venom that didn’t go unnoticed.

The mention of the nickname made Kageyama’s expression harden. "Don’t call me that," he muttered, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and contained shame.

You were briefly distracted from the confrontation when you felt a gaze fixed on you. Turning, you noticed it was Yamaguchi, who was watching his friend and then you, as if evaluating the situation. Realizing you’d noticed him, he quickly looked away, turning his attention back to Tsukki and Kageyama.

The tension reached a critical point when Kageyama, with a scowl, grabbed Tsukki by the collar of his shirt, his eyes filled with hatred and defiance. Watching the scene, you felt it was time to step in before things got out of hand.

"Alright, that’s enough," you interrupted firmly, approaching Kageyama. You looked at him seriously, and your eyes met his, which slowly softened before he looked away from Tsukki. Finally, he let go and stepped back, still clearly upset.

“Let’s go,” said Kageyama, addressing you and Hinata, who nodded without saying a word. As you gathered your things and turned to leave, you looked back at Tsukki one last time. He was taller than you had initially noticed, and you had to look up to meet his eyes. You gave him a disapproving look before following your teammates.

“Are you going to run away? Seems like the King isn’t so important after all,” Tsukki commented provocatively, showing no limits to his boldness. His comment drew a threatening look from both you and Hinata, but he simply ignored the reaction. “Maybe I’ll beat you this Saturday,” he added casually, tossing the ball into the air once more. It was the chance Hinata had been waiting for; he sprang forward and caught the ball mid-air.

“Enough with the ‘King’ thing,” Hinata replied in an unusually serious tone. “I’m here too, and on Saturday, I’m going to spike right over you,” he promised, Defending Kageyama for the first time. It seemed the redhead was determined to face him, though a bit of nervousness made him step back slightly under the blonde’s challenging gaze. “W-what, you want to fight?”

Tsukki let out a snort, this time with a more neutral than sarcastic tone. “It’s not that serious,” he replied. “It’s just a club. Let’s have some fun.”

"It's not just a club!" Hinata replied.

“It is what it is,” the blonde said, shrugging and starting to walk away with his friend. However, he stopped when Hinata asked their names.

“Kei Tsukishima, class 1-4,” he finally responded.

“And I’m Tadashi Yamaguchi,” added his companion, introducing himself with a shy smile and a kind voice.

Tsukishima looked at Kageyama and then at Hinata. “From today, we’re teammates, but until Saturday… we’re rivals. I’m looking forward to seeing those famous ‘King’ sets.” With that, he turned around and started walking away, while Yamaguchi kindly said goodbye with a “See you.”

Before Hinata could respond, you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him in the opposite direction. “Enough, it’s time to go,” you insisted, tired of the confrontation and anticipating the scolding you might get if you were late. Ignoring Hinata’s complaints, you started walking at a brisk pace, noticing that Kageyama was silently following you as well.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and, in a firm tone, told him, “And you… I want you to crush them on Saturday.” The intensity of your words seemed to surprise him; his gaze met yours, and after a moment of reflection, he nodded with renewed determination. Without another word, he looked ahead, a new spark in his eyes, ready to face the challenge.

“Ahhh,” you yawned as you snuggled deeper into the softness of your sheets. You sank into the comfort of your bed, enjoying the luxury of sleeping in. But suddenly, something clicked in your mind. Wait a minute… it’s Saturday! The match!

You jumped up, tossing the sheets aside, and rushed to get dressed. You picked out a pink athletic outfit, the one your mom had bought you when you told her you’d joined the volleyball club.

You raced down the stairs, ready to dash out the door toward the school. However, just as you were crossing the doorway, you felt a tug on your bag that made you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you saw your dad, who was looking at you with a mischievous smile while he let go of your bag and ruffled your hair affectionately.

“And where do you think you’re going so early on a Saturday?” he asked, the smile never leaving his face.

“Dad, I have practice,” you lied, since you barely even touched the ball when you were at the gym. You glanced at the clock out of the corner of your eye, feeling the time slip away.

“Since when are you interested in sports?” he asked, watching you curiously. “You never play with me.”

“Because you don’t play either,” you replied impatiently, still keeping an eye on the clock. “Can I go now? I’m going to be late!”

He nodded with a resigned smile and, with a finger on your chest, added in a protective tone, “Be careful. And don’t let those kids bother you. If anyone crosses the line, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Yes, yes, bye!” you shouted, running down the street to get to school as quickly as possible.

When you reached the doors of the gym, you paused for a moment to catch your breath. You had run almost the entire way, and the wind had left your hair a mess. After quickly fixing it, you walked into the gym and noticed the game had already started. You went over to Sugawara, who greeted you with a warm smile. You looked at the scoreboard: Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s team was leading by 16 points over Hinata and Kageyama’s team. It made you frown a little, though you were glad you’d made it in time for the first set.

“Y/N! Hi, I thought you weren’t going to make it,” Sugawara greeted you enthusiastically when he noticed you’d arrived. He looked at your athletic outfit and smiled, “Nice outfit.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you were sure you’d turned as red as a tomato. “T-Thanks,” you stammered, trying to calm yourself. It’s just a compliment, you reminded yourself. People give compliments all the time.

You both turned your attention back to the game as the whistle sounded for the next serve. It was Daichi’s turn, and he made a flawless serve. Kageyama prepared to set the ball perfectly to Hinata, and the redhead, with determination, hit the ball hard, managing to dodge Tsukishima’s block.

“Well done!” you shouted excitedly, unable to contain yourself. Hinata’s eyes lit up when he saw you, and for a brief moment, you noticed something different in Kageyama’s usually cold expression. Happiness? Satisfaction? You weren’t sure, but it seemed like he was sharing the same excitement.

“Y/N!” Hinata exclaimed, raising his hand proudly. “It touched my hand! I can’t believe it!” He stared at his hand in amazement, as if the contact with the ball had been something almost miraculous. Then, he motioned for you to take a closer look at his hand.

You laughed, caught up in his enthusiasm, and nodded. “You’re doing it, Hinata! Keep it up.”

Soon, everyone in the gym realized something incredible: Hinata hadn’t actually seen the ball when he made that impressive spike; he had placed complete trust in Kageyama, who had set the ball with amazing precision, right into his hand. Though they tried to replicate that move several times, they couldn’t quite achieve the same perfection, leaving everyone wondering if it had been a coincidence or just a lucky strike. The score was now 15 to 22; they were still behind, but the team spirit remained high.

You approached Hinata, who was rubbing the side of his face after getting hit by the ball again. You laughed a little at his embarrassed expression, especially when Kiyoko came over to check if he was okay, making him noticeably nervous.

“What’s so funny?” protested Hinata, flustered with a blush on his cheeks. “That’s the second time it’s hit me in the face!” He turned to Kageyama, frowning. “Did you do it on purpose? We’re on the same team, you know!” But Kageyama just ignored him, returning to his position without a word.

The whistle blew again, and both teams readied themselves. Yamaguchi took his position to serve, and Tanaka received the ball smoothly, passing it quickly to Kageyama. With quick and calculated movements, Kageyama prepared to set it up for Hinata. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi anticipated the move and readied themselves to block, but Hinata, agile and strategic, moved to the open side of the court just before the ball reached him. Bam! Another clean, successful spike.

Now they were in the second set, and the score was tied. You glanced over at Tsukishima, who seemed to be losing patience with his opponents' performance. When he noticed your gaze, you lifted your chin proudly and gave him your best “how do you like that?” expression. Tsukishima merely rolled his eyes in response, while Yamaguchi, noticing the exchange, let out a quiet laugh.

“Well done!” you praised Kageyama and Hinata after they managed to pull off their impressive spike once again, which they were starting to master. Sugawara, Ennoshita, and Kinoshita exchanged smiles, clearly inspired by your enthusiasm and competitive spirit.

Sugawara ruffled your hair affectionately. “You’re quite competitive,” he commented with a kind smile.

The score had moved forward, now 21 for Kageyama’s team and 25 for Tsukishima’s. Both teams looked visibly exhausted.

You went over to Hinata and Kageyama, giving Hinata a friendly pat on the back. He smiled when he saw you. “Y/N, did you see that? I’m amazing!” he exclaimed, overflowing with energy, hands on his hips and chest puffed out proudly.

“You’re getting better,” you congratulated him, handing him a water bottle. Hinata accepted it happily and took a drink, satisfied. Then, you turned to Kageyama. “Kageyama, well done.”

The dark-haired boy looked slightly surprised by your compliment, his gaze drifting away for a moment, avoiding direct eye contact. His response came in an almost inaudible murmur. “Thanks.”

He turned his back to you and Hinata, seeming nervous—a subtle shift in his posture that didn’t escape your notice.

“What’s up with you, Kageyama? What’s wrong?” Hinata asked with a mischievous smile, noticing his sudden reaction. Hinata’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he observed his teammate’s reddening ears. “Did you get nervous? Aw, can’t handle a compliment from a girl?” he teased, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a playful look.

“Shut up!” growled Kageyama, but his tone lacked its usual authority. He still wouldn’t turn around, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Suddenly, Hinata’s attention shifted to Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, who were on their side of the court. With a quick gesture, he linked his arm with yours and pulled you toward them. “Kageyama, come on,” Hinata called, signaling for them to follow. “Tsukishima,” he continued determinedly, calling out to the tall, blond boy with glasses. He extended his hand toward him.

“What?” Tsukishima asked, looking at Hinata’s outstretched hand with evident confusion.

“We should shake hands before and after the match, even though we didn’t do it before,” Hinata explained, his tone a bit more serious but still carrying his characteristic positive energy. “Besides, we’re teammates now, even if I’m not too happy about it.”

Tsukishima didn’t seem too convinced by the idea. He stood rigid, his gaze drifting away, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion.

“Come on, didn’t you know?” Hinata insisted, glancing behind him at Daichi, who was talking with Sugawara and Tanaka. “They’ll kick you off if you don’t have team spirit,” he added, waving his hand in front of Tsukishima like it was the answer to all his problems.

Tsukishima didn’t make a single move. “The reason they were kicked out was because they disobeyed the captain,” he explained in an annoyed tone, his gaze fixed on the three of you. “You guys started arguing and pulled the vice principal’s toupee off.” He cast a judgmental look at the three of you, as if your behavior had been completely out of place—and it was.

“F-forget those details,” Hinata retorted, biting his lip to keep calm while trying to maintain his composure. “Just shake my hand!” This was his final attempt before lunging at Tsukishima, though it was clear it wouldn’t be that easy.

Hinata tried to grab the blond’s hand, but Tsukishima, quicker and more agile, kept dodging from side to side to avoid the contact. The scene turned into a comedic spectacle, with Hinata chasing Tsukishima around while you and Kageyama watched without much interest.

“Y/N, help me!” Hinata shouted, visibly frustrated at not being able to accomplish his goal.

“Tsk, no way,” you replied, crossing your arms with an amused smile. You couldn’t help but enjoy the absurdity of the situation. Kageyama, for his part, simply observed the ridiculous spectacle without moving.

Finally, Hinata achieved the impossible: he managed to shake Tsukishima’s hand. The victory was fleeting, however, as Tsukishima looked at him with an expression of pure disgust, as if he’d just touched something completely unhygienic.

“Are you okay, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked, a mix of concern and horror on his face as he observed his friend’s reaction. Tsukishima didn’t reply, but his expression said it all, showing a blend of disdain and revulsion from having touched Hinata’s hand.

“Tsukishima!” Daichi’s firm voice interrupted the scene. The captain approached to speak privately with the blond, and you decided to take a few steps back, giving them space.

Meanwhile, Hinata and Kageyama pulled out a couple of crumpled papers from their pockets. “Captain!” Hinata exclaimed, holding both forms out to Daichi, who examined them closely. A slight jolt of panic hit you—was there something you were supposed to submit as well? You didn’t remember turning in anything like that.

“Shimizu!” Daichi called to the team manager, holding the forms in his hand. “The stuff arrived, right?” he asked, and Kiyoko nodded with a small smile.

“What stuff?” Hinata asked, visibly intrigued. Kiyoko approached, carrying a large box, which she carefully placed on the ground and opened. Inside, perfectly folded and ready to wear, were the Karasuno volleyball team jackets. Hinata let out a gasp of amazement and picked up a jacket, looking at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“They should fit well,” Kiyoko commented as the new team members looked at their jackets with admiration. “But let me know if you need any adjustments,” she added before picking up the box and stepping away.

Tanaka, Sugawara, and you looked at the four new members in awe. “Oh, it looks great on you,” Sugawara complimented Hinata as he donned the jacket and showed it off proudly, as if wearing it was an honor in itself.

Daichi took a step forward, his voice filled with emotion. “From now on, we’re the Karasuno volleyball team,” he announced, his words brimming with pride. Then, with a quick countdown, all the team members shouted in unison, “Welcome!”

“Thank you!” the new members replied.

Hinata and Kageyama returned to the court, as energetic as ever. It seemed impossible that those two would ever tire. You looked around and noticed everyone was deep in conversation, forming lively little groups. You sighed and, feeling a small pang of loneliness, sat in a corner not too far from the others and turned on your PSP, seeking distraction.

It didn’t take long before a shadow fell over you, interrupting your game. You frowned, thinking it was Hinata again. “Now what…?” you muttered, looking up in mild annoyance, ready to face the redhead’s hyperactivity. But instead of Hinata, you found yourself looking at the imposing figure of Tsukishima, who eyed you with his typical critical expression and those honey-colored eyes that seemed to scrutinize every detail.

“Do you need something?” you asked, surprised by his presence but keeping your composure.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, maintaining that air of superiority as he rested his hands on his hips. “What exactly are you doing here?” he asked, not bothering to soften his tone.

You blinked, slightly taken aback. Right, you hadn’t had the chance to formally introduce yourself. “I’m the assistant coach,” you answered with a slight shrug, trying to sound casual.

“We don’t have a coach,” Tsukishima replied, raising an eyebrow again and leaning down a bit to get a better look at you. “Do you even know how to play, or are you just here to babysit the carrot-top?”

You scowled, resisting the urge to let his tone get to you. “Of course, I know how to play, b-but I’m not very good,” you admitted, standing your ground. “And, by the way, don’t call Hinata that.”

Tsukishima barely smirked, a sarcastic smile reflecting his usual provocative attitude. “Then prove it,” he challenged suddenly, not breaking eye contact.

“Prove what?” You looked at him, puzzled.

“That you know how to play,” he replied, crossing his arms with a defiant air. “Unless you want to take back your claim.”

The challenge in his eyes was evident, and you had no intention of backing down. You felt Yamaguchi watching with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, probably hoping the situation wouldn't escalate. Still, you didn't retreat. "Alright," you said with determination, "if that's what it takes to convince you."

Tsukishima stepped back a couple of paces, his lips curving into a nearly satisfied smile. Yamaguchi, who was still close by, gave you a friendlier smile and offered some encouraging words. "You don't have to do it. Tsukki sometimes just enjoys teasing," he said apologetically, trying to soften the challenge his friend had issued.

With a slight smile, you nodded to Yamaguchi before walking to the center of the court and picking up one of the balls lying on the ground. "It's fine," you replied, feeling a mix of nerves and determination as you prepared yourself.

"Make a serve. I'll receive it," called Tsukishima from a safe distance, his voice tinged with a mocking tone. "If you can, of course," he added, with a challenging smile.

You took a deep breath, trying not to let the pressure get to you. Come on, Y/N, you can do this, you reminded yourself. After all, Hinata had taught you some basic moves, and you'd practiced enough to trust in a solid serve.

You weighed the ball in your hands, tossing it into the air a few times as you gathered momentum. With a sigh, you went for a low serve, focusing on directing the ball with strength and precision towards Tsukishima. But just as the ball sailed across the court, the gym door burst open, drawing everyone's attention, including Tsukishima’s.

The impact was inevitable: the ball hit Tsukishima square in the face, who, surprised and with no time to react, fell to the ground from the force of the hit. A dull sound echoed in the gym, followed by a collective gasp of surprise.

"Tsukki!" exclaimed Yamaguchi, visibly worried, running over to his friend to make sure he was okay.

“Oh no…” you whispered, bringing your hands to your mouth as you took in the scene. "Shit!" you added, unable to hold back your reaction.

"Are you... are you alright?" You quickly approached Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, your voice rushed and filled with concern as you looked at the reddish mark on his cheek where the ball had hit. Tsukishima scowled, rubbing the side of his face, which still seemed sore from the blow. You tried not to laugh, although the scene was somewhat amusing in retrospect.

Noticing his glasses lying nearby, you hurried to pick them up. "Here you go," you murmured, quickly wiping the lenses with the edge of your sweatshirt. Then you knelt beside him and gently placed them back on the bridge of his nose. However, the glasses weren’t quite aligned, slipping slightly and giving him an unexpectedly adorable look.

"Sorry... really. I didn't mean to, you know..." you murmured, trying to sound sincere. Still, you couldn’t deny that a small part of you found some satisfaction in the incident, though, of course, you weren’t about to admit it aloud.

Tsukishima snorted, crossing his arms and regaining his usual air of superiority. "You could start by improving your aim if you actually know how to play," he commented, his tone dry, though not without a hint of irony.

You tried to lighten the moment with a smile. "Well, at least it was a strong serve," you joked, though Tsukishima didn’t seem to find it funny; instead, he frowned, crossing his arms.

"It was a pathetic serve," he replied coldly, looking at you as if you were entirely responsible for the situation.

"Not my fault you couldn’t receive a beginner’s serve," you defended yourself firmly. "Why were you distracted?"

"And you were distracted too," Tsukishima retorted, his tone no less challenging.

"Guys, guys, come on, it was just an accident," Yamaguchi interjected with a nervous smile, trying to mediate in the argument.

Tsukishima, however, cut him off immediately. "Shut up, Yamaguchi."

"Hey, don’t tell him to shut up!" you protested, shooting Tsukishima a reproachful look. There was something in his arrogant attitude that pushed you to challenge him, and you weren’t about to let him belittle his own friend.

Before Tsukishima could respond, Tanaka called out to the three of you from the other side of the court. "Hey, you three, come here!" His voice had its usual energy, and when you turned, you realized that the rest of the team had already gathered around Takeda-sensei, who was waiting to give instructions.

"We’ll have a match after classes," Takeda-sensei explained calmly, waiting for everyone to pay attention. "It'll be after school, so there’s only one game. We'll rent a bus for transportation, so don’t be late. Understood?" The players nodded in unison, and the excitement among the new members was palpable.

After practice ended, you packed up your things and made sure to leave the gym in order along with the others. With your bag slung over your shoulder, you walked home leisurely, enjoying the cool evening air.

As you reached your front door, you began searching your pocket for the keys, when you heard a familiar voice.

"Hi!" It was Hinata, who was passing by quickly on his bike, greeting you with a big smile. "Bye!" he shouted as he disappeared down the street, his energy as contagious as ever. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head.

“Where the hell is he!?” Nayuta growled, pacing back and forth in front of your desk in the classroom. You had never seen her this angry before, and her footsteps echoed with a frantic rhythm. The three of you were supposed to split the science project to make it easier: each person would do a part, and then you would all put it together at school. But now, the only part missing was Hinata’s, and the redhead still hadn’t shown up.

“I swear to God, if he doesn’t show up, I…” Nayuta left the threat unfinished, but her hands, clenched as if trying to crush something, made the message clear. The frustration on her face made you bite back a smile; it wasn’t wise to joke around in this moment.

“Come on, Yuyu, maybe he just didn’t have time to do it,” you tried to smooth things over, hoping to calm her down. However, Nayuta shot you a look as sharp as her feline eyes, clearly unconvinced.

“Don’t justify him, Y/N,” she snapped, pointing her finger accusingly at you before returning to check her phone for the fifth time. “This is exactly why we shouldn’t trust short people,” she sighed in exasperation, as if she had just uncovered the root of all the problems.

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. Her logic was absurd, considering that Nayuta was the same height as Hinata. However, you decided to let the comment slide and shift tactics.

“What if we go look for him?” you suggested. “Maybe something came up, and he needs help.”

“Where do you think that restless butt is?” Nayuta asked, crossing her arms and looking at you skeptically.

“Well, maybe in the gym…” you started to say, but then remembered something. You had overheard some of the guys talking about using the club room to change and leave their things. “I think I know where they might be.”

You stood up and grabbed Nayuta’s hand, guiding her purposefully through the hallways. As you walked through the school, the familiarity of the surroundings made Nayuta relax her grip slightly, though she remained on edge.

Eventually, you spotted a small building with several rooms inside. “Are first-year students allowed to be here?” Nayuta asked, giving you a concerned look while holding your hand a bit tighter.

“I think so. Plus, we’re just going to talk to Hinata; it’ll only be a minute,” you reassured her with a smile. You started climbing the stairs to the second floor, and Nayuta followed closely behind.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Nayuta murmured, her eyes scanning the identical doors along the hallway.

Without hesitation, you knocked on the door and called softly, “Hinata? Are you in there?”

Immediately, there was a commotion behind the door, and above everything, you heard the voice of the redhead exclaiming, “Ah, it’s her!” His words were accompanied by the sounds of things falling and hurried footsteps. It seemed like he was clinging to the shelf, as if preparing for a battle. Tanaka, with disbelief in his tone, chimed in. “What’s wrong with you, man? It’s just Y/N.”

“It’s not Y/N… it’s Nayuta…” Hinata murmured, unaware that his words were heard on the other side.

Nayuta’s expression hardened, and before you could stop her, she called out firmly, “Come out already, Shoyo! We can hear you perfectly. Stop being a coward.” Her threatening tone hinted that her patience was quickly running out. She was on the verge of completely losing her cool when, instinctively, you covered her mouth with your hand, trying to keep the situation from escalating.

"Eh… what Nayuta meant," you let out a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension, "is that we just want to discuss the science project. It's nothing serious, I promise." You tried to sound as calm and friendly as possible, hoping that would help calm the redhead down.

On the other side of the door, you heard Hinata's desperate mumbling. “Kageyama, go out and tell them I’m not here!”

“Not a chance. If you want to dodge them, do it yourself,” came Kageyama’s reply, as he put on his sports jacket with a resigned expression.

After a few tense seconds of waiting, the door finally opened, and Hinata shot out like a bolt of lightning, one hand clutching his stomach and his face filled with panic. Before you could react, Nayuta tried to rush after him, clearly intent on making him pay for being late.

“Let me go so I can give him a lesson!” she growled, trying to free herself from your grip. You held her firmly around the waist, doing your best to contain her outburst.

“Come on, Yuyu,” you whispered in a conciliatory tone, though you struggled to hold back a laugh at her determination. “We’re friends; we have to get along... and love each other, right?” Even though you said it as calmly as you could, the strength Nayuta was putting up made it a challenge to keep her still.

“It’ll just be a little smack!” she insisted, her voice full of indignation. Nayuta’s dark hair swung, brushing against your face and partially blocking your vision. Amidst nervous laughter and struggling, you both turned around, and your eyes fell on the partially open door in front of you.

Then, both of you froze.

The sound of laughter and murmurs disappeared as you saw, to your surprise and horror, that the club room was occupied by several of the guys from the team… at various stages of changing clothes. Daichi, with his back to you, shirtless and looking incredulous, turned around upon seeing you. Tanaka, equally surprised, was in the middle of pulling up his pants, freezing when he noticed your presence.

Almost instinctively, you covered Nayuta’s eyes while quickly closing your own, taking a few awkward steps back. “Sorry!” you managed to exclaim, your voice breaking with nerves and embarrassment. Nayuta, still frozen in place, stopped resisting, and between murmurs and apologies, both of you stepped away from the door with your faces completely flushed.

As you backed away with hurried apologies, you heard the guys’ restrained laughter, along with a “Next time, knock!” said amid chuckles. Finally, you managed to exit the building, exchanging surprised and embarrassed glances that quickly turned into laughter.

[muddyorbsblr]

feels like mine pt2

See my full list of works here!

Summary: On the worst day of his life, Tom receives an offer impossible to refuse: getting you back. Well, almost…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: major character death; possibly a wonky timeline (the math wasn't and still isn't mathing in my pea brain); probably a wonky depiction of soulmates [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: sad meow meow hours

Three days ago…

After a good dozen takes on the same sequence from a variety of angles, Tom finally had a moment to himself, giving his assistant a signal to retrieve his phone so that he could give you a call. You'd been apart for nearly a month at this point and he missed you terribly.

The only remote relief he'd get was hearing your voice as often as he possibly could. You'd tell him all about the plot of the book you were reviewing, or what details you could divulge on the shows you were working on. Considering that you often had ironclad NDAs for them these days, you'd usually tell him of the former as it was less of a minefield.

Once his assistant handed over his phone, however, his heart caught in his throat at the screen that greeted him. Over a dozen missed calls from an unknown number in the last few hours, preceded by a text message from you.

Tom, sweetie, I'm in the hospital. It's no big deal, just a little road accident, don't worry about me. I might not be able to answer your calls for a while, since they're taking me in for surgery in a few minutes. I love you. Always.

With trembling hands, Tom returned the call from the unknown number, his heart so heavy in his chest it was a struggle to even breathe right. The next words felt as if they passed through him in a blur; he could only pick up on bits and pieces from the other end.

Drunk driver. T-bone. Internal bleeding.

And the worst words of all. I'm deeply sorry for your loss.

He took the soonest possible flight back to London, everything around him seemed a blur until he finally got to the home you two shared, his and your mothers waiting for him inside. That was the moment he finally broke, dropping to his knees and breaking out into sobs, the horrible reality cruelly sinking in once he saw their completely distraught faces.

They took your body to be cremated that day, allowing him a few minutes to say goodbye before they began the process. Your mother advised him against looking into the body bag, insisting that he wouldn't want that as his last memory of you, that he should at least get to live on with his final memory of your face being that of the loving, beaming wife he knew and loved.

The next time that you came out, it was in an urn, weighing just about the same as a baby, and he cradled you as such. For the entire car ride back to your home until he settled you in his study.

"We didn't have enough time," he said through his tears, stroking the golden urn as if he was stroking your hair. "We should have had more time."

At that moment, a voice pierced the solemn silence of your home. "I'm sorry for your loss, Thomas."

When Tom turned to see who the unwelcome visitor was, he couldn't find any words to say except one. "Impossible."

"Quite possible, really," Loki shot back, stepping into the study with palms open in a sign to tell your husband that the god meant no harm. "Anything's possible in this multiverse, I'm slowly coming to find. And in that realm of possibility, I have something to offer you."

"All due respect, I want nothing that you can give," Tom declared sullenly. "You can't give me my wife back."

"And what if I said that I can? Well, in a way."

That suddenly got Tom's full attention, placing an arm in front of your urn as if he was still trying to protect you. As if that could really do anything against a god. "I'm listening," he said cautiously.

"I've recently learnt that in every universe, there is an iteration or an echo of me, and a corresponding iteration of Y/N. In this universe, Thomas, you are my echo. In every universe, Y/N's echo is destined to fall in love with mine, and in almost every universe, that love is reciprocated," the god began to explain, creating an illusion with a wave of his hand of your wedding day.

It was nearly enough to mesmerize Tom completely, almost losing himself in the memory. In happier times. "Hang on, what do you mean almost every universe?"

"Ah, yes. That part. Well, you see, Thomas…in the universes where my echo takes on your form, world-famous actor, hordes of adoring men and women and everyone in between at his feet, getting an entire crowd to fall silent with a finger to his lips--"

"I get it, I get it, can we keep it moving, please?"

"Right then. In the universes where my echo is…Tom Hiddleston, while it is a guarantee that Y/N will love Tom, it is not a guarantee that Tom will love Y/N. There are universes where Tom barely even knows of her existence. She's in the hordes, a part of her soul knowing that she's doing exactly what she was designed to do, but confused as to why she feels as if a part of her is missing somehow."

"That's--" Tom's words choked off in a sob at the back of his throat, a new type of sadness overcoming him as he imagined a world where he never even knew you. Never loved you. "That's miserable."

"It is," the god agreed. "My offer to you is that I can reach into one of these universes where her love for you is unreturned, and I can bring her to you. Fulfill what her heart yearns for, and in return, you have an echo of your wife. Have the time that was stolen from you so harshly. So unfairly."

Tom considered the offer carefully, only moments passing before he had his first question. "What of her universe? Her family?"

"In these worlds she doesn't have much of one. For the most part she's alone, and has learnt to fend for herself in lieu of a support system." Both their hearts broke for those iterations of you, the thought of you taking on the world without anyone by your side was nearly enough to bring both men to their knees. "If you were to accept, then it would be a simple enough spell with barely any ripple effect to nullify her existence and memories of her from the minds of those still around to remember her."

Every part of him wanted to jump at the offer. To accept it without thinking. Getting another chance to spend a life with you? There should have been no hesitation at all. Except…

"If she's anything like my Y/N, she'll be smart enough to ask questions. Why her life's different from what she knew before. Whose remains are in the urn in my study. What do I tell her then?"

"That is entirely up to you." Loki's answer was not in the least bit comforting. "You can conjure up a story that she will be inclined to believe, or you can tell her the truth. Alternatively, I can offer you an easier way out of this as well. Surrender your late wife's remains to me and I can keep her somewhere safe. That way you can live on with creating your new life with this echo of your Y/N without being as tethered to your past; after all, if you wish to start this life with her, then she deserves to have you love her to the fullest extent you can afford. She deserves not to be loved half-heartedly by someone still clinging to the ghosts of his past."

Much as he agreed completely with the sentiment, Tom found himself hesitating at the thought of simply surrendering your ashes to the god. He knew what the trade would mean, and that he in turn would have more time with a version of you; however, a part of him still protested.

For would this not be a dishonor to your memory? To simply let go of you and the time he'd gotten to know you and fall in love with you in exchange for something that might not even live up to his memory of you?

And on the other hand, he thought about the version of you that was doomed to live your life with an unrequited love. The knowledge that your souls were only partly intertwined in that world had him hurt for that iteration of you. You did deserve to be loved with the same magnitude that you gave love. And if he could give that to you, then the only way that he could do so was to accept that this wouldn't be a life wherein he picked up where you and he left off. He would be building something new entirely.

It was a near impossible choice. But ultimately he knew which way he would go.

Loki's offer meant more time with you. It meant having you again. Even if it was an echo of you. At its core, it was still you.

Right?

"What would you do?" he asked the god.

"If I lost my Y/N? I'd turn the multiverse inside out to have her again. Rearrange the Realms itself until she was by my side." He paced the room as he continued his answer. "Any version of her." A smirk tugged at the onyx-haired man's mouth before tilting up his chin, assuming an all-knowing stance. "But seeing as you are an echo of me, you already knew that this was the answer, didn't you? You simply needed to hear it outside of your own thoughts. Solidify your decision."

Tom could only nod, the depth of the situation still tremendously lost on him. All he knew was that if he did this, he would have you back.

He placed your urn on the desk, pushing it towards Loki. "What do I do now?"

The god held out his hand. "Firstly, your wife's ring. I'll need it when I find an echo of her that leads her life all alone. It will be her first tie to this universe. Your universe." Tom placed your wedding ring into his hand. "Secondly, you grieve. You've suffered a great loss, and what I am to do is not a replacement of your late wife, and should not be treated as such. Mourn your loss for the next day. Then after tomorrow night, go about your morning routinely, as if she were alive."

Tom nodded again. "How will I know that it worked?"

Loki only shrugged at the actor. "Have faith. Faith that you'll see your wife again the morning after next."

With that, the god disappeared, taking both your remains and your wedding ring with him. And Tom heeded the advice, crawling into the bed you shared with him, all the memories of the life you built together and the possibilities of the life you were yet to build overwhelming him. The weight of your lost future all but crushing his heart into a million pieces.

And he wept himself to sleep.

Today…

On the second morning after Loki's offer, Tom rose from your shared bed and listened to the god's instructions from days before. He laced his shoes up, went on his usual morning run, changed into business casual attire as if he was scheduled for a Zoom call in a short while, and proceeded to start preparing a breakfast for two.

Once he had coffee brewing, he started preparing a lavish breakfast for you two to share, starting with a fruit platter. "Have faith," he whispered to himself, making the last second decision to make it a touch more decadent with a small bowl of Nutella to dip the fruit into.

If this truly was going to work, he would spoil you at every turn moving forward. Never another minute squandered, nor another craving denied.

"Have faith," he whispered again, putting on an apron to prevent any spills from ruining his white dress shirt and proceeding to slice up the fruit.

Then he heard the bedroom door open. And for the first time in days he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope.

He waited until you made your way down the stairs, fighting every urge to meet you halfway and take you into his arms. He knew you needed to acclimate into this life you'd been suddenly thrust into; Loki had done his part, now it was his turn to ease you into your new reality.

Your footsteps got closer and closer until finally they stopped just outside the kitchen area. That was the only time Tom allowed himself to turn around and look at you, relief flooding his system once he laid his eyes on you. In the silk navy blue nightgown, wearing your wedding ring.

He finally felt like he could breathe again.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

A/N: *peeks from the corner* I promised I'd have a sequel for 'feels like mine' up, and here it issssss 🫡 This isn't 'sworn fealty' after all 🤣 (in all seriousness though I will be working on a sequel to that I just have 0 idea when)

And technically this isn't a sequel but more of a prequel to part 1…all I can promise you is that there is a part 3 and it's spicy 😳👀 Dunno when that'll be out tho because I'll be returning to the requests pile but we'll see where the vibe takes me

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified

[theloganator101]

The Great BNHA Review: How do you fuck up teaching a moral THIS badly!?

Ah themes and morals... not every story or show needs to have these kind of things. Not every story needs to be deep or thought provoking, but for stories that do, it's important to have them correlate well with the story so we can understand what it's trying to say.

Like Ratatouille's moral of "Anyone can cook" or even the first Spongebob Movie's message of "You are who you are" is told really well.

And what is the moral BNHA tries to convey to it's audience?

"Anyone can be a hero!"

Okay, fine, that can be a good message to tie into a story about heroes. And how does this message get conveyed into the story?

"Oh the main character starts off quirkless but obtains the Number One hero's power."

... So literally by making him like everyone else around him? Wouldn't it make the message hit harder if he strived to be a quirkless hero to prove everyone that called him weak or worthless wrong?

"Oh but if he stayed quirkless then he wouldn't be able to partake in the final fight!"

Oh is THAT why All Might came in to fight AFO with a mecha suit!? If technology is SO advanced to where this kind of thing can exist, then why can't Izuku have the same courtesy huh?

For real I blame the narrative for making people believe a quirkless hero is impossible to be in this show when it's clear that it can be a thing! For whenever I bring up this idea, I ALWAYS get hit with the same quote of:

"Well the plot wouldn't be the same if Izuku stayed quirkless! Izuku can't go up against AFO or Shigaraki that way!"

And that's the thing! I'm not asking for the same plot but with Quirkless!Izuku, I'm asking for a story where the main character proves he can keep up with his classmates with quirks! You can't exactly tell that kind of story when you make the main character like everyone else!

And on top of that, it also twists the message of:

"Anyone can be a hero...! But only if you fit in with the majority!"

Which is kind of fucked up when being quirkless can be compared to having a disability in real life... so the story is basically saying you won't amount to anything worthwhile if you're not like everyone else.

But enough about the whole quirkless thing, let's move on to another thing the series tried to shove down our throats and treat it like a meaningful message...

"Win to save, save to win"

A saying that you and I have grown familiar with, something that was only created for the sole purpose of bringing Izuku down to Bakugou's level and solidify them as rivals... Even if the saying fucking sucks and SHOULDN'T be hero material.

I mean SERIOUSLY!? Winning isn't everything, and while it could be somewhat true... it's seriously a bad message considering that this is supposed to be a series where the main character teaches that there's more to being a hero than winning and getting fame and glory all the time.

Ah yes, and that one moral I keep saying...

"If your abusers are sorry, you should forgive them and keep them in your life! And if you refuse their apology then you're just as bad if not worse than them when they hurt you."

This moral... this goddamn moral is what stood out to me the most throughout BNHA. It is flat-out terrible and I'm honestly surprised NO ONE on the writing or illustrating team caught on to this and brought it to Hori's attention. It's enforced with Izuku and Bakugou, it's enforced Shoto and Endeavor, and it's somewhat enforced when Overhaul was begging to see Eri but luckily the other characters were like "No."

And the thing is none of this would be a problem if it didn't have the victims forgiving them and instead tells them to fuck off because they screwed up enough of their lives already. Why would you ever give the person who hurt you a second chance? Why would you risk letting them repeat the same mistakes?

I just wanna say one thing regarding all this...

You are NOT responsible for your abuser's actions or things they choose to do, it is NOT your job to "make them better" nor should it fall on your shoulders to keep them in check, you do NOT owe them your time, your efforts, your patience and kindness...

You 👏 Do 👏 Not 👏 owe 👏 them 👏 SHIT!!

So for the next part I'm actually gonna go off track and talk about the other characters in BNHA and just how utterly wasted they really were in this story, and hopefully it won't take as long as this one!

[milaisreading]

Good day, dear! ^*^

I'm an anon who requested you some manager stuff yesterday and OMG YOU MADE ME SOO HAPPY! You're my favorite bllk blog now and I love your bllk manager series A LOT! Thank you so much for writing this. I'm not good enough at reviews but your writing is really good. I like everything: your long funny and cute scenarios, your imagination, manager-chan's personality. Thank you so much for writing my requests, I'm really thankful. Please stay safe and happy!~

Can I ask you for headcanons/scenarios about manager-chan takes care of boys (you can choose any characters you want) when they are sick/injured or have a mental breakdown?

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!~

With love,

Garden.

Author: OMG?! Thank u sm from the words, it means a lot🩷 I didn't expect to become anyone's favorite, since there are so many talented BLLK writers, but thank u🩷 Hope u like this one and thanks for the request! Stay safe and thank u for reading 🩷🩷

Warnings ⚠️: none in particular. Reader uses she/her and there might be manga spoilers. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Reo!" (Y/n) yelled in shock as the boy fell in the middle of practice, thankfully Baro caught before anything could happen.

"What happened?" Bachira wondered as Nagi and (Y/n) ran over to the boy. His breathing was pretty heavy and it looked like his face was getting redder and redder by the minute. Cautiously, (Y/n) put her hand on his forehead, flinching at how hot it was.

"He has a fever. Nagi, can you carry him to the nearest medic room."

The white haired boy quickly nodded his head and picked Reo up and ran out of the training hall.

"The rest of you continue practice. I will inform Ego-san what had happened. Please don't cause a ruckus."

"Sure!"

"Don't worry, I will keep them at bay."

"Everything will be fine." (Y/n) smiled at their words and ran out of the room, hoping that it was just a fever Reo had.

"(Y/n) is so considerate~" Gagamaru said as the others nodded in agreement.

"I wish I was Reo right now..."

"Same."

"So it's just a fever? Nothing more serious?" Nagi asked, trying to hide his concern as (Y/n) walked out of the medic room. The girl smiled at the gesture, knowing how close these two are.

"Yeah, the doctor said it is probably a seasonal flue. Reo should be up on his feet in a few days. You should go and finish the training, before Ego-san takes your phone privileges away."

"And you? I can't leave Reo alone." Nagi said nervously as (Y/n) patted his arm.

"No worries! I will stay here and take care of him. Ego-san will send one of the senior staff members to fill in my manager duties for the next few days."

Nagi's short lived nervousness and worry died down as he realized what that meant. The boy slowly leaned down and blinked at (Y/n).

"What do you mean you won't be with us during training?"

"I can hardly be with Reo and you guys at the same time." (Y/n) answered. Nagi's eyes were dotted for a moment, then it looked like a light bulb had gone off and he started coughing.

"Oh! I don't feel well either... Seems like I have to stay with you and Reo-"

"Nagi Seishiro, get back to training... and never try your hand in acting." Ego's voice came from one of the speakers and (Y/n) laughed at the statement, as Nagi didn't do well in that department. The boy huffed and after a minute or two he agreed to go, although reluctantly.

Sighing, she walked back into the room and the nurse gave her some instructions on which medicine she should give him and what to do when the fever gets higher. (Y/n) was also given a new meal list that the boy will have to follow.

'Some of this food makes me realize how lucky I am to still be healthy.' (Y/n) cringed and ran out to get the lunch.

A while later (Y/n) came back with the food, just in time as Reo was waking up. She put the tray down and walked over to where the boy was trying to sit up.

"Don't get up so fast. Your head will start spinning!" (Y/n) warned as she helped the boy up and lean against his pillow.

"What happened?" Reo asked, feeling his face get even redder at the closeness.

"Nothing much, you seemed to have caught a seasonal flue or something. Ego-san said that you will stay here for the next few days, so practice in canceled for you."

"Oh? Sorry... I didn't want to cause any issues. Why are you here though? Shouldn't you be with the team?" Reo wondered as (Y/n) went to get the tray with food.

"I am here to take care of you. Ego-san already called in for someone to do my manager job. Everything will be fine." (Y/n) grinned as the purple-haired boy blinked at her words, her words slowly registering in his brain.

'Take care...of me?! Wait! She will stay here with me for the next few days? Alone?! Breath, Reo! Play it cool! Losing it in front of (Y/n) will be of no use.' The boy gulped and even though he was sick, he felt a weird bubble of happiness light up inside of him.

And so, truthfully to (Y/n)'s words for the next few days she barely left Reo's side during the day. Whatever he needed she would get for him, check his temperature and talk over the most random things while (Y/n) was cleaning up for the day. Reo himself felt at peace after a very long time, knowing he was cared for so much by his own crush really meant a lot to him.

'She looks even prettier today than yesterday. I wonder how the others are doing without her... must suck being them!'

3 days have passed and while Reo was enjoying his time being sick, the rest...well they didn't like this new arrangement at all. Not only will Reo miss out the practices for the next few days, but (Y/n) will also be gone. Nagi didn't like any of this, the substitute manager didn't allow him to play on his phone during the break. Baro, Rin and Isagi got punished by running 5 laps for every argument, Aryu was forced to tie up his hair in a bun, Bachira was called for a time off every time he went above what was needed for the exercise and Gagamaru... well he couldn't take any more criticism on his stance at the goal, since it was the most comfortable one for him.

"This is unbearable... When is (Y/n) coming back?" Chigiri whispered as he untangled his hair.

'I miss (Y/n)'s way of tying it."

"I don't know, but I can't do this running for too long." Isagi groaned along with Rin. The two already had 2 arguments.

"I don't like this guy at all." Baro muttered.

"What are we supposed to do? Ego-san ordered her to take care of Reo. Lucky bastard..." Otoya said, glaring at the new manager, who was busy scolding Bachira and Kurona for playing rough again.

"I hate this training. If only he would stop telling me every 2 minutes to change the way I stand... (Y/n) always encourages me to do it my way." Gagamaru groaned, taking a sip of his water.

Nagi didn't speak at all, he was in a foul mood ever since that incident happened, and not being able to play on his phone and see both (Y/n) and Reo was taking a toll on him.

Kunigami kept on sulking, as the new man kept telling him to slow down at certain times, Yukimiya and Karasu got scolded at least 3 times for joking and not taking anything seriously. Hiori by now was the only one who was on the new manager's good side.

"That guy pisses me off more than Kaiser." Kurona said, sitting down next to Karasu.

"Welcome to the club. His stuck up nature explains why he isn't a manager." Kunigami said, missing the way practice used to be less stressful.

"My monster is telling me to kick a ball in his face next time." Bachira grinned.

"I would say don't... but please do." Rin groaned.

"Why are Niko and Hiori pissed?" Isagi wondered as the others turned to look at them.

"Huge issue! We need to speak with Ego-san!"

"I wish Reo never got sick or miraculously gets better!"

"Yeah, you are not the only one who wants that." Baro rolled his eyes.

"No! That new guy just trash talked (Y/n) to a staff member and said he will ask Ego-san to get a new manager." Niko and Hiori yelled at the same time. An eerie silence fell on the group and they snapped their eyes at the duo.

"What?! What do you mean change managers?!" Isagi yelled out, being the first one to get out of the shock, followed by Chigiri and Bachira.

"Alright, I am throwing hands then if that's what he wants." Bachira said, but got held back by Yukimiya.

"Did you two hear that even right? (Y/n) does a great job." Gagamaru asked as Niko nodded his head.

"We heard him talk about it outside. We need to talk with Ego-san or Teieri-san!" Hiori exclaimed.

"Hmmm... Isagi, Baro, Kunigami and I will go talk with Ego-san. The rest of you stay here and cause as much ruckus for that bastard as possible." Rin spoke up as the others nodded their heads. As much as the boy tried to keep his calm, he really couldn't. Rin held (Y/n) to a great standard and anyone who tarnished her like that man did deserves at least to lose his job.

"Your fever went down! Maybe one more day of rest and medication, and you are free to go!" (Y/n) exclaimed as Reo nodded his head. He was happy that he was getting better, but he will miss these past few days where (Y/n) gave him her full, undivided attention.

'Man... this day is both good and sad.'

"Ya know! I am happy to see you play again!" (Y/n) suddenly said, causing the girl to look up at her in surprise.

"Really? My skills are nothing special though. Far away from Nagi, Isagi or Rin." Reo said, and he really meant it. Although he had Nagi on his side while playing, he was far from his genius best friend when it comes to talent. That alone caused a flood of insecurities to enter his body whenever (Y/n) would watch the team play, as he knew she probably had her eyes more on the skilled players like Isagi or Rin or Baro.

"What do you mean? Not everyone can copy as fast as you can, basically make themselves invisible. Just because you aren't like Rin or Isagi or anyone on the team, doesn't mean you aren't a great player." (Y/n) started speaking, and Reo's full attention was now on her. The boy could feel his heartbeat quicken and his cheeks started to turn a light pink shade.

"Y-you think so?"

"Of course! You survived this long because of your own skills, not Nagi's. Don't put yourself down. I for one, find you great!" (Y/n) said, giving him a closed eyes smile. Reo felt his heart nearly leave his chest at the last part.

He was about to answer back when the doors to the medic room opened rather quickly, startling the duo.

"What?"

'Not now... we had a moment!' Reo groaned as he made the voices of Chigiri and Bachira out.

"(Y/n)! Please come back, this is getting unbearable!" Bachira said, running to Reo's bed where (Y/n) was.

"What do you mean?" She wondered.

"What Bachira wants to say is... this substitute manager sucks." Chigiri said honestly.

"He is strict and yells at us for no reason most of the time. Aryu even has to wear his hair in a bun." (Y/n) winced a little at that part, knowing Aryu hates that a lot.

"So I am guessing you are disappointed in the arrangement Ego-san and I came up with..." The girl laughed nervously as the other two nodded their heads.

"Well not really. Please tell us you are coming back soon." A pouting Bachira said as he tugged on (Y/n)'s shirt. The girl looked between the duo and Reo before sighing.

"Well, Reo should be up on his feet and training tomorrow, we are just waiting for what the nurse has to say." (Y/n) grinned, patting the said boy's back.

"Ahh that's good then." Chigiri and Bachira said in unison as Reo pouted a little.

'Well, at least I got compliments and care from her these past few days... It felt really nice to hear all that.' The purple-haired boy thought as he smiled softly.

'He really got all that care and attention from (Y/n) alone to himself... how do I make myself sick?!' Chigiri wondered.

'Do I need to take cold showers or pray for a flue now?' Bachira thought, trying to stop himself from glaring at Reo.

Meanwhile on the other side of the building, Ego was looking dumbfounded at the four boys in front of him.

"What do you mean fire her? She is the only one who could put up with you idiots."

"That's what we said! So you won't listen to him?" Rin questioned as Ego nodded his head.

"I won't. Now get out of my office, I will deal with that man."

"Thank you, Ego-san." Isagi said, genuinely feeling relieved that the man was on their side.

"I still think we should beat him up."

Baro whispered to Kunigami, who nodded his head.

[rubendiasthoughts]

Hi girly pops! ❤ I had a few stressful days cause I was finishing up writing my bachelor thesis and I had to do this pliagrarism check, which made me super nervous, but this morning just got the info that everything was fine and my thesis got accepted to be reviewed, so I thought what a better way to celebrate than to write something cute about Ruben 🤭 I hope you enjoy this short headcanon and thank you to the person who sent in this idea ❤

Going to a wedding with Ruben Dias - headcanon:

- Can you imagine getting ready with him for that wedding? How handsome he would look in a suit 🤭 and maybe he asks you to help him with his tie, so you go and fix it for him and after you are done he lightly pecks your lips saying "thank you, angel". And he would definitely help you with your dress too and zip it up for you or maybe help you with your shoes. And then he is 100% telling you that you look beautiful and gives you another kiss on your lips and maybe this time it gets a bit steamier and when he pulls back from you, he still has his eyes closed and rests his forehead against yours, a sigh leaves his lips, the only thought on his mind is how he wishes he was already taking you back home 🤭

- Throughout the whole ceremony and the party he is holding your hand or just keeps his hand on your waist as you two walk around and talk to other people.

-If there is a buffet table he would for sure be the best boyfriend and go bring you whatever food you wanted. Can you imagine him placing the plate on the table, in front of you and saying "here you go, sweet girl". And if there is a little bar or something he would bring you drinks. And he's definitely keeping an eye on you and taking care of you if you're drinking, making sure you don't have too much to drink. Cause we know that most probably he wouldn't be drinking. So at some point when you ask him to get you a drink he looks at you, caresses your cheek gently and says "no, I think you've had enough" and he hands you a glass of water saying "drink some water, sweet girl", ignoring the pout you make.

- Although, if he would make an exception and actually drink I feel like he would get tipsy pretty quick and maybe then he would get a little touchy with you, just putting his hand a bit too high on your thigh or kissing your neck when you're dancing 🤭

- And he would be leaning in to you the whole night, whispering into your ear how beautiful you look all dolled up for him. And when you're sitting at your table his hand would be on your thigh and maybe you would place your hand on top of his and play with his fingers as you listen to him chat with whoever is sitting at your table.

-Could you imagine how nice it would be to dance to a slow song with him?? He would ask you to dance when he hears the song you like come on and he stands up, holds his hand out for you as he would smile to you. He would be holding you in his arms, your head resting on his chest, you're listening to his steady heartbeat as he sways you back and forth. Maybe he would rest his cheek on top of your head and you would just enjoy this sweet, quiet moment together.

-And can you imagine if you caught the bouquet? You would be laughing to yourself as you make your way to Ruben, who was watching you and the other girls trying to catch the flowers. And he has a grin on his face and takes you in his arms, your giggles muffled by the material of his shirt as he leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head. And when you pull away, he would lean in and whisper "soon, baby" in your ear, making you blush and hide your face in his chest. 🤭

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hey, it's the DM anon. Sorry if I come off as too pessimistic, but I just want to address the reblog post

"Armand in the show doesn't need someone to introduce him to the modern world. He's already familiar with it."

This was kinda the point of my message. The main reason why the Devils Minion chapter is so popular is because it's not just a cat & mouse thriller; it's also a sitcom about a "normal" boy teaching a powerful 500 yr old immortal all about the modern world - the perfect blend of horror & romantic comedy. Logically I always knew that some of the relationship would be cut or altered when they adapted it to the show, but it looks like they're cutting all of the fan favorite scenes. (I will forever be bitter about losing 'Call Paris for me')

My fear is that the writers will change everything that made Devils Minion, Devils Minion. Whatever relationship Armand & Daniel have on the show will be brand new. I may be jumping the gun, but they've already changed the 2 reasons why Armand chose Daniel as his human companion in the first place:

1. He needed someone to teach him about the modern world and as the reblog stated, he no longer needs that. Which means we also won't get my other favorite scene: when Armand drags Daniel out of bed and demands he show him things in the city. He won't need to do that because he will already have explored these cities with Louis

2. He liked that Daniel wasn't afraid to stand up to him. But from everything the show, reviewers, and Eric has told us, '73 Daniel was just a bumbling idiot Yes Man. Where's the challenge?

And now we know that Loumand had several relationships with humans throughout the decades, some of whom got to live out their lives unharmed. So Daniel isn't even special, he's just the latest. Idk how the show expects to sell ArmanDaniel when they've erased everything that made them unique.

I know Assad talked about Armand's fear that Daniel knows Louis more than he does and the reblog thinks that might be the reason Armand falls for Daniel, but I'm nearly positive Assad was talking about Dubai Daniel not SanFran Daniel. The only connection Louis & Daniel seem to have in the 70s is their love of drugs, since one reviewer talked about how they're both fucked up during the first interview. I doubt young Daniel could stay sober long enough to have a meaningful conversation with Louis, let alone a meaningful relationship. So why exactly would Armand be attracted to him? I really hope the writers give us a real reason that's more than just "he likes him in the book. Y'all do the rest"

Anyway, thanks for allowing me to rant

:) All good.

But... I honestly would wait till the season has run. I do trust them when they say episode 5 and 8 are the game changers.

I know it's hard to stay calm when you have waited for so long to see a realization of something at all.

And... I don't think the "you can fuck them and I can eat them" humans (I hope everyone caught that line and that they attributed that to Lestat in s1^^) were anywhere close on the level Daniel will be.

I really don't.

Daniel is definitely special, as the interview in Dubai proves, imho. But... the timeline is different, that's all. Give it some time.

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

fallout (pt 1)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you work with skz in chernobyl. everything is fine....until it isn't.

tags/warnings: gruesome and horrific material, explosions, gory kind of? sorry if i missed anything.... still putting it together.

a/n: guys im sorry if no one likes this... i really don't know why i want to write this but i am. if thos offends anybody, please message me or ask a question and I WILL fix it.

also this is a whole different series from without you... im taking a break from that because its giving me brainrot 😔✊🏼

The faint hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as you stood in the conference room, the smell of coffee and old papers lingering in the air. Chan sat beside you, his fingers absently tracing circles on the side of his notebook, a habit he’d picked up whenever he was deep in thought. His calm presence was a stark contrast to the tension that filled the room.

“We need more time,” argued the lead engineer, his voice strained. “The reactor’s efficiency metrics are inconclusive. If we push it beyond its limits now—”

“You’ll deliver results,” interrupted the plant director, his voice cold as steel. “Do not forget your responsibility here. The higher-ups demand progress, and progress is what they will get.”

Your eyes flicked to Chan, seeking reassurance. His jaw tightened ever so slightly, the only visible sign of his unease.

After the meeting adjourned, Chan pulled you aside in the corridor, away from prying eyes and ears. “Something’s off,” he murmured, his hand brushing yours as he spoke. “They’re rushing too much. If the numbers aren’t ready—”

“They won’t listen,” you said softly. “You saw how they dismissed every concern.”

Chan’s lips pressed into a thin line. He took your hand, his thumb stroking across your knuckles. “I don’t want you anywhere near the reactor tonight. Stay in the lab, okay?”

You nodded, though a pit of worry was forming in your stomach.

~ The explosion happened just after midnight.

You were reviewing reports in your lab when the tremor shook the ground beneath your feet, followed by a deafening roar. A wave of heat and light seemed to burst from the direction of the reactor. The shock threw you against the wall, scattering papers and instruments across the room.

Your heart pounded as you stumbled to your feet, ignoring the sting in your palms from broken glass. Alarms blared, and the once-calm corridors were now chaos. Workers yelled over the cacophony, their faces pale with fear.

“Chan!” you gasped, sprinting toward the reactor’s control room. Smoke billowed down the hallway, thick and suffocating, but you didn’t stop.

You found him standing just outside the control room, his face illuminated by the eerie, fiery glow of the reactor core. His usually steady demeanor was replaced by something you’d never seen before—raw panic.

“Get back!” he yelled when he saw you, rushing to meet you halfway. His hands gripped your arms, grounding you even in the chaos. “You shouldn’t be here!”

“What happened?” you demanded, coughing against the smoke clawing at your lungs.

“The core,” he said, his voice breaking. “It’s... it’s exposed. We have to evacuate—”

A violent crack from above interrupted him. Debris rained down, and Chan pulled you into his arms, shielding you with his body.

~

Hours passed in a blur. Emergency meetings were held as officials tried to downplay the situation, spouting scientific jargon meant to reassure but failing miserably. The truth hung in the air, unspoken but understood by everyone.

The reactor was beyond saving.

Chan stayed close, his presence a steady anchor as you analyzed radiation readings and coordinated containment strategies. It wasn’t enough to stop the spread, and the reality of the disaster sank deeper with every passing minute.

In the quiet moments, he caught your gaze, his eyes reflecting an unspoken promise. Whatever happened next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

And for now, that was enough.

[pinkluver93]

Words Left Unsaid

A continuation of my KehXReader fic "Is This Jealousy I'm Feeling?" Enjoy!

“Ovenist….you’re attracted to me in some way, aren’t you?” 

Ovenist….Ovenist…. 

“Ovenist, you okay?” 

You look up and Nasir, the special agent helping you with the case, is looking at you oddly. You nod. “Yeah, I just got lost in thought for a minute….” 

You had called him to talk about the new evidence you’d found at Keh’s shop. He had come as soon as he could, since it’s busy at the WPA and it’s like he’s the only one there most of the time. It’s been a week since you investigated Keh, and you’ve reviewed all your notes. Now you two are reviewing the stack of papers you found. 

“I think it’s some sort of….manifesto or something.” 

Nasir studies it for a few minutes, looking at the pages. He nods with certainty and gives a determined smile. “So this appears to be a mockup for a pizza chain Keh is starting.” 

You look at him confused. “A mockup?” 

Nasir smiles. “Yes, it seems that he’s planning to expand his pre-existing pizza parlor into a chain…but it’s not called ‘Ambrosia’ now, it’s called….” He looks at the top of the paper. “Keh-lifornia Pizza Kitchen. Hmm, sounds familiar….” 

You nod. “Yeah, I suppose. I wonder if that’s why he might’ve stolen the dough. Maybe he’s using the notoriety from getting the dough to start his chain?” 

Nasir smiles. “Intriguing perspective, and it could be true, given his past….but I would talk to him and see what he has to say about it, since it could be motivation. Let’s keep our focus on the other suspects as well.” 

You nod. “Okay.” 

“Do you have anything else to show me or tell me?” 

You shake your head ‘no’. 

“Cool, call me if you want to talk about a suspect or show me a piece of evidence.” With that, Nasir leaves, and you get lost in thought. Not just about the case, but Keh’s words still linger in your head. 

How am I supposed to continue investigating Keh if he’s caught on to the fact that I kinda like him? Ever since PizzaPalooza ended, I’ve had these butterflies in my stomach I can’t control, and I SWORE I wouldn’t say anything! Ugh, why did I have to let him know how I felt about Angelica deep down? And how he shouldn’t be with her? What do I- 

“Hello? Can I get an All-Dressed Pizza? Can I also get it well done?” 

You snap out of your thoughts once again to take your customer’s order and move on with your day as usual. 

At close, you print the daily sales receipt from your tablet. It was considerably low; you had only completed one ZaZoom order and had to do 2 refunds.  

You document the day’s sales on the Pizza City Portal, where every ovenist had to input sales to show whether they are making enough to stay in business or not. You start to think about some aspects of the case you hadn’t thought of before and you grab your notebook and your special pen. Your notebook sits by you but your pen is not in its usual spot.  

What the-where's my special pen?? 

You move everything around in your reach by your shop counter-receipt paper boxes, your store’s lost and found box (which hasn’t been emptied since you opened and is filled to the brim), and some of your personal belongings...but your pen is nowhere to be found. 

Soon enough, you have searched your entire restaurant, from the kitchen to the one-person bathroom, and you have no luck. Your heart sinks as you pack up your things, lock the store and walk to your car. As you open your car door, you hear footsteps behind you, and prepare for the worst... 

....but instead of a robber’s voice, it’s a gentle, familiar voice.. 

“Ovenist?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Ovenist?” 

You close your car door in shock and the first thing you see is a shadow..albeit a very tall shadow. Next you look at who the shadow belongs to..... 

“Dr. Keh? What are you doing here?” 

He reaches into his lab coat pocket and takes something out to show you.... 

Your eyes widen. “Wait, is that-? My pen!” 

You mentally cheer, studying the golden fountain pen with a certain name engraved in it. You reach out to grab it, but pull your hand back.... 

“Hmm...” 

Keh looks at you confused. “What’s the matter? You don’t want your pen? You only tore 3 quarters of your miniscule shop down looking for it...” 

You do a double-take. “Wait what?” 

“Incase you weren’t aware,” Keh starts. “Every business in this city, yours included, is not only under 24/7 constant surveillance, but it is also public record and uploaded to the WPA website nightly.” 

You stand there, stunned. “Wow....that’s crazy...” 

Keh snorts. “Yes, I’m not really rather fond of being constantly under scrutiny, but that’s the cost of having a business in this city, and...it does have benefits..” 

“Yeah...” You absentmindedly say. “Wait, you see benefits of this?” 

Keh smiles. “Yes, it was rather fun watching you destroy a good portion of your store only to spend your time to put it back the way it was again. It was better than watching TV, dare I say.” 

You cross your arms and frown. “Real funny. That pen was very special to me, okay? The fact that I lost it and the thought that some member of the Deep Dish Gang had stolen it from me really messed with me.” 

Keh was still holding the pen and nodded. “I wasn’t laughing at the fact that you lost something valuable and meaningful to you, Ovenist. I was merely laughing at you destroying your store for any reason whatsoever. I cherish my belongings as much as anyone.” 

You nod solemnly, taking the pen from his hands. For a moment, your fingers touch his fingertips, which have a strong but silky-soft texture. It felt like a smooth lotion had just been applied to them. You think you saw Keh slightly blush at the contact, which you would’ve never seen if not for the bright street light by your car. “Well thank you for keeping it safe for me. I really appreciate it.” 

While he tried to hide his blushing cheeks, he coughed. “Well uh...you’re quite welcome.” 

“Do I owe you anything in return?” 

Keh raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

You slightly smile. “Well it’s just....whenever you do or want to do something nice for me, you expect something in return, like with the artichokes. So I was just asking....” 

Keh looks at you for a minute, then nods. “I see. Well, you dropped it when you quickly left my shop so I knew it was yours. I studied it and knew it was very special to you.” 

You look up at him in confusion. “But....why didn’t you come by if you knew it was mine? You waited until now to come....”  

Keh put both of his hands in his pant pockets and looked down a bit, then looked at you in the eyes again. “Well, we’re not exactly on good terms, Ovenist, given our history overall. I feared you would think I stole it if I brought it to you. I was originally going to have someone send it to you anonymously....” 

“Anonymously? Well why didn’t you go through with it?” 

Keh put his hands on hips and studied you. “Because for once, I wanted you to think of me as...well...” 

You look him in his eyes. “What?” 

“I wanted you to think I was a good guy, okay? I wanted you to...well, think at least somewhat highly of me...” 

You blush a bit. “But....why me? Why not the other Ovenists?” 

Keh rolls his eyes. “I could care less what Cicero thinks, I REALLY don’t care what Alicante thinks....but you, Ovenist....I don’t know. For some reason, you’re different.” 

You start to fiddle your special pen in your fingers and shyly look up at him. “I’m....different?” 

“I can’t explain it, but....yes.” Keh says. “For once in my life, I’ve found a puzzle I was never able to solve, and that’s you, Ovenist.” 

Now is your turn to snort. “You could’ve fooled me! You’re always so mean to me....” 

Keh swallows and nods. “Yes, and....I deeply regret it. I’m sorry. I’ve been trained since I was a youth to be incredibly competitive and ruthless, and.....because of that, I-” 

You both hear a group of tourists approaching, walking down the street.  

You widen your eyes. “I think we better go our separate ways for now. I’m sure you don’t want anyone spreading rumors, right?” 

Keh nods. “Yes, I agree. Though I think the Pizzagram hashtags are already trending....” 

You both get in your cars and drive away before the tourists see you both together.... 

[apple-orchards-writings]

so, im a hugeeee pokemon fan, and i couldn't resist giving some LI's full teams, i'm posting them for peer review (and also i have no idea what nicknames they would give their pokemon, so uhhh help ?)

I tried to take pokemon solely from the Galarian pokedex, cause it's the UK equivalent and I thought it'd be fun :

Kylar's team:

Chandelure was a Litwick he found in his house a few days after his parents had "the accident", and it brought him some much needed warmth. The things about Litwicks, is that they leech off of people's life force, but is also said to guide lost children to the spirit world, but Kylar was too stubborn to die, so the Litwick stayed and grew up into his Chandelure.

The Absol he found when he was in middle school, he was fleeing from bullies and ducked into an alleyway, where he found an injured Absol staring intently at him. Absols are seen as doombringers because of their ability to foresee imminent disasters, so this one had been chased off and thrown rocks at, meaning it was in bad shape. Kylar took it home and nursed it back to health, and it has since refused to leave his side.

Decidueye was the offspring of his parents' pokemon, and has been his since the egg hatched, so it's very attached to its master, willing to do everything for him, it was here for the accident and remains highly protective of its master. (also owl motif hehe)

The Alolan Ninetales I have less of a reason for, but it is said to act as a guide to people when they come to its mountain, and I had this idea of Kylar coming up the snowy mountain for some reason, and the Ninetales growing fond of this tiny shivering kid, and just following him and cuddling him until he caught it. (idk i just want good things for Kylar ig sue me)

The shiny Galvantula was for me a result of Kylar trying his hand at breeding Joltiks for fun, and this one being in the first few eggs he finds. He decides to keep it, at first for bragging rights, but he really does take good care of it, so another pokemon is added to his ever growing cuddle pile.

Finally, the Crobat was probably found in the rafters of the mansion as a small Zubat, around the time Kylar only had the Litwick and Rowlet. Kylar, having leftover pokemon food, decides to just feed the little fella, and a good friendship blooms. Crobats are said to be extremely stealthy, and can drain people of their blood, so Kylar has gained himself a convenient way of scaring off rivals.

Whitney's team:

Cinderace probably came up to Whitney when he was a child as a Scorbunny, seeing him play football with his friends and wanting to play too. A fast friendship, I'd say, I think Whitney would have been a super energetic kid, and a Scorbunny is perfect for him.

The shiny Togekiss was probably a Togepi gifted by his uncle, and technically a Togekiss, which usually avoid strife, should never stay in Rapeshire, this one likes Whitney too much to leave, it wants to bring him as much joy as possible.

I mean come on, Obstagoon is THE deliquent pokemon, of course Whitney has one. Maybe gifted to him by one of his gang's members ? I think that'd be cute.

Drednaws are seen as highly aggressive so I'm thinking one might have been rampaging through "Whitney's territory", and he wrestled it into "submission", gaining its respect, not before he gets bit through a little tho. He still has the scar from the incident, and the Drednaw sometimes licks at it in apology, now that its been caught.

Alright so I have the headcanon (or maybe it was canon and I forgot) that Whitney has had a garden since he was a kid, and maybe the Roserade came from there as a little Budew ? As in, it was interested and just started staying around, and Whitney couldn't get rid of it, so he just caught it.

Lastly, Sylveon. Sylveons evolve when they have high enough friendship with their trainer (and a fairy move), and obviously Whitney has been pampering it, but I'm thinking it probably doesn't come out of the ball in public much, it's kind of his secret ? But yeah, it's still very much loved.

Robin's team:

Dubwool was found as a Wooloo by the PC when they were going around the moors, it probably escaped from a farm and PC just brought it back for Robin to take care of as a gift. Its wool is said to be bouncy, but I think it can also be a way for Robin to ground themselves if they ever panic, as in they can bury their face in the wool and just shut the world out, I think that'd be sweet.

Goodra has been with Robin since it was a little Goomy, which are considered the weakest dragon type (the pokedex says it not me). Goomys are very good at detecting danger, and can hide very easily, so, sensing little Robin's good intentions, it probably helped hide him from Bailey. Apparently, Goodras give amazing good hugs, even if they do cover their trainer in slime, but I don't think Robin would mind.

Quagsire, similarly knew Robin as a Wooper. Woopers, when walking on land to find food, develop a toxic membrane on their bodies, but this one couldn't quite manage it, and was attacked by predators when Robin was passing through. Robin chased off the predators and gave the Wooper some fruits to help it recuperate, and its been attached to them ever since. Quagsires are very carefree pokemon, and they make great pillows. Basically I'm just giving Robin a perfect team for a cuddle nest.

Victini is the only legendary on this list, and I felt it was only right to give Robin the ever cheerful Victory Pokemon. Victini probably found Robin either after they were taken to the docks, or if that hasn't happened, after they confess to PC. Robin keeps Victini secret at all costs, as it would be hunted for its ability. Having Victini around probably helps Robin regain some self-esteem, and they make a great duo.

Boltund is a dog Robin found in the park one winter day as they were selling hot chocolate, a poor cold mutt with no identifiable traits proving it was owned. Robin secretly took it home and made the split second decision to keep it, now they've got a very excitable dog that's unflinchingly loyal. Boltund acts a sort of guard dog as well, reassuring Robin when they're walking past the docks.

Whimsicott had infiltrated the orphanage, and pulled a prank on Bailey, as Whimsicotts are wont to do, covering his office in its excess cotton. Bailey was furious and looking everywhere for the mischief maker, but the little ball of trouble had hidden itself in Robin's room, and the latter decided to keep it out of trouble and continue hiding it. Ever since then it's felt indebted and stays with Robin. It also quite likes to play pranks on Bailey, and that brings a smile to Robin, so why not continue to do it?

Sydney's team

Inteleon was actually gifted to Sydney as a Sobble by Sirris, reasoning his child should have a partner pokemon, so Sydney is the only one of this list with an actual starter pokemon (in the sense that he was supposed to go on a pokemon journey but ultimately stayed home). Inteleon loves its trainer very much, even if it has to force them to take breaks every now and then. A laid back pokemon and a hardworking trainer is a good duo, they influence each other a lot.

Audino was actually the temple's pokemon at first, acting as an aide to the temple's nurse, but it liked Sydney a lot and always fussed over them much more than any other initiate, so the temple relented and allowed Sydney to keep the Audino. Audino is actually the first one to pick up on Sydney's crushes, since it can use its feelers to sense its trainer's emotions. It subtly pushes Sydney to confess every time.

Dragapult was a lonely Dreepy haunting the temple's cemetery, having been left behind by its pack, it was letting out little mourning cries, which naturally attracted the curious little Sydney, who started leaving some food out for it, since it was too flighty to be approached at first. A few more weeks of getting it used to their presence, and it let itself be caught and taken care of.

Lilligant to me, was originally Sydney's other parent's pokemon, and acted as a sort of mother to them from the start. Lilligants release a soothing aroma, and I think in a time of mourning, or when Sydney lost Kylar, it would act as an aid and smother Sydney in the fragrance to help him feel better.

Okay so work with me for Volcarona here, because in multiple pokedexes, Volcarona is said to have been revered as a sun deity, and while that isn't the case today anymore, it still is a very significant part of Volcarona's history, so finding one in the woods while on a walk someday and being followed by it to the temple, all the while acolytes and initiates are falling to their knees around you is not the thing Sydney was expecting, but still, Volcarona has chosen them, so might as well roll with it.

Finally, Dedenne was a living in the school library before Sydney found it chewing through books and decided to give it a better home, and now it lives with them. It likes to take care of the books as well, and has become the library's unofficial mascot.

so uhh yeah those were my thoughts, tell me what you think ?