#but there is no doubt in my mind that no time in the world is going to help me come around to that conclusion.

[lexluvsmegs]

Just thinking about Nanami helping virgin!Ino fuck you for the first time.

Ino feels as if he was on cloud 9 after finally asking you, his sexy class mate, to be his first ever girlfriend. He’s nervous, that much is painfully obvious, his sweaty hands fiddling as he blurts the words out trying his very best not to stutter. His hopes aren’t set too high since you’re… you. But when you smile that beautiful smile and nod your head in acceptance he leaves with hearts in his eyes. Literally.

He’s in love, there’s no doubt about it. You’ve been going out for a few months now and Ino has been nothing but a gentleman, pulling out all the stops to keep you impressed. He’s made you playlists with your favourite songs, taken you out to fancy restaurants, bought you the clothes you’d been eyeing. What more could a girl want?

However, there was one aspect about dating that was weighing hard on him, and that was sex. You see, you were hot, and Ino was a virgin. That may not seem like such a big deal. But to him? It was the end of the world. His insecurities were eating away at him. What if he wasn’t good enough for you? What if he couldn’t satisfy you? In his mind, everything could go wrong.

And that’s how Nanami found himself here, positioned on the edge of Ino’s bed as you lay naked, sprawled across the plush mattress with Ino knuckle deep inside your gushing pussy following Nanami’s instructions as if his words were law. Ino had practically gotten down on his knees when he begged for the older man’s help, he really couldn’t lose you. Thankfully, Nanami took sympathy on the poor boy. He couldn’t deny that you were stunning, so maybe it was a little selfish when he agreed to the terms with the promise of seeing you in such a compromising setting. Call him a perv but just the thought of you was able to make his pants feel just the bit tighter.

“Angle your fingers like this” he sounded calm and composed, but in reality he had never felt so excited. Nanami shuffled closer as he grabbed Ino’s hand and repositioned it until it had you moaning out his name. God did Nanami want it to be his name next.

“T-that feel good baby?” Ino felt breathless as his fingers kept up his ruthless pace. You couldn’t form a proper sentence being too overwhelmed by the immense pleasure you were feeling. However, the endless whines that fell from your lips let the two men know exactly how you were feeling.

Nanami felt his resolve break slightly as he knelt down next to Ino who looks at the blond with a confused glint in his eyes. Nanami, however, wasted no time as he lowered his head to be eye level with your gushing pussy. With a deep inhale of your scent he finally opened his mouth to taste your juices and immediately groaned.

“Tastes so good” you can barely make out the words as he sloppily laps his tongue over your clit causing you to snake a hand into his golden locks and pull. His tongue felt like heaven as it dipped deep into your hole, tracing his name over your puffy lips not allowing you the chance to catch your breath. Babbles of his name leave your mouth in huffs as you feel yourself reaching your first orgasm. To your disappointment, Nanami halts his movements of nipping and sucking at your clit and sits back. Fucking tease.

“She should be ready for you now” his voice is so husky and damn is it sexy. Ino immediately fumbles as he stands, nervous yet hard as a rock, his cock bobs as his flushed tip falls from his lower belly. You hadn’t yet had time to properly inspect it but my god, it was long. By no means was it ugly, you would argue that it was one of the prettiest you had seen, prominent veins led up to his raging head that pulsed with the need to be buried deep within you. Your legs would have closed if it weren’t for Nanami’s strong hands keeping them wide open.

Ino climbed onto the bed, his weight held up by his shaking arms. “So wet f’me baby… you ready?” His gentle tone had you melting deeper into the sheets as you gave a slight nod. He took this as his chance to reach one hand down to pump himself a few times before lining himself up and pushing his cock inside. The three of you groaned, Nanami transfixed by how well you were able to take Ino’s cock. He wondered how you would be when taking his.

Ino felt like he was in heaven as your gummy walls wrapped around him so perfectly. “P-please move” your hoarse voice called out which spurred Ino to snap his hips down into you leaving you gasping. An uneven tempo was created, though, Nanami could tell Ino’s pace wouldn’t bring you to finish, therefore he took matters into his own hands, resting a large palm on Ino’s lower back as he guided his strokes. If Nanami hadn’t promised to help Ino he would have probably taken you for himself, his hard length screaming for relief as he palmed himself with his free hand.

With the new pace set, Ino was making you see stars as he hit deep within you. Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails dug deep, Ino groaned at the thought of you leaving marks and claiming him as your own. His hips stuttered as you pulled his face close to yours, sloppily kissing and licking into his mouth. You were gonna be the death of him. You broke the kiss to look down at where he was pounding into you and instead noticed the bulge that was forming in your belly every time Ino would push back in. Ino followed your eyeline and couldn’t help but whine as he found the source of your attention. He was filling you so good you could barely process your impending orgasm.

The feeling was intense as you tried to wriggle away from the shocks of pleasure racking through you. “S’too much” tears began streaming down your face as Ino’s pace never faltered.

“Stop whining, you can take it” Nanami’s harsh voice rang out.

“S-so close” you whine out, you can tell he and Nanami are the same as they moans filling the room grow desperate. And as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him close, he empties out into you causing your own orgasm to crash over you.

You feel a hand petting your hair as you come down from your high, turning to face Nanami as he offers you a sweet smile. You pretend not to notice the obvious stain now gracing his light pants and instead smile in return as Ino slumps his body atop yours.

Virgin!Ino who’s no longer a virgin.

——

© lexluvsmegs 2025 ➳ ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

PLEASE DO NOT Copy, Translate, Re-Upload, or Steal ANY of my work.

Thank You, Beautiful People! :)

[feuillesss]

Pick a Pile - Advice for you

Hello everyone! Just a reminder that this is a general reading, so messages will be for a collective. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and choose the image or number that speaks the most to you. If you're not attracted to any images, this reading might not be for you, don't force it. A reminder to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. Let me know if any of this resonates with you! Thanks for reading :).

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

Pile 1

Hello Pile 1! You may be feeling a sense of confusion within yourself, for some in this collective, you're trying to put up an exterior that isn't true to yourself. Spirit is telling you to take some time to rediscover yourself and who you are, focus on healing your soul, mind, and spirit. Maybe for some of you, you're very hard on yourself and feel like you don't deserve the opportunities that come to you like you didn't work hard enough so you sabotage it. The advice for you is to forgive yourself, or other people for past mistakes, and continue forward focusing more on yourself. Some of you have been neglecting yourself, it kind of feels like you might have been going through a period of just numbness or depression, maybe worried about your future and your truth, what's out there for you. It's almost like you're deluding yourself and running away from your problems. The main piece of advice for you is to nourish and support your body, feed yourself good food, take yourself out for a walk, and do things for yourself. A huge message of self care here, do something for yourself. Even if it's just a facemask, or watching your favourite movie, ordering your favourite meal, do something that makes you happy. Take some time for inner introspection, when you heal your body, you also heal your mind and vice versa. Trust your intuition, trust yourself. Thank you for reading my Pile 1's!.

Signs: rain, wind, 10:10, 1010, doves, tattoo of birds, yellow, blue, the beach, whales, nautical, water, water signs specifically pisces and cancer, fish, scales, rainbow fish.

Pile 2

Hello Pile 2. Straight away I see that some of you are holding onto this resentment in your life, whether that's from previous lovers, family, situations, jobs, or yourself. You're holding yourself back from personal growth and love for your life by clinging to the past. You may hate to hear it but forgiveness, forgiving these people is necessary to heal yourself, stop holding that grudge. Allow yourself to grieve, give yourself that closure, and close that chapter of your life, it's time to let it go. These situations have caused you lots of pain in the past, and it still affects you to this day, it's okay to let it go. Maybe for some in this collective, you've had absent parents or struggled with your family life and it's caused you this deep wound of resentment. But Pile 2, the only person you hurt by holding onto this is yourself, you only punish yourself. Have compassion for yourself, allow yourself to be free of whatever situation has you so resentful. Some of you may have bee attracted to pile 1 as well, if that's the case, there may be a message for you in that pile. Thank you for reading Pile 2.

Pile 3

Hello Pile 3. Why are you doubting yourself so much? There's a huge focus here on self-doubt and doubting your decisions. Spirit is telling you to just go with the flow sometimes and stop seeking comfort in rigidity. Shift your perspective to a more positive one, stop focusing on what you did wrong and second-guessing your decisions. I feel like this is a more dramatic collective of people, when something goes wrong you think your whole world will collapse on top of you. I want to let you know that this is not the case, mistakes are necessary, otherwise you won't learn the lessons that you're supposed to. You may have faced a bit of a setback recently that's really got you doubting yourself, but it's okay to have setbacks and failures, it doesn't mean that you need to beat yourself up over it. Setbacks and mistakes are what help us grow to become better people. Maybe for some of you it was a mistake at work, or something to do with money. Trust your intuition, listen to yourself, and stop doubting every decision that you make, stay firm in it. Allow yourself to make mistakes, to grow and transform into your best self, focus more on restoring your peace, and grounding yourself. Yeah, you may have been feeling very discouraged lately, but don't worry. Shift your mindset from how you've failed, to what you can do now to succeed. Take some time to rest and recover, and come back with a positive mindset. Thank you for reading pile 3!

Thank you for reading!

[nik0nk1]

CAN I REAUEST MARK WOTH A S/O WHO IS LIKE SHADOW MILK COOKIE..?

SO SHINY SO STRONGGGGG

Author's Note: After a lot of begging from my friends and some request of it, I finally made this fjdbbdj hope y'all like it, it's gonna be a bit short and it's not only Mark on it hehe

SMC!Reader

Crossover shenanigans, Mark is frustrated, Debbie needs a break, Eve is lowkey spiraling, Omniman has had enough, Mauler Twins are fighting themselves(or are they?), [Name] wants chaos

♪•|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|•♪

Shadow Milk Cookie!Reader Headcanons + Invincible Characters' Reactions

What if [Name] is Shadow Milk Cookie inspo!

You embody deception, illusions, and trickery, with an unsettlingly playful demeanor.

Your words are laced with half-truths, riddles or just straight up lies, making it hard for people to tell when you're being serious.

You have a theatrical way of speaking, always performing as if the world is your stage.(maybe the world really is just a big stage and were- Ahem)

Your jester-like attire and mask add to your eerie aesthetic, making you look like you belong in a twisted fairytale.

Your abilities revolve around shapeshifting, creating false realities, and manipulating minds with your elaborate tricks.

You revel in chaos but are not entirely evil(or..?)—your motives are complex, and your allegiance is as unpredictable as your magic.

Sometimes, you switch from playful banter to chilling, calculated menace within seconds, making it hard to trust you.

Invincible Characters First Reaction to ShadowMilkCookie!Reader

Mark Grayson / Invincible

At first, Mark is kind of confused. You look like a jester but talk like a villain in a Shakespearean play. When you suddenly disappear and reappear behind him, whispering, "Oh, dear hero, what would your mother say if she knew how fragile you truly are?"—he immediately gets on edge.

"O-okay... what the hell was that?" He’s wary of your illusions and hates how you keep making copies of yourself, laughing in his ear. Mark tries to fight you, but it’s like trying to punch a dream—nothing ever lands. He’s frustrated as hell but also a little terrified.

Omni-Man / Nolan Grayson

Omni-Man is not amused. At all. He doesn’t like mind games, and he especially doesn’t like being made a fool of. The first time he encounters you, he swings at you full force—only for you to vanish into thin air, your laughter echoing around him.

"What kind of trickery is this?" he growls.

"Oh, my dearest Viltrumite, I do wonder... what would it take to make you truly doubt yourself?" You smirk, summoning an illusion of Debbie crying and cursing his name.

For the first time in a long while, Omni-Man hesitates. His fists clench, his eyes flickering between rage and something else. But then—he snaps out of it, flying toward you at full speed. You barely dodge, grinning.

"Tsk tsk! So easily fooled! You really are all muscle and no mind!"

If you actually manage to make him doubt himself even a little, congratulations—you just made one of the most dangerous beings in the universe furious.

Debbie Grayson

Debbie doesn’t trust you one bit. The way you talk, how you always almost tell the truth but twist it just enough to keep people guessing—it sets off all her alarms.

"I've dealt with liars before," she says, arms crossed. "What do you actually want?"

And you? You just grin. "Want? Ah, dear lady, isn't that the eternal question? I want what you want. A moment of peace. A truth that doesn’t hurt. A world where love isn’t a lie… But alas! That is not this world, is it?"

She HATES how much your words make sense.

Cecil Stedman

Cecil has seen a lot of weird things in his time, but you? You’re something else. He’s immediately suspicious and keeps you under constant surveillance.

"I don't trust you, clown."

"Oh, Cecil, you wound me! I am but a humble performer! A mere weaver of stories! Why, the real villains here wear capes, not jester hats."

He doesn’t laugh. He just glares at you, muttering under his breath about how much of a pain you’re going to be. But deep down, he knows you could be useful—if he can figure out how to keep you under control.

Atom Eve

Eve is cautious around you. She wants to believe there’s good in you, but she can also feel how dangerous you are. Your unpredictability puts her on edge, especially when you start saying things like—

"Ah, Eve, you have the power to reshape the world, and yet... you hesitate. Tell me, how does it feel to hold the divine in your hands but fear to use it?"

She clenches her fists, glaring. "I don’t have to prove myself to you."

And you? You just smirk. "Oh, but darling, you want to, don’t you?"

She HATES how you get under her skin.

The Mauler Twins

At first, the Maulers just think you’re some kind of joke. But then, when they try to punch you and end up hitting each other instead—oh, they start taking you seriously real fast.

"What the hell?! Where’d they go?!"

"I dunno, but I swear I saw ‘em over there—WAIT, HOW AM I PUNCHING MYSELF?!"

They get so frustrated that they try to just blow you up instead. Too bad explosions don’t work well on illusions. You leave them screaming at each other while you skip away, laughing.

Overall:

Omni-Man is pissed.

Mark is frustrated.

Debbie doesn’t trust you.

Cecil is stressed.

Robot is confused.

Eve is questioning herself.

The Maulers are punching air.

And you? You’re just having the time of your life watching it all unfold.

After all… isn’t the world just one big, delicious lie?

♪•|~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|•♪

Author's Note: Making a part two, cause I'm adding Robot, Thragg and Conquest cause why not?

Toodles~

[myrleius]

the side hustle — kozume k.

kozume k. x fujoshi fem!reader│word count: 1.2k

synopsis: Kenma finds himself supplying BL intel to his hopelessly addicted girlfriend.

notes: Had a 3 AM flashback to my high school days when my guy friends kept feeding my BL delusions just to see me lose my mind. And thus, this fic was born. Please don’t take it too seriously. Just my sleep-deprived brain doing its thing.

cw/tags: crack, fluff, established relationship

Kenma wasn’t sure when his life had turned into this.

One minute, he was living peacefully—gaming, volleyball, minding his own business. The next? He had a girlfriend. A loud, affectionate, chaotic girlfriend.

For all their differences, they just fit. Yn was all bright eyes and boundless energy, always ready with a new obsession, a wild theory, a reason to make the world more exciting than it was. Kenma was quieter, content to observe rather than chase. But with her, watching wasn’t enough. She made things feel worth engaging in.

She never dragged him along—just opened the door, left it unlocked, and smiled when he eventually wandered in. She could fill a room without suffocating it, knew when to push and when to leave things be. And even in her loudest moments, she never felt too much. Kenma didn’t think he needed that. Until he did.

But there was one tiny downside.

She was a massive BL fan.

Not just casual, oh-this-is-cute levels of obsession. No, Yn was the type to pause mid-conversation just to gasp at two guys standing within five feet of each other. The kind to turn a simple, innocent interaction into a star-crossed love story before he even had time to blink.

And somehow, he’d been roped into the madness, officially serving as her dealer, slipping her BL intel on the volleyball team while she, a hopeless addict, kept coming back for more.

He honestly didn’t get it. What was so special about imagining people who weren’t dating… dating? But then she would just light up at the smallest details, gasping dramatically like she had just uncovered a hidden treasure.

Yeah. That was probably the reason he went along with it.

Which is why, even though this was objectively ridiculous, he still let her in when she came over, already knowing what she was about to ask.

The door to his room slammed open.

Kenma barely flinched. Without looking up from his Switch, he deadpanned, “You’re late.”

Yn practically bounced at the sight of him, her eyes already gleaming with barely-contained excitement. “Were there any important developments?!”

Kenma sighed, saving his game before setting the console aside. “Close the door first.”

She kicked it shut behind her and hurried over, plopping down cross-legged on the floor. Elbows propped on his bed, hands clasped under her chin, she leaned in expectantly. “Report.”

“Lev got hit in the face with a volleyball today.”

Yn nodded sagely. “Classic.”

“Yaku patched him up while cursing him out. Lev said, ‘Wow, you’re so gentle, Senpai.’” Kenma kept his voice as flat as ever, knowing full well she was already eating this up. “Yaku kicked him.”

She squealed, grabbing his arm and shaking him. “That’s so cute!”

Kenma gave her a pointed look. “It’s assault.”

“But it’s their love language.”

He propped his elbow on his knee, using his hand to hide the smirk twitching at his lips. “Right.”

Yn’s eyes sparkled, no doubt already conjuring up an entire romantic subplot in her head. She clutched his sleeve, gaze full of manic determination. “Did he say anything else?”

Kenma pretended to think, dragging it out for maximum effect.

After a long pause, he finally said, “Lev thanked him. Then Yaku just grunted and told him to shut up.”

Yn gasped, eyes widening before slamming her hands onto the bed. “They’re definitely in love!”

Kenma snorted, shaking his head. “That’s normal, Yn.”

“No, no, no.” She scooted closer, eyes alight with conspiracy as she went full lecture mode. “Kenma, it’s the classic ‘grumpy pretends they don’t care but totally does’ dynamic. You know, the grumpy one does something nice, the soft one gets all flustered, grumpy brushes it off like it’s no big deal. But then it keeps happening, over and over, until grumpy finally snaps and is like—” She dropped her voice to a dramatic growl. “‘Why do you make me feel things?!’”

Then she flung her hands up for emphasis. “And boom—accidental love confession, the soft one melts, they kiss, and then they finally fu—”

“PG-13, Yn.”

She waved him off. “Right, right. My point is, it’s only a matter of time.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, watching as she practically glowed, completely lost in her own world. “You’re so delusional.”

Yn grinned, completely undeterred. “Oh, Kenma. My sweet, naïve, blind-to-true-love Kenma.” She patted his hand like a disappointed parent. “You just don’t have the vision. The ability to see the tension, the build-up, the inevitable.”

He stared at her, unimpressed. “Yeah, crazy how I missed the deep romance in ‘shut up, Lev.’”

Yn grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. “IT’S CALLED SUBTEXT!”

Kenma lets out a quiet chuckle, letting her have her moment. Arguing was pointless. She was too far gone. And, really, he didn’t mind.

She recovered quickly, but the moment her eyes flickered toward him with that mischievous glint, Kenma already knew what was coming.

“And what about you and Kuroo?” she asked, grinning.

Kenma side-eyed her. "What about us?"

She clasped her hands together, forming a finger gun before pointing it at him. “Did he ruffle your hair today? Call you cute? Maybe stare at you for too long?”

Kenma sighed. “I lost rock-paper-scissors and he took the last vanilla ice cream at the convenience store.”

Yn gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “The betrayal.”

Kenma nodded solemnly, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. It had become an ongoing joke that yn shipped him with Kuroo. Worse, Kuroo was entirely on board with it, feeding her delusions at every opportunity just to mess with him.

“I told him we were over,” Kenma said, indulging her.

She crossed her arms and nodded, looking thoroughly pleased. “Childhood best friends turned bitter exes.”

Kenma huffed out a laugh, shaking his head before reaching up to pinch her cheek. “I can’t believe I’m dating you.”

Yn beamed, her voice dripping with affection. “You love it.”

And, yeah. He did.

Kenma wasn’t sure when it had happened. When her chaos had become something he craved rather than tolerated. When her dramatics had turned from amusing to endearing. When the idea of not having her around felt... unthinkable.

She made things complicated, ridiculous. But he wouldn’t change a single thing.

Before she could say anything else, Kenma turned slightly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. No hesitation, no build-up. Just done.

She froze, her body going completely still. Kenma’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “You get excited over the dumbest things,” he murmured against her skin before pulling back.

When he met her gaze, her face was bright red, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“It’s cute.”

Yn let out a strangled noise before flopping forward, burying her face in his shoulder. He let her, wrapping his arms around her with ease.

“That was… so boyfriend of you,” she mumbled.

Kenma didn’t even blink. “I am your boyfriend.”

She groaned, clutching his hoodie tighter. “Stop. I can only take so much.”

Kenma let out a quiet chuckle, gaze flickering toward her. For all her dramatics, she really was cute.

For a moment, she stayed curled up against him, completely still. Then, without warning, she shifted slightly and grumbled, “I still don’t understand why Kuroo thinks he’s the top between you two. You give off way more top energy than he does.”

Kenma hummed in agreement. “Mm.”

A beat passed. Then, with zero hesitation, he added—

“I’d top you too.”

“WHAT?!”

[starrysturns]

if it feels like a trap, you're already in one

after chris had the world crushing revelation that he was invisible and wiped from existence, the first thing he decided to do was see if he could walk through walls and doors.

spoiler alert: he can’t. after running full speed into the walls of the living room he landed on the floor with a thud, groaning at the now banging sensation in his head. chris slowly rose to his feet.

he was lost, not really knowing what to do.

he had checked tiktok, #chrissturnioloedits didn't even exist anymore, he wasn't in the group tiktoks they’d post once in a while, and the photo dumps were just matt and nick.

one thought that did cross his mind was that he could walk around naked freely- but he shook that out of his head, just in case.

it had been hours of chris just trying stupid stuff. he tried to see if could text people but it just said ‘message failed to deliver.’ every. single. time. chris got an orange crayon and started to write a letter. when matt and nick returned this would be in front of their faces and it would jog their memory that they had a triplet brother and bam! problem solved, hopefully.

nick and matt returned, warily walking back into their apartment, the first thing chris saw was matt holding an emf reader, no doubt borrowed from their paranormal investigator friends.

“alright ghost-” matt called out. chris couldn't help but laugh at how goofy his brothers looked, matts arms outstretched and in front of him and nick behind him. “are you getting anything?” nick asked.

“no.” matt said quietly, “sam and colby said this should work!”

“maybe it's not a ghost and we were hallucinating.”

"a shared hallucination of a pepsi and the camera floating…you're fucking stupid!”

“we should’ve brought sam and colby here with us, they would've done this better!”

chris couldn't get their attention by talking, so he did the next best thing he could think of, with his handwritten letter on the table he decided to lure them to it.

chris threw an empty pepsi can at matt, which made both nick and matt stop bickering and slowly turn to where the pepsi can came flying from.

“nick?”

“yeah?”

“what the fuck.”

chris threw another which hit matt square in the face, “what the fuck?!” matts voice was elevated. chris couldn't help but laugh, under different circumstances matt would definitely be beating his ass right now.

he slowly set up a trail of empty pepsi cans, mentally noting for later that he had a pepsi problem. he placed the final can to the letter, his eyes moving to where nick and matt were frozen in fear.

“i think it wants us to go to the table.”

“okay so you fucking go. i’m staying here. i have the emf reader!”

“matt! you can't send me over there by myself! what if it's a trap and the ghost kills me and possess my body.”

“then i’ll record it and tell sam and colby the next hell week should be at our place.”

“oh great! use my possession for fucking content.” nick huffed.

nick slowly made his way over to the table, using the tripod as a shield. chris sat down on the couch as he watched nick look at the letter.

“matt this ghost is fucking crazy.”

“what did it do?”

nick slowly picked up the letter, “why the fuck does it say “skibbidi rizz” in orange crayon?”

okay, what? chris wrote on the paper, he knows what it said, it definitely does not say that. he snatched the paper from nick, which made him scream and smack the air or- chris with the tripod.

chris grumbled, “ow nick!” he shook his head, looking at the paper, the words he had written were gone. he groaned, getting mad and crumbling up the paper, throwing it across the room.

he didn't want to give up, he existed and was sure of it. he literally posted a tiktok less than 24 hours ago! there had to be something else going on. he made his way to his room, the sounds of his brothers freaking out drowning out.

his room was the same it always was- all his stuff- the balloons still there from matt and nicks prank.

he just didn't get it. slamming his door shut he started rummaging through his belongings. there had to be an explanation.

it wasn't until a few hours of tearing up his room until he figured it out.

while away recording his surprises he decided to see a psychic reader. chris quickly took out the SD card from his camera and put it into his computer.

he had recorded it just to show his brothers when he got home- it wasn't for the surprise party tour. as he looked back on the footage he scoffed.

when the psychic told him the tea he drank would change how he was seen- she meant literally.

he paused the video, his head in his hands as he grumbled. there had to be a way to fix this and he’d figure it out.

he quickly jotted down the address of what he could remember.

.

chris was walking fast, not really caring about who he bumped into or whatever- it was too hard to focus on it. he had something to figure out, plus the pouring rain did nothing but make his situation worse. not only was he invisible, but he was soaked and invisible.

as he pushed past the crowded streets of LA and ignoring the people looking around like a ghost pushed them, he found himself in front of the store.

in big lettering said the words “for sale.”

chris was just there two days ago. what the fuck?

any idea popped into his head, no one could see him anyway. now normally chris sturniolo would've never done this, but desperate times means desperate measures or however the saying went.

he punched a hole through the glass door, sticking his hand through and turning the knob. after getting into the empty space he closed the door behind him.

he slowly made his way around the space, looking for something- anything. he couldn't help but feel defeated as he found nothing turning around to walk about before the edges of his shoe hit something, making him slightly trip.

he huffed as he picked up the small box, “the fuck?” he muttered. he contemplated opening the box right there but he was technically doing something very illegal at the moment. he pocket the small box and made his way back home.

“ow! fuck, watch where you're going next time!” you grumbled out as you tumbled down into a puddle. glaring up at whoever pushed you as you were now soaked.

chris stills for a moment, eyes furrowing down at you. he knew that he could be seen when he was holding an object, but he didn’t know he could actually interact with anybody. your eyes were just as wide as his were.

“oh. my. god. you’re chris sturniolo!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. chris looked around at the people who were looking at you- like you were crazy. he quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a small vacant space. “shhh! calm down. yes i am.” he whispered out.”

“oh right.” you quickly cleared your throat, trying to keep your cool and not wanting to draw too much attention to him, “sorry.”

chris shook his head, “no it's fine- just-” he paused, “you can see me?” he asked, his brows furrowed slightly in confusion.

now, it was your turn to be confused, “uhhh duh!”

chris was relieved, “sorry- that was weird.” he said with an awkward soft chuckle, “um- i’d offer to take a picture but-” he looked down at your outfit, you were soaked with dirty puddle water- “i’m really sorry about this.”

“it's fine! well actually it's not that fine- but like- i’m not mad or anything. besides it's not like you did it on purpose. unless you did but i don't think you would-” chris cut off your rambling, “here- take my jacket. it won't do much um- but, it’ll cover up the- water.” he slung his jacket over your shoulders.

“thanks” you breathed out nervously.

chris nodded once more before he started to walk away.

“wait!” you called out, “how will i give your jacket back.”

chris shook his head with a chuckle, turning around to look back at you, “keep it. it looks better on you.”

your cheeks flushed as you watched him walk away, there was just no way.

.

when chris got home, he felt lighter than he had before. he had to tell matt and nick about this, about you!

“matt! nick! you guys won't believe what just happened to me-” he called out running to matt's room where he assumed they both were.

matt and nick were talking about something when chris walked in, “guys!” he called, his shoulders slumped as he remembered.

chris was so distracted about what had happened- he forgot about his current predicament. he was invisible, couldn't be seen or heard- unless by you.

he sighed sadly, exiting matts room and making way to his own.

he sat on his bed. he remembered the box from earlier- he reached into his jacket pocket only to realize- it was in his jacket pocket. the jacket that he gave away. to you.

fuck.

[currentloser]

Signed, Sealed, Yours

pairing: yandere! kwon ji-yong | g-dragon/reader word count: 4220 tags: emotional manipulation, controlling behavior, overall just typical yandere love interest warnings summary: sequel to There was no other choice. After agreeing to be his, he takes you out to a date to seal the deal between the two of you. His plans are interrupted by your old friend.

( ao3 ) • part 1 • part 2

Caressed by someone utterly obsessed with you never felt as reassuring as the night had enveloped you. Entirely forgetting half-asleep promises as you slept, you clung close to the man in front of you. Ji-yong, unbeknownst to you, remained awake and watched as you slept. He gently ran a hand over your back, soothing you to keep you asleep.

His plan worked out so well, to have you right where you were always meant to be: in his bed, cuddled up to him.

Just as quickly as sleep took you, the world announced itself as light teased your eyelids. The warmth around you is familiar, though it was wrong in a way your sleep-fogged mind couldn't quite place. You're surrounded by the musky and familiar scent of laundry and Ji-yong’s cologne. The weight beside you shifts slightly.

Your breath stilled in response, waiting for him to speak first. The night prior was still tugging at the edges of your mind, mixed memories of what really happened and whatever was a dream. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, loose but all-encompassing. He was close enough you could feel his slow, steady breath tease against your shoulder.

It almost humored you the man was somewhere halfway in between caressing you and being caressed. You should've been shocked to wake up in such a state, but you were only met with a dull, creeping discomfort.

“You’re awake,” He murmurs, his voice rough with sleep in a way that makes you shiver.

Emboldened by your proximity, he pulled away enough to watch you as his fingers pressed against your side. Testing your reactions, to see if now that you were aware you would pull away. You should, but his voice is so gentle it makes you hesitate. Your stolen phone and flooded apartment were all distant thoughts now.

“Sleep well, jagiya?” The pet name rolls off his tongue easily, as if it's something he’s called you for years rather than something that had just started.

Those memories teasing came to the forefront- his low voice whispering to you. His hands guiding you to the bed, and the exhaustion of the day prior weighing you down until you agreed to something you couldn't understand yet.

“I-” Your voice strains, your throat feels dry.

His arm tightened around you, just enough to remind you of where you were. In his grasp, that you were his.

“No take-backs,” Ji-yong leans forward, humming as he buried his face in your hair and breathing in deep, “You already said yes.”

A shiver crawled down your spine in response. It wasn't teasing how he usually seemed to be, it rung true. It wasn't a trap, he had already succeeded and won. You force yourself to breathe in deeply, feeling how the air filled your lungs. You tried and failed to will your body to move, to do anything but lie with him and pretend like it was all normal.

Ji-yong moved first, his hand smoothing over your arm. His hand circles around your wrist and brushes over you in small circles. It's slow and sweet. You could fool yourself into thinking he'd done it a hundred times before.

“No need to rush,” His voice is sweet as it always is yet seems to curl around you like a silk ribbon tying tighter, “You don't have anywhere to be.”

You blink hard, “What?”

“You heard me,” He pushes back and leans against his balled fist to watch you, his eyes soft though his gaze didn't leave yours.

“I… Ji-yong, I have to-”

“No, you don't.”

He speaks with a tone of finality, no room for doubt in his tone. This fight was seemingly settled, and your stomach twisted. Your face screwed up in confusion, pawing your pockets for your phone he's taken hours ago.

“My job?”

“Handled,” He murmured easily, as if he was speaking about a dinner reservation, not your entire life.

Your mind scrambled, your breath caught in your throat, “What?”

“I took care of it,” His finger curls on the sensitive skin inside your wrist, grounding you to the moment with him, “I told them you'd be taking a leave. Since you're staying here, it's for the best.

The cogs are turning in your head, struggling to form a response. He notices. The flicker of shock on your face, your lips parted. There’s a glint in his eyes in response to you, satisfied at your silence. Pleased, he strokes his hand over the back of your head as if you were a pet.

“You…” Your voice falters, balling up your fists.

“Mm,” He titled his head slightly, “You're not upset, are you?”

His voice is soft- like he truly cared. The answer didn't matter though, not when it was already done. The decision to quit your job and move in with him was never up to you. All the questions forming in your head tried and failed to surface as Ji-yong patiently looked on, merely waiting for you to catch up.

Your voice is quiet but edged with disbelief as you finally manage to speak, “You told them I was taking a leave? That I quit?”

He nods as if it's nothing, “You needed a break anyway, don't you think?”

You should tell him that wasn't the point. The decision to leave your job shouldn't be up to anyone except for yourself. You would've liked to argue he couldn't make these decisions for you. Yet, his expression remains so relaxed. An expression of a well-meaning friend- boyfriend? trying his best to do something good for you. His want to take care of you only makes it worse.

“I didn't agree to that,” You shake your head, the fog of sleep that clung to you finally began to clear.

Ji-yong smiles slightly, amused, “Didn't you?” He asked, finally letting go of you to pull away from you, “You agreed to be mine, you remember? That means I take care of you now.”

A shiver prickles down your spine, goosebumps raising yet again. The reality of last night finally sets in, hard. The scene of Ji-yong pestering you to agree to taking him meant you would take him as a partner. The idea of it sent butterflies in your stomach. Despite how straightforward he was, you had always seen him as a good friend.

He was always so caring- you couldn't fault him for taking such good care of you. Never having to work again, no life outside of him- was another idea entirely. Accepting him meant accepting the tendencies he showed.

“I still have a life,” You say, trying to remain firm.

“Of course you do,” He tilted his head, his eyes flickering with something unreadable, “I'm not keeping you from anything. I just want to make your life a little easier for you.”

Your breath catches as he shifts closer. Even though you had been practically nuzzled into him earlier, the close contact now was so different. His warmth pressed into you along with that clean and musky scent grounding you. His arm shifted again to your side, surrounding you completely with every part of himself.

“Ji-yong…” Your voice comes out slightly shaken.

“You don't need to worry about anything,” He tips his head to look down at you, or rather your lips before setting back to your eyes, “I'll take care of everything.”

His calm tone ends the conversation, It's much easier to relax into the idea of letting him take over completely rather than fight it. Your brain argues with how reasonable he seemed. How easy your life would become without work, without having to worry about taking care of your own place. With him as your partner.

His fingers leave a lingering warmth against your side as he pulls away. He sits up slowly, stretching out like a cat. He reached over to his nightstand. You're about to push yourself up when he glances back at you with a small smile, gently pushing back against you.

“No rush, stay comfortable,” He murmurs.

He speaks as if he's indulging you- handling whatever you needed. Your stomach knots slightly as he turns back to face you and sets it in front of you. A neatly folded outfit, perfectly arranged. The fabric is familiar, except this time it was because it was your own instead. Your mind struggles to catch up.

As you take it in your hands, Ji-yong finally moves to stand. You sit up after him, shifting the clothes into your lap as you consider it. He casually slides his hands into his pockets, quietly confident you would take it without question. Your fingers twitch in your lap, the weight of his gaze pressed down on you.

“My clothes are here,” You can't help the surprise that's laced in your voice, thinned out as you find it again.

Ji-yong’s gaze softens, “I had them brought over. I thought you'd be more comfortable with your own things.”

“You-” You shake your head in disbelief, “You went into my place?”

“It wasn't a problem,” He steps closer and brushed his knuckle against your jaw, “I don't want you worrying while you’re here.”

Your mouth feels dry. Your heart his hammering, but you can't force yourself to react. He's already smoothed over any argument you could've had, he thought of you. He did every part of this for you. Your clothes, your personal belongings removed from your space and placed seamlessly into his own.

A realization slid into place: there was nowhere to go back to.

“Your heart is racing, jagiya. Please don't get too overwhelmed. I just wanted you to feel at home,” His fingers trail down, pressing his knuckle against your pulse.

The words that were so carefully crafted curl around you so easily. You can feel yourself being spun into the spider’s web. His home had become your own. With yours lost to water damage, and your belongings in his own home? It was all you had left. Ji-yong watched with the patience of the man who knows it's only a matter of time before you can accept it, and understand that too.

“I-” You try to gather your thoughts, but Ji-yong is already shifting closer.

He hovers over you, his hand moving up to brush a string of hair behind your ear instead. His touch lingers against your cheek and his head remains tilted, moments away from a kiss.

His voice remains sweet, endlessly patient, “You're thinking too much.”

Ji-yong weighs you down, making it impossible to pull away now. The warmth of his presence never faded, or his sweet smile. The words settle over you like a blanket, soft yet constricting you.

He smiles, his fingers tracing along your jaw and tilting the bottom of your chin towards him, “Do you trust me?”

What's the alternative? Saying no? You wonder if it would matter, if he would even allow you to disagree with him. Your eyes flicker from his to his mouth, this moment caught up in your brain. Your childhood crush and how caring he was made this moment feel sweet instead of as dangerous as it was.

Ji-yong’s eyes are unwavering, “You don't have to answer now.”

When he speaks, you know it's another trap. Another way of dealing your fate that had already been decided when you'd agreed to stay with him for a night that turned to weeks. Now he owns your clothes, your life. You can feel yourself sinking into his trap.

“...I trust you.”

It's barely above a whisper. Even as you hear yourself say it, the words don't entirely feel real. Ji-yong’s expression shifts in an instant, a soft pride in his eyes.

He gives you a slow, pleased hum, “You're so good for me.”

Before you can process the heat quickly raising to your cheeks, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. His fingers trail up from your chin and threat into your hair, holding you in place. Savoring the moment of your admission, of succumbing to him. Sealing your admission with a promise.

He pulls away, still close enough to murmur against your lips, “See? That wasn't so hard, was it?”

He doesn't wait for an answer, all too aware that each step of his plan had you sinking deeper into his hold. He presses in again, soothing you over with another kiss. Slower, this time. You find yourself leaning back into him, your hand coming up to hold onto his.

His lips are soft, and his scent is warm. It felt like a dream to be kissing him on his bed, dizzying to be there with him. He finally pulls away, an easy smile still stuck on his face.

“Let's get you dressed,” He murmured, pulling back and guiding you off the bed.

You knew better than to disagree, not a suggestion but more of an order. You glance at him, grateful he's polite enough to turn away while you pull yourself into fresh clothing. You shift out of the bed and you pass by him, half expecting him not to catch you. Though of course he turned around to face you, still smiling.

He stepped behind you, placing his hand in the small of your back and guided you out of the bedroom. His touch was light yet unwavering. His home was quiet, the scent of fresh coffee and breakfast filled the air. Hunger twisted in your stomach as he lead you toward the table, pulling out your chair like the gentleman he was.

He didn't move right away, instead he remained behind you as his hands rested on your shoulders. His fingertips pressed down just enough to remind you of his presence.

“You trust me,” He murmured, more like a reminder. Before you could dwell on his words for too long, his fingertips pressed just a little heavier. He leaned in close enough to warm his breath against the shell of your ear, “So eat.”

It wasn't so much a command as it was a form of reassurance. Without thinking, you sat down and picked up your chopsticks to eat. You took a bite, unable to hide a pleased hum at the taste of it. Finally, Ji-yong moved and took a seat across from you, watching with quiet satisfaction as he ate with you.

Every part of this somehow felt natural. The subtle weight of his control was nestled into the smallest details. The food was prepared perfectly, your favorite. He even picked your comfiest clothing for you to wear, and how his touch lingered just a little too long. Instead of questioning it you happily ate the warm food, settling something deeper inside you long before the realization could set it.

The most dangerous part of this, it was all starting to feel good.

Ji-yong barely touched his own food, even as you finished your own. You managed a worried expression his way that he shrugged off easily. If he'd planned all of this so far in advance, you didn't doubt he would've eaten beforehand. The moment you set down your utensils he wiped his hands clean and pushed his chair back.

“We're going out.”

You blinked at him, processing the sudden shift as Ji-yong was already standing expecting you to follow, “Going out?”

Your world had shrunk down to the size of the apartment over the time you'd been here. It finally dawned on you how little you knew about the city beyond his doors. It would be silly to think he'd keep you held here. He was always one step ahead, anticipating your needs before you could voice them.

Ji-yong tilted his head and stepped closer, gently lifting is fingers to brush against your jaw, “I'm only taking care of what's mine. And you are mine, aren't you?”

All you could manage for an answer was a swallow and nodding as his thumb traced a slow path over the bob of your throat.

“Good,” He praised, pressing in against your windpipe gently before finally stepping back, “Do whatever you need to be ready in ten minutes.”

…

Even though you'd only been cooped up for a day, stepping outside felt jarring. The city was open and loud, Ji-yong walked beside you. His arm effortlessly guided you by the small of your back yet again with a quiet authority. If anyone saw the two of you, it would look comforting rather than an invisible leash tightening around you.

“Hmm,” His voice was smooth, his thumb ghosting against the fabric of your shirt, “You seem a little dazed. Are you alright?”

You forced yourself to blink, pulling yourself back to the world, “Yeah, it's just a lot to take in.”

“It's different when you're with me, is that right?” He chuckled, low and indulgent.

Before you could respond, a voice cut through the hum of the crowd.

“Oh my god, is that you?!”

Your heart stuttered, and Ji-yong’s hand didn't move.

Your friend was already approaching, eyes widening with surprise, “I haven't seen you for a while! You just vanished, I was starting to think you got kidnapped or something.”

They managed a light laugh, but their gaze still searched yours for an answer. Ji-yong is still perfectly still beside you, merely watching.

“So, who's this?” Your friend's gaze flickered toward him, politely curious.

“This is Ji-yong,” You said, your throat tight, “My… boyfriend.”

The title rolled off easier than you expected. His fingers pressed into your back. A soft touch tracing a shape in your back you vaguely recognized as writing a message: good,

Your friend smiled and bowed to him, “Oh, it's nice to meet you.”

Despite how polite he usually acted around strangers, he only gave a small nod of his head in response. It was far away from his 180 degree bow you would tease him for. He still smiled, warm and charming. Unreadable.

“Likewise,” He shrugged, smoothly.

For a moment, the conversation carried on normally. Your friend chatted about their day, about how they had been meaning to text you. You don't mention that even if they had, you wouldn't have seen it. Ji-yong remained an elegant shadow, his presence never faltering. As the conversation came to a slow, Ji-yong found an opening to change the game in his favor yet again.

“You must be very close,” He mused, “It's surprising they never mentioned you.”

“Oh, well… we don't text all the time or anything,” They admitted with a light shrug, their gaze flickering toward you, “It's been a while. Why don't we all get drinks, catch up properly?”

“Drinks?” His smile didn't falter, considering it for a moment, “That sounds perfect.”

You could catch what this meant for you- he'd lost control the moment your friend ran into you. This was a reestablishment of control, and you knew it immediately.

Your friend grinned, oblivious, “Great! There's a bar down here, cmon.”

The walk passed by with a blink, Ji-yong's touch never leaving you as you walked together. The bar was dimly lit, your friend walked ahead and picked a booth for you to join them. Beside you, your now-boyfriend took the lead and gave a little bow of his head and brushed your wrist, guiding you into the booth. He slid in beside you, caging you in and pressing close enough his thigh warmed the side of your own.

“What's everyone having?” Your friend barely seemed to notice as they waved down a server.

Ji-yong barely glanced at the menu, “They'll have what I'm having.”

They paused just a second before nodding, “Man, I can't believe this. I think I remember you now- you were the childhood crush, After all these years, you guys finally got together?”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly, “We were always meant to end up together, it was only a matter of time.”

Your friend didn't seem to notice how he easily spoke over you. Even when your mouth opened to answer he quickly took the opening instead. His army snuck underneath the table and traced patterns over your knee, hidden underneath the table.”

Your friend laughed, shaking their head, “I didn't think you'd be the type to settle down.”

“Oh, I haven't settled,” His gaze didn't waver, the patterns slowing, “I've just finally taken what's mine.”

Your breath caught. Heat ran to your face and your eyes widened in disbelief. Your friend glanced at you, tilting their head curiously. You didn't have the time to answer. Out of the corner of your eye you caught him leaning in closer.

“Don't you think so, jagiya?” He purred, his voice sickly sweet yet again.

You smiled nervously and you nodded, ducking your head, “Of course.”

In a different scenario you would've scolded him for speaking in such a way. Beneath the table, he squeezed your thigh in a show of approval. His hand slid up your thighs as your friend managed a laugh.

“Things have really changed,” They shrugged as your drinks were finally served.

“Not at all,” Ji-yong grins, glancing at you and letting his voice drop lower, “They've always been mine, it just took them longer to realize it.”

“I dunno,” They mused, tapping their glass, “They've always been stubborn as hell, couldn't tell them what to do if you tried.”

“Of course,” His voice remained smooth, “That's what I love about them.”

You felt the shift in the air. The weight of his touch was firm, a silent warning to you. Your friend looked to you, searching for your own.

“I mean, you're still like that, right?” They asked.

Ji-yong traced one last thoughtful circle on your skin before slowly withdrawing. The absence of his touch felt louder than his presence.

“Of course,” You swallowed.

They held your gaze before finally knocking back their drink and leaned back, “Good. I'd hate to think an idol like him could get you wrapped around his finger.”

Ji-yong moved to wrap around your shoulders instead, pulling you in close to his side. “They know where they belong.”

As that seemed to stop that conversation in its tracks, the rest finally drifted to safer territory. The tension never fully dissolved, even as you finished your drinks. Your friend waved down the server, sliding their card onto the tray. Surprisingly Ji-yong didn't protest, watching with an easy smile as they covered the bill.

The night air as your group stepped outside was crisp. It was a welcome contrast to the warmth of the bar. Again, Ji-yong steps to your side and guides you effortlessly. The moment your friend turned to say their goodbyes, you felt the quiet search in their gaze. The unspoken question hanging between you.

“I know you've got my number, so don't be a stranger,” They waved to you, giving a polite bow.

“I'm sure they won't,” He smoothly interjected, “It was great catching up, but let's not keep each other out too late.”

Your friend offered one last smile, “Take care.”

The moment they turned away, Ji-yong exhaled softly. His touch didn't leave yours as he led you through the city streets back to his place once again. The long stretching silence of the walk sent an uneasy shiver through you. Once you were both inside, the doors closed, he finally spoke up again.

“They have no idea,” His voice was amused, taking your wrists and holding you there, “Still thinking they could pull you back. That all of it is an act, you're looking for someone to order you around properly.”

Your chest tightened as you glanced at him, trying to read the softness in his expression. His thumb pressed lightly against the center of your pulse before lifting the back of your hand, pressing a gentle kiss there.

“I hope you don't mind, but I won't let that happen,” He murmured, leveling his gaze toward you.

His expression was thoughtful, giving a quiet hum, “You know, on the walk I was thinking about what you said in there,” He turned your wrist, pressing another kiss there, “You agreed that you were mine.”

Your mind echoes the night before, that sleepy murmur. Then your date turned into an outing with your friend. Of course he wasn't going to let you take that back.

“Are you going to tell me you didn't mean it?” His tone is teasing, his free hand moving to tilt your chin towards him, “I know you did, and I know you still do.”

He leaned in close, his lips brushing yours for a moment before teasing over your cheek, “Say it again, without your sleepy mind, without your friend,” His voice is laced with a quiet satisfaction, “One more time, so I know you mean it.”

You wouldn't fight him. He'd already unraveled you, thread by thread. His careful, unshakable affection pushed you forward. You could try to push back, but as Ji-yong pulled away, you noticed Ji-yong was already smiling.

“I'm yours,” The words came out easier than you could've expected.

“That's my love,” He praised, satisfied him as you closed the distance and kissed you.

This kiss was different from those before. It was no longer a whisper of a touch, instead it was deep and claiming. The city lights kept shining, and the night passed by. There was no outside world anymore, though. 

There was only him and you.

taglist: @petersasteria, @sherrayyyyy, @loveesiren

[minh907]

Lost Spirit.

Sung Jinwoo x Ghost Reader

« Chapter 1

______________________________

Jinwoo returned the next night, and the night after that. Days turned into weeks, and slowly, a routine formed.

Every evening, after completing his dungeon raids, he found himself drawn back to the tree, where you would wait. Sometimes, they would sit in silence, watching the city lights flicker in the distance. Other times, they would talk - about meaningless things, about a past you couldn’t remember, about a future Jinwoo wasn't sure he had.

"I think I liked the night," you mused one evening, lying on a branch with your hands behind your head. "It feels familiar… peaceful."

Jinwoo, leaning against the tree, hummed in response. "Makes sense. It’s quiet. No one’s around to bother you."

You chuckled. "Except you."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Through their conversation, Jinwoo slowly pieces together your past. You don't remember much, but you say you probably saw something glowing from within your chest before your world went dark.

But it doesn't help him much.

All he knows now is your name, you're dead, and you're stuck here for some reason. It's probably related to the light you mentioned.

Maybe he can ask the system? Or if he's higher up, he can do something to find out more about you.

But the strange thing is that all his efforts to find out about you seem to be in vain. It looks like your information has been blocked, the system says he doesn't have permission to access it.

This made him frown. Who are you? Why does all information about you seem to have completely covered up?

He wondered if you were really harmless or if you were a potential danger?

But when he looked at your silly face and your attempts to steal his food but couldn't touch it but only passed through it, he immediately dispelled his doubts.

This ghost knows they can't touch objects, but why they are so stubborn?

After your transparent hand pierced through the food for the nth time, you pouted and complained.

"What a bully, delicious food right in front of me but I can't eat it."

"That's not your food either."

"Your food is also my food, we are friends"

Jinwoo's head was full of black streaks, helpless before the idiot next to him.

You lean back. "Damn. Being stuck here is so annoying. I'd rather just disappear."

"...I'll try to help you."

You giggled, "No need to put so much pressure on yourself. I don't have high hopes either. I'm just happy you came to talk to me."

Jinwoo exhaled slowly, raising his head to the dark sky. The stars twinkled faintly above, indifferent to the questions swirling in his mind.

He had faced countless enemies, conquered dungeons that most hunters would not dare enter, but the mystery of you—this stubborn, sarcastic ghost - was something he could not decipher.

But he would try.

Because despite all logic, despite the lack of answers, he found himself looking forward to these quiet nights, your nagging, your teasing, and the way your presence made him feel strangely… comfortable.

You waved a transparent hand in front of him. "Hey, Earth Jinwoo. You seem to be thinking too much. It’s dangerous for someone like you."

He instinctively slapped your hand, but his fingers only touched air. His lips twitched. "Someone like me?"

"A fight addict." You sneered. "With the emotional range of a rock."

Jinwoo snorted, shaking his head. "I could leave you here, you know."

"But you won't."

"Unfortunately."

You grinned, triumphant. "See? You do like me."

He refused to answer formally. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sandwich, opening it with practiced ease. Out of habit, he tore off a piece and handed it to you before he realized - that's right. You couldn't eat it.

He glanced at your expectant expression before sighing. "… Don’t look at me like that."

"Like what?"

“Like I just took away your last hope.”

"Jinwoo." You clasped your hands together, eyes wide and pitiful. "If you really cared about me, you would find a way to let me eat again."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You’re dead, why would you need food?"

"Ghosts crave food too, you know! I think I used to like sweets… maybe?" You frowned, disappointment flashing across your face. "Ugh, why is my memory so bad?"

Jinwoo looked at you quietly. You rarely showed any cracks, your frustration with your circumstances far exceeded any jokes. But when it did, he felt a strange pressure in his chest - a pressure he couldn't name.

"…I’ll find a way," he whispered. "Maybe I can find a way for you to interact with things again."

Your eyes widened a little before you smiled, soft and comforting. "You really went all this way just so I could steal your food?"

He shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Just to stop you whining about it."

You grinned, and for a moment, the city lights behind you seemed a little brighter.

____________________________

That night, after you had faded away with the first light of dawn, Jinwoo opened his system menu. He didn't expect much, but he still tried once more.

[Error. Insufficient authority to access requested information.]

His eyes narrowed.

If he didn't have permission, that meant someone - something - was keeping the truth hidden from him. But why?

Who were you, really?

Jinwoo clenched his fists. No matter what it took, he would find out.

And maybe - just maybe - he could find a way to help you.

Perhaps after waiting until he can change careers, he can access some information.

________________________

To be continue. ________________________

Chapter 3 »

Sorry but I got lazyyyyyyy

[fleuriion]

✦ Forget Me Not synopsis ; when the blue colored petals bloomed into spring, a memory was made ; the centuries old mydeimos pays not much attention to the early memories of his childhood aside from how it demonstrated the foolish deeds of kremons' former rulers. However, he was certain that it wasn't what's left of it. ���⸝ gn reader ⸝⸝ english not being my first language ⸝⸝ might be ooc ⸝⸝ my first time writing in fic format this is so horrible ⸝⸝ reader is the little soul at the beginning segment of the fic ⸝⸝ a concept with the sea of souls i thought of ⸝⸝ wc:

Mydeimos had spent his entire childhood roaming in the world of sea among the lingering souls. What was once a prince whose fated to inherit the glory of his proud people now reduced to an exile, a body floating in the sea waiting for death to reap and embrace him, a nobody. Mydei remembers not much of that sullen childhood of his, "it's nothing worth discussing," he retorts when questioned. However, it was only when he stumbled on a bunch of thoughtfully cared Forget Me Nots with their delicate petals that the prince was proven wrong, and once again, seems to be reminded of something valuable. A memory worth recalling. Years, decades, and centuries ago, the fragile body of child Mydeimos was casted off the cliff by his own tyrant father into the Sea of Souls. Where the last he could hear before he landed on the roaring sea were the sound of blades clashing against each other, battle cries, before finally a deafening silence. The same kind Mydeimos had not the pleasure to experience in the sea. The prince sunk into the sea for years, whereas at this point, the remains of sailors ― who had the misfortune of getting their ships crashed by the waves of the sea sat in the depth of the darkness under the water ― are now alike to what the kids his age on the surface call 'friends.' Day and night were spent by him slaughtering and quite literally ensuring his own survival. Shrimps and shellfishes are akin to candies and lollipops to little Mydei. Alongside child Mydei's daily wrestle with the creatures down the sea, it's no rare occurrence for him to watch some souls passing by, some are lost, some are curious, some are hostile, but they're all similarly just looking for a way to their next lives. "Eeep!" A small yelp echoed through the river, and without doubt, through Mydei. Are there someone of his age here? Why would they be bathing in the bone chilling water of the Sea of Souls? Upon turning around, Mydeimos was greeted with the sight of another beastly being hunting down what seems to be a lost soul judging by the faint light it emanated and the spirit-like air around them. Mydeimos never knew why himself. A fisherman, and now a soul that he's saving? Why would he ― a Kremnoan, who are known for their selfish and brutish reputation ― rescue people, beings, creatures, that never does seem to offer a meaning to him? Unfortunately, despite being a frail and deserted child, his body and instincts moved quicker than his mind could ever reason and answer. With a swift move, the prince pierced the back of the deep sea beast with his own self-made weapon before it could be alarmed of his presence. Another roar that's much more alike to a cry of pain was pushed out of the beast's throat before its now deceased body limps back down to the sea, waiting for the sea to devour its remains. The sea was once again quiet, a deafening kind alas. One that the prince had gotten accustomed to. The soul of what seems to be another young child around his age, peeked with an eye, lifting their eyelid reluctantly as if to sense whether or not the threat had dissipated. The relief the little soul felt when the monstrous beast was gone soon evaporated off their body with the sight of the blonde haired prince staring through their soul (literally) blankly. His lips blue from the temperature of the sea water he deals with daily, his blonde hair puddled with a hint of pink-ish red. Yet, his eyes lacked no less fire in them as he stares down the little soul. ".. Who are you?!" The little soul eyed the Kremnoan prince up and down, if he can even see them (nothing goes by his eyes you swear!) The fierce looking prince uttered not a responsive word to them for a moment. Not the talkative kind huh.. But that does not make him less of a threat! The little soul thought. So they urged once again. "Seriously..! State your identity! Before I- uh―" You stumble around, before picking up a bone larger of size than the average human's and getting into a random fighting stance cautiously, "―before I use this bone to.. To slay you!"

Mydeimos was once again silent, except this time he's not only silent, but also baffled one or a way. In a way that screams "how could an idiot arrive at this battlefield and still survive?" Well, he supposes you are a soul. ".. Mydeimos." The young prince finally replied, albeit dryly, but hey it's better than nothing! Upon seeing his what seems to be reluctant compliance to your little question-followed-up-by-threat, the little soul lowered their glorious looking weapon that is totally not a dried bone. Despite the hesitance they display, they expressed their gratitude the way others would normally. "... I see.. Thank you for saving me earlier, Mydeimos.." The air was a little thick between the two of them― with the little soul not knowing what to say, and with Mydeimos whose generally not a big talker. Before the prince could break the silence and offer them the way they might be seeking, the sound of the tides receding caught both the prince and the little soul's attention― this means a hopeful search for food for Mydeimos, and the soul.. They're just curious like kids normally. When they insisted to follow along, Mydeimos once again reluctantly yet somewhat begrudgingly agreed, just to get them off his hair― he'll lend them a hand to navigate into their next life's way anyway. Scavenging some shrimps and shellfishes up, the blonde prince finally had a little time for himself and his daily food, if those could even be called food. They taste questionable, but he'll settle with what's there. A brief testament to how life thrives regardless. The little soul took a little space next to Mydeimos, eyeing the 'goods' he's eating. "You're eating raw sea animals?" They questioned, to which the prince responded to not even a single twitch of his face as he chew on them. ".... They're all I have" Mydeimos responded straightforwardly in between his chewing. The little soul glanced from the animal he's feasting on, then to the prince. "That's a shame.. Why are you here, Mydeimos? You're missing out on the sweets and candies!" The prince paused for a second, as if hesitating, before his face went back to showing not a single predictability. ".. I was casted here by my father" That earned a little sympathy from the little soul, despite how if they were to express it, the what seems to be courtesy would be rejected by the prince. To think that a young child like him was casted off a cliff by his own father.. How cruel! Before the little soul could open their mouth again, Mydeimos took the initiatives this time. "Why are you here? As a soul?" Well, since he seems curious and really really wants to know.. The kind hearted little soul will tell him! "I got into an accident.. All I remembered was my entire body throbbing and my eyes were blurry because of my tears! Then, I found myself here when I woke up." Mydeimos could only stay silent, once again for the millionth time. Perhaps it's reluctance, perhaps it's ignorance, or even apathy. Both the little soul and Mydeimos hangs by each other's side for another while. The prince had never thought that someone's company could be this.. Lovely, and he felt the burden of always staying alarmed of the beasts around him slightly lightened by the presence of the little soul. When the time the grim reaper ask for the little soul's presence finally came, the little soul reached into the dark water and grabbed what seems to be a soggy stalk of flower floating among it before finally offering it to the prince. "This is a Forget Me Not! My memories are blurry, but I remember a florist relative of mine telling me that this flower means remembrance!" Young Mydeimos exhibited an air of uncertainty around him before finally grabbing the wet stalk of Forget Me Not from the little soul's hand. "Oh yeah! I haven't told you my name. It's [Name], and you won't forget me, would you?" The little soul gifted the young warrior a grin ― one that made him realize that a smile could beam such ray ― before waving goodbye to him. From then on, the flower was a symbo

the flower acted as a symbol of hope, and a source of strength. Even Mydeimos was surprised that a single wet stalk of mere flower could be so strong for him.

Time had passed, and while the once beautiful petals of that Forget Me Not had withered, the little soul's impact and presence in Mydeimos' life never. They burned the fire even brighter in the warrior.

Snapped out of his reminisce, Mydei had to blink his eyes a few times before realizing he had spaced out while doing so; something so uncharacteristic of him.

"Are you still entranced by Forget Me Nots? Had fun reminiscing?"

A voice― a familiar voice called out to him. While he admittedly was caught off guard, Mydei only lets a small chuckle out upon his slack this one time.

"It was long long ago and lifetimes ago for you, yet you still remember?" Mydei found himself partially exasperated every time they tease him about the memories of these silly flowers. The sight of you, standing next to him now despite the predicament of your first ever meeting, was something he never expected back then yet never complained about. Fate really does know how to play its game.

"Of course I do. It may be lifetimes ago, but I would never forget anything about you, my dear prince" You picked a stalk of the breathtaking Forget Me Not before tucking it behind the warrior's ear.

Mydei could only click his tongue with a hint of annoyance―one that is harmless and away from his wrath, one that only you could have the pleasure to provoke.

"Stop calling me that in public."

Regardless of the irritation the warrior expressed, Mydei lifted a hand up and pressed his lips on your knuckles, a gentle kiss just as gentle as the breeze blowing softly around you two. You only responded to that with a grin, the same beaming grin the little soul he knew had long long time ago.

Time does fleet and even weapons rust, but some things really don't change. Mydei feared not, for he knows that as long as spring continues to come, you will always remember him and you will always find each other― just like how Forget Me Nots continue to bloom their colorful petals, where with each petal, a memory was made.

© fleuriion ― please refrain from ; plagiarizing, ai usage, repost without credits ― positive interactions are always welcome! ✦ small add-on ; sorry if this is so bad I didn't know how to write fics TT

[rickgrimesdoingrickthings]

"Yes, I love hugging you." His cheeks still were flushing red. "I love...everything about you. I fell in love and every minute with you I love you more, and I'm not joking. I want to spend my life with you." He smiled when she pecked his lips and closed his eyes when she nuzzled their noses- he absolutely loved it, he did it as well, feeling their bond strengthen even more, Rick loved her love language, and when she stopped, he briefly rested his forehead against hers.

Rick listened carefully as she spoke, melting at her words, giving her as soft smile- she wouldn't judge him...that made him feel...lighter. "Okay...I'll keep that in mind...- you might find I'm too...cheesy though...." His voice had never been softer as well, he was relaxing enough to show her his true self- someone sensible who wanted to bond and share love. That was Rick's essence; it was simple and sweet and peaceful, and so underestimated by others.

He smiled when she leaned to kiss his neck- it felt so good, he was feeling loved after all. It sent shivers down his neck, made him feel numb almost, and his skin all senstive.

"Yeah, when you move. We've just done it, so I get all sensitive for a while; we've done it quite a lot...which is...good...and....- aaahnm-" He wasn't expecting she would move her hips again- Rick blushed all over again, his nipples got hard and his lips parted at the pleasure. Wow...she was...actually being a little dominant. He loved it- he loved to share dominance, to give her space to do what she wanted to him- feeling Wren on him felt like heaven, made him feel he belonged to her, all of him, and that made him feel crazy for her.

"I always want you Wren." The way he rested his head against her chest as he answered seemed so adorable- the tone of his voice and the load of affection he put in every word- it strongly hinted sex was just a detail compared with what he wanted- Rick was such a romantic. "What I'm doing to you?" He chuckled shyly. "I'm just...loving you." Rick smiled, nuzzling against her- he seemed very happy.

"Mnm....I love you too." He answered, his voice so honest, he was so calm and relaxed around her- and he was so happy it was mutual. "Okay...I'll stop...- but I'm being honest...you saved me...and...I'm so happy I can...make you feel good..." he muttered. Indeed, he did worship her- in a healthy way.

"Don't worry, I'll talk to Carl about it. He really likes you, Wren, I doubt he would dislike the idea of us being together." Then he chuckled as she said she wasn't ready to get off him. "I also like your noises..." he replied, melting at her touches, her hands feeling all of him, it relaxed and excited him at the same time- he absolutely loved her caresses, they made him want to purr again, groan in pleasure. "I also love everything about you. Every detail." That man was really in love. Her words meant the world to him.

"Uhn? Don't hate you? For wha-" He arched his head back and took a deep breath when she started having him- he really wasn't expecting it, what made it even hotter- his cock was still so sensitive due to their recent love making- he imagined they would just cuddle but damn, feeling her on him taking control, enjoying him, fucking him...- that took him to the moon.

He just couldn't move his eyes for a while, panting in pleasure as she moved her hip up and down. "....I....I also love when you fuck me like this...really..." Rick said between trembling breaths, surrendering to her. "I also want you to have me...Wren...I want you to claim me too...I'm all yours..." he was blushing hard, but not because he was ashamed- he was just so happy, it felt so intimate- and he had never shared such an intense connection with anyone-

As she moved her hip, his tip quickly got wetter inside her- he came a little bit, lubrificating them more, taking him to heaven as she kept having him- she was tight around him, every time she moved he felt his cock being pulled a little and getting massaged back into her, it got him moaning every time she went up and down, he really couldn't decide what part of it was better. "Wren...ahnmm....it's so good...." He whispered as his body arched back, all of him so sensitive. If was his first time getting topped by a woman, not having to do all the job, and it felt absolutely amazing, being fucked by her- he could just do nothing...just relax and surrender...and let her enjoy him and do it her way- he loved it. He was surprised at how good it was, not being the one leading it, just being fucked by her, it was new and so sweet- the way she moved up and down would make him come bit by bit, giving him some orgasm every time she tightened around him, not all at once but a bit every time she had him.

@littlewrensx

"I love to cuddle. I'll definitely cuddle you every night. And every morning I can. You might even ask me to let go of you a little bit when you find out how hugging you makes me feel."

Rick felt calm, loved, safe, he felt special and in love. And with that love being corresponded, he felt a warm sensation in his chest and so much happiness.

When she grinned and asked him why he had cursed, he blushed and smiled, his lips pouting a little. "Yes...yes it's what I wanted." He hid his face against her and chuckled silently, so happy they were together, so happy she had accepted his love, his cheeks still so red whenever she grinned at him, or teased. "...it's...that...every time you move...- I...it...it hits...strong." His cheeks got even warmer when he heard himself trying to explain it. He was falling for it wasn't he? Maybe she just wanted to hear from him that she could fuck really good and make him go crazy. But he felt that saying in such way could sound...a bit rude or...too blunt...?

"Y...yes...it's what I wanted." He looked down to where their parts were connected, that warmth still so present in his face, even his nose getting red now- specially after seeing her breasts so close, so hard, so pretty- all of her. He let another soft moan escape when he contemplated their position, when he felt her hands running over him. "Mnm...yes....please do that..." he whispered, looking down, hiding his face a little, still a bit timid around her, specially when she touched him- some spots were really sensible- he was still too timid to ask her to caress them, so he would just let her find them out.

"I'm not naive anymore to believe in heroes and such...but...you are my hero." he smiled, eyes so in love for her. "You're my light, Wren...you...gave me my world back..." he whispered to her.

"Fine...he's ditching you...a little. But...he...he'll come back. He told me a lot about you during dinner when you were busy and I was still eating. We could play cards all together next time so you two can teach me." He was realizing how happy he was...and how it had been such a long time he hadn't felt that way.

"Scarred? Oh no...I locked the door and closed the curtains so no one shows up here. Christ no, don't even make me imagine that-" Rick giggled sheepshly. Wren had called him love...

...

His heart even beat faster.

"When I do...what? I'm just...relaxing my troat and...groaning..." The sound was very similar to some weird purring though. "You're running your hands all over me...while...having me...still...and...warm...holding me..." His eyes met hers. "Mnngh...it...it's so good...it feels so good...Wren..." He kissed her neck, exchanging the caresses, hands feeling her sides and ribs, slowly cupping and feeling her breasts and chest, moving his hands to carress her back and give it soft scratches.

[ajstruecolors]

MY HEADCANON TIMELINE FOR THE TROLLS UNIVERSE ✨

Details below the break 🫶

So, we start with BroZone's final concert/when the band split up! Branch is definitely a toddler but young enough to be perceived as a baby. So, I headcanon him as around 2 years old, on the cusp of turning 3.

Then about a years later (a little less) his grandma gets taken away from him/the trolls flee the Troll Tree. He's almost 4 years old now, but not quite.. why?

Becauseeee! I headcanon that during the events of the first movie, Branch is 23. And because Trolls happens exactaly 20 years since the escape, then that means Branch would need to be 20 years younger. And then we get 3 years old when he and the others escape :)

Now, Trolls Holiday happens a year after Trolls because it went from one Trollstice to the next.

There's only a few months between Trolls Holiday and TWT because any longer than that and I don't think Poppy would doubt how good of a queen she is. Poppy's insecurities, I think, come from her not being in her queenly position for too long and so she's worried she hasn't done enough by the time TWT rolls around (a big motivator for her to go on that adventure, to prove herself). So Trolls World Tour happens about a year and a few months (maybe 5 or 6) after the first Trolls movie.

Now, we know that Trolls Band Together happens a month after Trolls World Tour because Tiny is a month old in TBT. But I believe that Trolls Holiday in Harmony in the week before TBT, because ofc Poppy would go from one massive celebration to another, that just makes sense to me.

Onto the ages!!

So the reason I have two ages for each character from Trolls World Tour and onwards is because we gotta put birthdays into consideration. IF one of their birthdays fall between Trolls World Tour and Trolls Band Together then their ages would skew a little.

AND YEAH! THAT'S IT!

Agree or disagree, I don't mind because this is just my personal headcanon. Thank you for coming to my TED talk lmaooo

[1uniqueee]

HOW I MANIFEST ANYTHING I WANT INSTANTLY! ❤️‍🔥

03/19/2025

So today I was so hungry, I didn’t spend any money since I’m learning to save my money & practice discipline, now don’t get me wrong I’ve been battling with temptation like thoughts regarding splurging but at what cost ??? So today I just affirm right before I left the house that someone will buy me something to eat, I wanted some chips to bad & as much as I tried to fight that thought of going to get them, I went anyways. While I was in the store I bumped into a father and daughter duo in their late ages & they gave me some wisdom on life & stuff of that sort in the midst of that they offered to pay for my chips, without a doubt in mind they paid for my things and I didn’t have to spend a dime! That’s because the universe, the world is literally working in MY FAVOR ALL THE TIME! Based on circumstances I had the money to pay for it myself but yet instead I persisted and affirmed myself for like 5 minutes as I was laying down before leaving the house that someone was going to buy me something to eat & pay for my things & BOOM JUST THAT INSTANTLY I got my things paid for without having to break any financial goals I set for myself, this world is your oyster literally, affirm and believe all things will work out for you!

Lucky Woman Affirmations:

I take time out of my day to script as well so yes! I do put in effort & the universe works in my favor, don’t persist but sit around, for an example don’t say “ I will win the lottery” yet instill you don’t go out and play that scratch off or play the lottery.. put in effort & the universe delivers the rest! Pretty simple.

—

- I’m such a lucky woman

- I get all of my things PAID for, just because

- I get spoiled in any environment I step into

- people love paying for my things

- I am so lucky, I live a lucky life

- My luck is always amplifying every day!

—

Now those are just examples, you can create your own with more detail but like I said I script often throughout the day & constantly persist so my scripting and affirmations are detailed and intensified in my own special way!

Below is the chips I INSTANTLY manifested !

—

If you have any results of your own personal manifestations please drop them in the comments section below for others to see how good the law works!

[spiritkissin]

she

(dean winchester x fem!reader)

cw : none really ^_^

wc : 843

Dean was… confused. He had never had dreams like this. Had never had this feeling. This feeling like someone was watching him, just outside of his sight or something. It was almost warm, this feeling, like a hug. Or like perfectly manicured nails scratching down his back at night.

His dreams were repetitive, they’d start and end the same every night. Dean tried to make sense of it. he tried to speak, to run and scream in these dreams, but it was like his body was being held down, like someone was laying atop him.

Dean would find himself waking up in bed, but this wasn’t his bed. Not his usual shitty motel bed that always managed to have a broken spring. This wasn’t his room. There was no tacky wall art or nearly-broken, buzzing air conditioners. This was a nice bedroom, with a large comfortable bed.

The body next to Dean was warm, her body just draped over deans, arm over his chest. No matter how many times Dean lived through this dream, he never got used to that feeling. That softness.

The mornings went the same, he woke the woman up, and she woke their kids up. Two boys and a girl, of course. That was the way Dean had always pictured it.

He would make sure the kids got to school okay before returning back home. And there you were, waiting for him.

Dean had gotten used to this routine, he liked to play pretend. He liked knowing that he had an escape from the world. He had you, he adored you. So he allowed himself to fall deeper into his dreams, into this little game of house, this pretend world.

God, every night he was entranced. With your bright smile and hair that just seemed to always fall so perfectly, it made him wonder if any of this was real.

But then the night came, and there you were. You were still with him, you always were. You rested any doubts in his mind, you reassured him and loved him just the way he needed. The way your soft lips met his, the way your fingers interlaced with his.

Dean loved you. And he didn’t even know your name.

A part of him always looked forward to the night, being able to dream, being able to see you after a long day of hunting was his medicine. So much so that he started daydreaming about you, zoning out in the impala while Sam rambled on and on about some stupid lore.

He would imagine scenarios with you, you in his bed, you reassuring him and calming him down from his alcohol induced tantrums. he wondered how different his life would be if you were real.

I mean, sure you were real. You had to be. Dean had figured that dreams were just translated reality, so there had to be some version of you out there for him.

for him. just him.

He heard you in his dreams, your low and sweet voice in his ear , assuring him that you were real. “It doesn’t matter who I am, Dean. I’m here for you. see? Im real.” You’d murmur, nails tracing down his cheek while you lied skin to skin.

Even when he was awake he heard you, Dean coulda sworn he could hear you calling out to him. But when he looked around, no one was there. He could always feel your presence, the warmth of your body stuck out to him like a sore thumb.

“Hey, you listening?” Sam’s voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts. And there he was again, driving down some country road with Sam in the passenger seat. Deans fingers tightened around the steering wheel, glancing over at Sam. “Uh yeah. I’m fine. Where are we?” He’d asked, looking in the rear view. Sometimes Dean would like to imagine that you’d just appear, in the backseat, or by his side, or even in his bed, or in the shower.

But you never did. Even out of sight, you were never out of mind.

“Just 13 miles outside of Port orchard— you sure you’re going the right way?” Sam spoke, a hint of question in his tone. He knew when Dean was distracted, he had told Sam about this mystery woman that kept visiting him. “I know my way around a damn map, sam.” Dean huffed, eyes focusing back on the road in front of him.

“Sure, sure. I just didn’t know if I was distracting you from your dream lady.” Sam teased, smiling down at the old book in his lap.

The rest of the ride into town seemed like forever, Dean couldn’t focus. His mind kept racing with thoughts of you. He couldn’t handle it. And as they drove into town, Deans emerald eyes glanced around the nearly empty city sidewalks for anything suspicious.

And just when he thought everything was fine, Dean nearly slammed on the breaks.

A woman. Walking down the side walk.

he drove past. you.

he drove right past you.

an; lmk if I should do more music themed writings !!

[linkonsgossipmc]

I know I’m not a big author but I genuinely enjoyed the interaction here on Tumblr with the love and deepspace community. However, I need to say goodbye. I’m tired of this company and playing the game leaves a bad aftertaste. I don’t think the company will change its ways, maybe address something because they are apparently in some trouble in China (just heard it, not 100% confirmed) but other than that, I doubt it. Even if Infold does a 180 the disrespect I felt since march 2024 left some scars.

Otome games are one of my escapes from the real world. I mean, who doesn’t want to get cuddled by a person after a long ass day? I’m also someone who was never someone’s first choice, so it was nice having a male character choosing MC aka the representation of me. I did spent a good amount of money and time into my account and it came to a point where I did instalment payments each month because in my mind “This Love Interest would want it”…yeah I had a bad parasocial relationship with Rafayel but hey, you grow and learn each day. If we go by my parasocial thinking Rafayel would try and slap me into reality to not give this company who disrespects me as a player so much.

I genuinely love the characters. This hurts me so much to delete this game but I know it’s for the better for my mental health and for my wallet.

I wish you all that stay a good time and hope that Infold changes their management but this is my goodbye🩷

[poisonsage808]

streak of bad luck

John Munch x Reader

He always got what he wanted and, to your sudden change of luck, it seemed he very much wanted you.

warnings: black cat reader, you’re so unlucky (sorry babes) past abusive relationship, lingering trauma, hurt/comfort, reader gets mugged, munch crashout, happy ending always

"A trial run?" You echoed.

"Yeah, y'know, that test people do to see if-"

"I know what a trial run is, John, I just..." know I'll fuck it up; know you'll hate it; know you'll hate me after. You swallow the doubt that creeps into your voice, wringing your fingers until he takes them and holds them to his chest. He always knows how to soothe you.

"Finish your thought, honey." He prompts softly, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm worried. I don't want you to get sick of me."

John laughs lightly, not trying to be cruel but you want to shrink away from the sound all the same. His arms come to collect you, keep you together and by his side. He kisses the top of your head hard, like he wants the affection to take root in your brain.

"That won't happen, baby, trust me. With my track record, you’ll be the one running for the hills.”

You gasp at his awful joke, especially knowing there’s truth to it, brows pulling together in unfathomable horror, “I would not!”

And that pleases him to hear, he kisses your cheek so sweetly you’ll have to go to the dentist for the toothache he singlehandedly caused.

“Then there’s no reason not to try, is there?”

Lips part but no argument follows, you’re genuinely stumped on a defense. Everything you might want to suggest suddenly crumbles on your tongue and instead tastes like a shared kitchen and minty sweet kisses goodnight. Besides, you know every reason you could throw at him would be batted away like he was a World Series champion. He always got what he wanted and, to your continuous change of luck with him, it seemed he very much wanted you.

You gnawed the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a moment longer, “You promise you’ll let me know if it’s not working for you?”

“Promise,” John holds his hand up like a boy scout yet keeping that air of sincerity to him, “I’ll always be honest with you.”

That was months ago. You lost track of how many on account of the fact you were keeping tally of the great number of fuck ups and inconveniences instead. Like washing a shirt that was supposed to go to the dry cleaners, like closing the door on his tie, like stepping on his expensive shoes— how could you be so clumsy with his attire, they’re only the most important things to him! Dumbly burning your hand and letting his coffee pot shatter on the ground, sending him into a brief panic. Ruining dinner because the recipe called for four teaspoons of spice and not tablespoons, practically inedible even for his tolerance. Making him late for work because you couldn’t find your keys and later realizing they were in your pocket the whole time, even though you swore you checked no less than fifty times. Forgetting to do stupid things like turning off the lights, cleaning one spot, the damn grocery list.

The worst was when you locked yourself out of the flat with the stove on. Your day was horrible and your brain was fried and you still aren’t quite clear on how it happened but with your never ending bad luck you aren’t shocked! He thinks it’s funny now but when he got a call it looked like someone was breaking into his apartment, he was scared out of his mind. It was the one time he hoped, prayed, you weren’t there. Throwing his car into park, crooked and half on the sidewalk, John ran over to where the officers stood next to you. They explained what you did, how you’d locked yourself out but your name wasn’t on the lease so they didn’t believe you. It was reasonable, wasn’t it?

His face switched comically fast when he saw the handcuffs around your wrists.

He sent you inside to spare you but you could hear through the door. He was loud when he was mad, his quick witted snarky profanities had nothing on the infinity train of insults he rammed into those uniforms. Shocked wasn’t strong enough, you were nearly fully convinced he was lying— at the very least embellishing as he’s prone to do— when he admitted he had a bit of a temper issue. Your heartbeat was louder still in your ears, a warning drum. You didn’t mean to flinch when John joined you inside, you didn’t mean to cry, you didn’t mean to back away, you didn’t mean for the apologies to fly out of your mouth the way they did. He looked pained when you held your arm out as if it could keep him from coming closer. Of course it did, because how could you not know he would always listen.

Every time you expect his wrath, prepared to receive it in any way it would come, he reaches for your shoulders so carefully that you wonder if you had the power to slow time. “Sweetheart,” he says in that tone you love and hate, the one that can’t forgive you because what could be there to forgive, so soft it makes you want to cry, “it was an accident.” And after eleven months exactly— oh look, you do remember— you think you’d get used to it, eventually it would sink in that John Munch is never going to hurt you in any conceivable way.

“What are you thinkin’ over there?”

You blink at yourself in the mirror, then at John leaning in the doorway. Ready and dressed for work, hair slicked back meticulously and suit pressed to perfection, he was devastatingly handsome. Maybe it was just the lost look in your eyes that made you feel less put together today, but he looked at you like he always did. Radiant. When your confidence was lacking, he lent you some of his because lord knows he has more than enough to spare.

“Did you know it’s been eleven months?” You ask, turning around to match his ease and lean on the counter, “Since we, well, y’know, not technically moved in together.”

Because you hadn’t, not really. A good portion of your stuff was here but you still went back to your apartment… once in a blue moon. In your absence you think a spider might’ve moved in.

John knew how to boil a frog. He put up with you living out of a suitcase for a week, if that, then put your clothes away in his dresser. He noted, not unkindly, that you were doing laundry frequently, maybe you should bring over more clothes. When work got busy and he ended up coming home later, he casually suggested moving over your hobbies so you wouldn’t be bored waiting for him. Did you know he really liked that painting you had in your apartment? So much so that he made a space for you to hang it up in his. He surprised you by stocking the fridge and pantry with things you, and only you, liked.

And he smiles, really smiles, because he absolutely did know that and isn’t it just so perfect that you brought it up!

“Not that I believe in cosmic signs but I do think that might be the universe trying to tell you somethin’, sweetheart. Quit wasting money on that place, you’re over here all the time now.”

“Not all the time,” you mumbled, averting your eyes as if looking for the last time you even thought about going there. ‘There’ and not ‘home’ because his place transformed into a shared one somewhere between all those disasters.

His careful steps closer are not unlike the ones he takes when he thinks you’re going to crack if he so much as looks at you wrong.

“Admit it,” he cages you against the counter, kissing the crown of your head, “trail run’s over. Time to move in. I can get off early today,” a kiss to your temple, “we’ll pack the rest of your stuff and drop off the notice,” your nose, “go out to celebrate?”

John always gave you space to say no, always made sure you knew he wouldn’t be mad if you did. However it was more of a question than he was willing to admit, you almost forgot that in his alluring cloud of confidence. His tone bled with hope because it’s not the first time he’s suggested it.

“I—” You huff, try to breathe air and not the infectious hope. Being pragmatic was proving to be a struggle, “I want to.”

He’s painfully patient, running a hand up and down your arm, “But?”

You swallow, “No buts… I want to. Let’s move in together.”

You thought it was just an expression, but his eyes sparkle at your agreement. Someone else might think he’d won the jackpot with the way he was beaming.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! I mean, if you’re sure.”

You’re ass on the counter before you can blink. His mouth is on yours, sending a jolt of energy up your spine and it’s not from the taste of coffee! He’s sure, he’s so sure and he wants to show you how damn sure he is. You’re so dizzied by the passionate kiss that you forget what you even agreed to. John gets a little carried away, excitedly murmuring things he absolutely should not be before you both have to work.

“Baby!” You squeak as he pops the button on your pants, “We have to leave in—“ you take his watch off the counter and point the proof at him, “15 minutes!”

Humming, he nods feverishly like he really and truly understands. Behind his glasses, his eyes work overtime to find a solution for the massively inconvenient problem you reminded him about. He figures it out because he always does when he really wants something.

“Do me a favor, honey,” he winds the belt of said watch around your wrist and fastens it securely, kissing your palm, shoulder, ear, “tell me when it gets to 10.”

~

It all happened so fast. He hates that, he’s sick of hearing that expression. They’re cliches because they’re true, though. One minute you’re walking— no, floating— to the police department, more than ready to take that next step with your boyfriend. Butterflies tickle your insides with their pretty wings every time you think about it, making you involuntarily smile.

That must’ve been it.

You must’ve been looked too happy, too pleased with everything. Higher powers were surely warring over your good fortune, one of them isn’t on the same page as the rest because you’re supposed to be horribly, miserably unlucky in all departments. John wasn’t meant for you and, really, you should’ve known. His affections were marvelous and magical and easy. God, it was so easy to fall in love with him. Nothing was easy for you, you always had to learn the hard way.

“Gimme your wallet and you can walk away.”

Something you don’t see, can’t register, rests between your shoulder blades. Even through your clothes it’s cold and sends a shiver out to the rest of your body, effectively freezing you.

“I said gimme your wallet.”

Wordlessly, you fumble for it. You make the incredibly fucking stupid mistake of handing it to your mugger and not throwing it far like John told you to.

“The watch, too.”

In your fear induced rush of adrenaline you didn’t understand, the words hit your ear but didn’t compute. You don’t wear a watch, you don’t have one to give him. Then the weight of it around your wrist is so heavy your arm wants to pop out of its socket and fall off entirely. The watch— his watch.

“No.” The word dumbly crashes off your tongue, practically a question.

The weapon, whatever it was, was made quick and painful jab to the side of your head, the connection spinning both you and your head. You stumbled against the side of a brick wall, keeping your eyes downcast because that’s what you used to do to when you were hit.

“I ain’t asking, gimme the damn watch.”

Unconsciously, your hand wrapped over it as if to hide what you both knew already existed.

It wasn’t yours to give, you shouldn’t even be wearing it! What if you had cracked it or wo— well, actually, this would qualify as a worst case scenario, wouldn’t it? You risked a glance at the ground by your assailant. Cargo pants licked against bright red sneakers, information you could trade later to redeem yourself. Only, you had to be alive to do that.

Horribly ashamed and teary eyed, you unbuckle the leather.

~

You swallow hard on the lump in your throat but it won’t go away. It just sits there, undecided, waiting to choke you or send you into tears. John didn’t get off work for another five minutes and you, in your hilariously foolish streak, thought that you could quietly reporting the mugging.

In the precinct your boyfriend worked at, around people that recognized you immediately, to someone that knew him by name.

The officer took his darn time going over the questions with you, looking for a pen for you to fill out your contact information when John bursted in. His wild eyes searched until they found you, then he was over in two sweeps of his long legs. You hated that your impulse was to back away, you had to force yourself to be impossibly still as his hand leapt forward, but he caught that tiny jump.

His hand curled into a fist and fell just before he touched you.

“You’re bleeding— Why are you bleeding? What happened?”

Brown eyes, usually so soft and comforting, were murderously locked on the side of your head. You went to cover the wound that offended him, the aching bump on your temple but the light touch might as well have been a full press. You hissed and pulled away. Flakes of dried blood dusted your fingers. You didn’t even notice.

“Can—“ you inhaled sharply, eyes darting all around at the people who were starting to stare, “Can we not talk here?”

Sending a pointed glare all around, John didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Still, he mumbled “we done here?” to the officer who nodded even though you hadn’t filled out the form. Without touching he put his arm around you and angled himself as a shield, ushering you out of the building.

You had practiced everything you were going to say on the rest of that shameful walk to the precinct. You’d explain, apologize, offer to replace the watch, and then maybe he wouldn’t be so upset! Out the corner of your eye he seethed like a quiet moment before thunder boomed and lightning struck. And you forgot everything.

He barely made it halfway through the parking lot before he turned around, kicking a tire of a car. His hands threaded his hair like he was grasping for a shred of composure even though he’d already lost it. To you, he gestures up and down with a hardened expression that makes you feel smaller than ever.

“What happened!? I had to hear from Lewis that you walked into the station with a bruise? Why didn’t you come straight to me!?”

Ever since the incident, he always tried to protect you from his temper. He’d go on walks, presumably to hit something outside, or to the bar to yell at someone there. He doesn’t bring his rage through the front door. John never so much as raised his voice at you until now.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“Don’t be—!?” He cuts himself off with a curt breath, shaking his head, “You can’t ask me that, you just can’t! Look at you! What the hell happened!?”

You blink, searching the ground trying to find air but there’s none.

“I lost your watch.”

“What?”

You wince at his incredulous tone, crossing your arms to protect yourself from his ire.

“I got mugged. I didn’t throw my wallet like you said to an-and the watch, your watch, he asked for it and I said no. But then he hit me and I didn’t have a choice!”

He clenched his jaw so tight you swore any second that you’d hear a crack of a tooth. His eyes were dark, yet ablaze like a wild forest fire.

“You—“ He scoffed, smiling sardonically at the sky. Sliding his hands under his glasses, he dragged them down as he sighed heavily, like he was trying to come back down to Earth, “My watch? Why? Why would you do something so incredibly reckless!?”

Tears sting at your eyes again but this time you can’t keep them at bay, they flood and pour over. You dig your nails into your skin.

“I just.. I didn’t know what else to.. I’m sorry, I’ll pay you ba—“

He crosses what little distance there is too fast, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

You’re enveloped in a crushing embrace. John presses you to his chest like he wants you to move in, you can hear his rapid heartbeat right under your ear.

“Baby, I don’t give a fuck about the damn watch! I care that you’re hurt! You were mugged, and you didn’t wanna tell me that first!? Jesus Christ. Never scare me like that again, I don’t ever wanna hear from someone else that you got hurt— y’know what, better yet, I don’t want to hear you got hurt at all.”

You feel awful all over. Of course he didn’t care about the watch. Of course the only way he could ever hurt you was by holding on too tight.

“You’re… not mad?”

“Not at you.” He breathes, pulling away slightly to look down at you. “Honey, if you don’t know by now how much you mean to me then I’m doing something very wrong here. You’re the one thing I could never replace.”

He cradles your face with a gentleness that fills you with guilt, how could you ever think he would hurt you? That fire in his eyes was fueled by fear the whole time, you didn’t notice it because of your own. John ghosts his thumb around the bump at your temple and you feel every little movement before it even happens.

“Are you hurt anywhere else? Should we go to the hospital?” He shook his head right after the question left his lips, deciding himself, “Yeah, we should. Car, where’s my car.”

He’s looking everywhere but at you as you flounder for words, still attempting to catch up to him. You dig your heels into the gravel as he starts to guide you forward.

This was too easy. He was being too nice, too understanding. He forgave you too easily. He deserved better than a black cat that just happened to cross his path and follow him home.

“John—“

“Don’t argue with me on this, ok? Not now, not ever. You are the single most important thing in my life and you’re…” he sucks in a sharp breath, catching his voice and temper rising again.

His eyes flicker to the side and back but you know where they went. You shift in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him this time. His hands don’t know where to settle for a change, struggling to find a hold that will give him the closest proximity to you.

“Finish your thought.” You say softly.

A weak, proud chuckle leaves him. He’s been working tirelessly to help you unlearn the abuse you went through. It’s always worth it he says, but moments like this are unbelievably special. To both of you.

John’s arms squeeze carefully and he breathes you in like you’re oxygen.

“You’re hurt. Baby,” the fond moniker is so heartbreakingly soft, “you don’t know how badly I never wanted to see you with another bruise.”

“I’m,” you swallow the instinctive apology even though it’s true, you are sorry, “I’m hurt, yes, but.. you’re making it better. Can we just go home?”

The word slipped out before you could snatch it back, making both of you go still.

“Home?” He echoes quietly, thoughtfully, hopefully. Pulling away, just enough to look into your eyes, “You still wanna move in?”

You almost succumb to your doubts, but you persevere and manage a slightly teasing, “I should be asking you that.”

“No,” its immediate and makes your heart swell, “you shouldn’t.”

He leans in slowly, tipping your chin up so he can capture your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. The gesture washes away any lingering worries, replacing them with that delightful buzz you had earlier. John rests his forehead against yours, his smile is infectious.

“We can go home after I make sure you’re not concussed.” He promises.

Knowing your luck, you should’ve seen that coming. There was surely more to be said later, the conversation was left far from unfinished. However you stopped tallying up your misfortunes, deciding right there to erase the mental board on a whole. Because if you really wanted to keep score of something, the focus should be on him. The comforting thought of eventually being home with John would forever be more than enough.

[districtunrest]

ONGOMGOMGOMG. (share thoughts. any n all. you know i need to know. PLEASE!)

HAHA sorry. anyway:

I didn’t really like it and I’m sad about it. ☹️ even though there were some interesting ideas and cool new characters, I was taken out of the story too much to fully enjoy them. it read to me like the laziest (most rushed? least edited?) yet most forced storytelling of the series, which sucks bc it’s supposedly the REAL backstory of my favorite character. but I just couldn’t shake my doubt while reading that this was what we and Katniss were missing all along. too many details (that I memorized by heart as a tween and have made everyone’s problem since) didn't match up, even with the card-stacking*. so I just don't believe this was always the intended ‘real’ story when it’s so hidden from the trilogy... imo, SC went back to it with a mission statement in mind after recent current events (and, more tellingly, after Ballad) and did her thing. which is fine, that's her right - it's just, when this whole book seems more like a writing workshop thought experiment than the intended backstory, I will treat it as such. bc as it stands, all the callbacks & connections & Everlark parallels in the world cannot replace Katniss & Peeta watching the highlight tape of his Games, Haymitch telling them what he did was “almost but not quite” as bad as them with the berries, Katniss finally understanding who he is in that moment, and Haymitch later admitting the loss of his loved ones were because of "that stunt [he] pulled with the forcefield" (which is. simply not true anymore with all of his stunts in and out of the arena). like say no more, that’s good enough for me! it’s what I prefer and what I find more compelling than what’s revealed/subverted in Sunrise. and tbh that discrepancy makes Sunrise unfaithful, at least in my eyes, for all it relies on references to the rest of the series. 

now, obviously I had mixed feelings about this prequel in the first place, and my concerns/reservations mounted with each excerpt, only to be confirmed now... but I did try, okay!?? haha I’d told you and several others privately that I really wanted to like this book and I was willing to set aside my gripes if it was good - but it had to actually be good! instead, the book was exactly what I was afraid it was going to be *and* suffered a drop in quality. I found the narration underwhelming, dumbed down and repetitive, and not evocative of Haymitch's voice. even things I thought there was NO WAY would actually happen and I was just being paranoid - but then they did, lmao. like, it was a letdown for me personally *and* it didn’t even do it well enough where I could at least respect it and oblige, lol

overall, it was just too off for me. by answering and explaining so much, it ended up taking away a lot of the trilogy's charm and intrigue - and did so in a way that left a bad taste in my mouth. it made me view Ballad in a more negative light, too, tbh. so I think going forward I’ll just consider it a weird spinoff that is secondary to the main/trilogy canon. 🤷🏻‍♀️

(some more Haybitching under the cut)

tbh, what guts me the most is what SC chose to do with Haymitch’s voice & character, where she watered him down to what he needed to be for this lesson & this plot. it’s frustrating that the dangerous, cunning, arrogant boy that Katniss sees in the highlight reel and can easily recognize in adult Haymitch is all an act. the character we thought we knew is not present here, sacrificed to make yet another point about propaganda, and that’s a crying shame. and his deterioration in the final chapters is so underwhelming (as are the death scenes 🫣) - I've read that same story countless times but told better by people who love the character as is and weren't on a time crunch for a movie deal, I guess.

Sunrise!Haymitch skews shockingly immature and moralistic and hates the idea of being a sarcastic, selfish “rascal." but since when are we calling surviving and fighting to get home in an unthinkable situation selfish? that’s now assumed in Sunrise’s logic, where instead having a ginormous alliance against the Careers with no exit plan (big ‘WHAT IF ALL THE TRIBUTES BANDED TOGETHER AND DIDN’T FIGHT?’ energy) is much smarter and nobler than going it alone and heading in one direction to get to the edge for no reason other than bc nobody had tried it before and trilogy!Haymitch, we know, is an out-of-box thinker & strategist. I know he & Ambert were operating under the notion that they were going to lose no matter what and had their own plans (which. hmm) but it was just so oddly accepted by the Newcomers, too, who had no such threat from Snow. they were so willing to be selfless martyrs and band together when they all know at the end of the day there can only be one survivor - which was heartening in a way, sure, but it almost seemed trite? and again, needlessly moralistic in an established world like Panem, where these things happen every year...? not even self-righteous (Katniss' words but with Haymitch's backing!) Peeta 'not a piece in their games' Mellark thought so narrowly. Idk. I might have to mull that one over more. but anyway, then Haymitch trying to rescue Maysilee is turned into a mini redemption arc in post, when all it was in the first place was a glimpse into his protective & caring nature underneath all the bravado, which was surely part of Katniss’ deepening understanding of him. but Sunrise wasn’t interested in exploring that, either, or even honoring it. okay

and I can’t get over how SC had to kind of retcon the final pages of Mockingjay to fit Haymitch’s epilogue into it, which didn’t help how it already rang so hollow for me, I hate to say. it’s not even done well, containing the most rushed, wrap-up-everything-before-the-deadline writing I’ve ever seen from SC (and it STILL doesn’t read like Haymitch’s voice to me :/). some things can just be; they don’t need some big, loaded, tragic explanation. Haymitch can glibly call Katniss ‘sweetheart’ once, bc she’s been sullen & hostile to him and he is in fact sarcastic (the horror!), only for it to go on to become an actual term of endearment by the end - like, that’s lovely in and of itself. why weigh it down further? who asked for that? I know I didn’t. 

most insignificantly & pettily of all: geese do mate for life - as in monogamously, meaning they stay together until one of them dies. then, they mourn and find another mate. just putting that out there, lmao

*how tf was Haymitch able to kiss his token and set up a bomb and throw it over the edge and put his token back when we know he was convulsing from shock by the end? to where Silka was able to start staunching her wound as she waited for him to die? if him going into shock was taken from footage anytime after, the arena would've been quaking/on fire around him?? Idk fam. it just feels off.

[veroinfaciem]

After the talk Law feels mentally exhausted. Content that little Cora-san isn't contemplating the possibility of them throwing him out anymore, seas, where did that come from- but his head is heavier than before and that third cup of coffee is sloshing unpleasantly in his otherwise empty stomach.

He wishes for nothing more than a peaceful, quiet nook to hide in, or the vast expanses of some unknown island to stretch his legs on and wander through. None of which is available to him now.

Law enters the upper deck and feels it - a faint trace of uncoated malice biting through air like tiny mosquitoes.

Doflamingo is glaring at him from a few meters afar, the dark pane of his glasses can't conceal that, frustration and displeasure spilled all over his childish face.

Where’s Penguin and Shachi? They were supposed to watch over him during Law’s absence, yet the kid’s clearly wandering here alone, unsupervised. A flick of red flashes at his periphery, a distinctive orca hat hiding somewhere behind the mast not a moment after. Someone hasn’t been on a latrine duty in quite a while it seems, Law will have words with them later and they won’t be nice. 

Doflamingo stomps his foot, a demand for attention loud and clear.

Law has half a mind to shamble him overboard and be done with this once and for all. But Doffy's ten now, Cora is eight, both of their faces are sunken with months worth of hunger bordering on starvation and Law has to start drinking something stronger than coffee to get a grip, doesn't he? 

He doesn't shamble the little runt. Not yet anyway.

He glares down instead, meeting the vicious eyes with a stare of his own.

“Rosi was scared. You can't make my brother scared. No one can.” Pang of guilt flashes through Law's chest. He isn't wrong, in that they can both agree, but he doesn't need a lecture from Doflamingo. “You should die,” the child continues, teeth bared with visibly stewing anger. 

And you should die a thousand times over.

He should.

He murdered Cora-san.

(Except, he didn't. Not here anyway, not yet. A bitter kind of miracle that's gradually making Law positively, overwhelmingly insane.)

“If I die, you’d die too,” Law states flatly, deciding to let the kid’s poor excuse of a threat slide, “and there’d be no one left to protect you.” Which is true enough. Without the Hearts in the picture and Trebol's sticky, slimy, paternalistic hands hovering over Doffy like a swarm of flies, the brothers are almost as good as dead. Law saw first-hand how the world treats some of its children - gunshots and flames were an unforgiving teacher, after all. Not that he’s planning on dying any soon. There'd have to be an enormous kind of catastrophe for Law to kick the bucket and it's more than implausible for Doffy to kill him himself. Law's has no doubts the annoying squirt will try anyway though.

“We’ll make it, eh! We did so far. We don’t need you.” 

“You don’t?”

“We’ll make it.”

“Will you?”

Doffy fumbles with an answer, mouth opening and closing, but past the grunts and twitching lips, he finds nothing. Which makes the little devil even more angry than before.

“I hate you,” he seethes with all the vile, twisted mind behind it.

And ah, the venom dripping from these words. Such a tiny, harmless thing Doflamingo has shrunk into, and yet, he contains so much hatred still. The swaths of it lap in waves, almost palpable in the crisp northern air. Law knows, remembers how it feels like to a frighteningly close degree. He was almost the same back at the time. (Almost. No longer. Because, apparently, one person can make a significant difference in somebody’s life, can they not?) Same age. Same mould of frustration and hatred. A byproduct of a broken government, broken world they all live in. (And yet, Cora-san believed Law was worthy of love.)

“No one's dying here, as far as I'm concerned. You want to help yourself? Your brother? I have a job for you.” Better redirect that anger into something else. Something productive, Law has a few creative ideas, but settles on the one with the most chances of success. He needs to talk to Jean Bart first, though.

DQ Brothers

Time travel swapped AU

TW: brief description of dissociation 

Two weeks and fifty miles away, on the quiet, insignificant shore of the Cubic Island Cora-san worked up the courage and asked him – no, not Cora-san, Rosinante, it's little Rosi now – asked him what is this symbol they're wearing. The ‘pretty smile' as he called it, with that high-pitched, childish voice so different from the low and raspy sound coming from the throat full of cigarette smoke. A tiny finger pointed out to his chest, where the tattoos curled in swirls around the small circle with three dots and lines he'd designed and got inked so long ago, ‘It's here too, is it something special?’ and Law…

…Law refills the third cup of coffee and takes a bitter sip. Face twists into a grimace, he adds sugar then, two shallow spoons, because he somehow forgot about them with the little Cora-sa- Rosi's words bouncing in his head and causing ruckus. 

How can he answer? 

Because of you. It's you, it's you-

He cannot say that. 

He can't-

The next sip is sweet and burning his tongue and Rosinante is looking at him from behind a thick, circular window of the messroom’s double door. He's standing on tiptoes, Law notices, has to, he's too small, too tiny to reach the glass otherwise (Corazón was three meters tall and he dwarfed Law with his shadow alone, hide him inside the mess of black feathers completely, whispers about the cure falling relentlessly from the smiling lips). Rosi ducks his head right back when their glances cross. 

Law is making Cora-san nervous. 

Law bites his tongue and strangles the urge to hiss out profanities. Vicious and creative curses directed, mostly, at himself.

Because he didn't answer then, when the seemingly innocent question was asked, just blinked back the memories of snow and I love you, Law and swallowed the hammering heartbeat down the suddenly constricting throat. ‘Later,’ he was able to choke out, which he attributed to the congenital willpower honed painfully through all these years, ‘I'll tell you later,’ before he turned around and just… left.

The walk after that was kind of a blur full of mirages swapping between the guttural past and impossible present, until he found himself standing in the middle of a clearance. A town square, his mind supplemented, we're up North, Gereteth port, Cubic Island. He traced the path of the sunbeams sliding along the mismatched cobblestones, until he vaguely remembered how he got there and… and why he left the sub in the first place. To clear his head after… after. Judging by the sun and the ancient looking horologe hanging down from the clock tower, he lost approximately forty to fifty minutes. An hour, and a half, maybe. And based on the apprehensive glances thrown his way, most of that time Law spent staring, unseeing, at the local marketplace. Wonderful. He reluctantly opted to come back, before any guard he spotted glaring at him from here and there unwisely decided to be brave enough to question Law's behaviour with force, rather than words. He didn't want to make a mess from such a cozy little town and bring unnecessary attention to his crew and the newly acquired charges. 

He went back, steps gaining weight with every meter closer to the yellow sheathing glinting in the sun. 

Ignoring a couple of questioning looks from his semi-concerned bunch of idiots, he went down to the messroom, blissfully empty, and brewed himself a cup of coffee. 

And another one. 

And another.

And then Cor- Rosi-san came. 

And Law, nowhere near ready even after all this time, doesn't know what to do.

He has to sort out this tangled mess before it can grow to unnecessarily ridiculous proportions. He's a fucking pirate with a bounty worth millions of belli, Surgeon of Death who ripped out more hearts than he can count, he can't break because of one silly question-

Law can hear Rosinante's boots shuffling behind the door, tiny hands undoubtedly entwined into a nervous knot.

He doesn't have to imagine Penguin's pointed glance and Bepo's beady eyes going all watery to feel guilty for the impromptu escape his mind decided to perform today.

This is stupid. 

His chest tightens, something dark coiling inside, sounding almost like a chuckle festooned with pink feathers and thunderclap of gunshots.

I love you, Law.

Leave him alone.

He's free. He's free.

Law sets down the half-finished mug on the counter, comes to the door and cracks them open.