#figured it was now or never at this point so here it is!

[frehyun]

Drowned

siren!hyunjin x afab!reader

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of drinking, descriptions of drowning, unprotected sex (do not), monster cock, fingering (f and m receiving), oral (f receiving), creampie

genre: pirate/siren AU, found family trope, fluff, monster (?) smut, a little bit of angst

word count: 8.2k

author's note: started thinking about merman hyunjin, wanted to write a little something, it got out of hand. voilá. seriously, this is the longest thing i've ever written so i'd really appreciate to hear what you think! please let me know if there's any mistakes or if i overlooked something <3 happy reading 💙

masterlist

divider by @firefly-graphics

For as long as you lived, the sea was your home. The salty wind in your hair, the water splashing against the sides of your parent’s ship and freedom in your heart. Never have you wanted for more, the crew and everything else that was on board was always enough.

Sure, every now and then you had to get rough with other pirates or relieve some rich folk of their valuables but regardless of that, you wouldn’t change your life for the world. You never had a worry on your mind except maybe what’s for dinner that day, enjoying a nice sunbath on the deck, messing with some of the lower standing crew members that were close to your heart or going fishing with your mother whenever you were docked on some harbor.

Today was no different. Maybe a little different, since your father had tasked you with checking out one of the local rich men’s houses. Your boots carried you to the wealthy district where you earned your share of people eyeing you with disdain but you didn’t mind, smiling toothily at them and waving which just left them perplexed by your friendliness.

You whistled lowly at the sight of the mansion, gold decorations shimmering on the façade, lush greenery surrounding the entire building.

Kind of impressive.

The fence was hopped easily and you found your way into the mansion. No one was home so you figured there was no point in trying to stay low. You scanned through most of the main rooms, snatching up anything that looked valuable enough to you. With your pockets and bag full, you strolled over to what seemed to be a room where whoever lived here kept all of their valuable paintings and other art finds.

You stood in front of one particularly impressive artwork. While others would surely admire the stroke pattern, the colors used or the fascinating woodwork on the frame, you simply ascertained that the painting was small enough to carry out and still be able to run with. So you grinned to yourself as you removed the painting from the wall and leisurely made your way out of the house again.

Your steps are hurried as you make your way back to the ship, signaling for the crew to get ready to leave the harbor.

“Halt! She’s a thief!”

Oh well. Took them long enough.

You broke out in a sprint, painting secured beneath your arm. Your father was already barking out orders, readying the ship to take off as soon as they can, while some of the local police is hot on your trail.

You giggled as you climbed onboard right as the ship began its movement towards the horizon. With big motions you waved to the people left behind, all of them fuming for having lost the race against you.

-

The island was no longer to be seen, your parents were proud and your little family had plenty of stuff to sell for the next dock. You couldn’t be happier.

To reward yourself for your hard work today, you decided to lounge about in the sun. The waves rocked you until you fell fast asleep.

So deeply asleep that you didn’t wake up when the outlook yelled about another ship approaching yours.

So deeply asleep that you only woke up when the first canonball tore through the flimsy wood of the ship you called home.

Your heart was beating erratically as you struggled to make sense of your surroundings, everyone onboard in a panicked hurry. Some men running around trying to fight off the opponents that were starting to invade your space, the others below deck firing back with whatever they had, some others trying to keep the rising water out of the ship, refusing to let it sink just like that.

You grabbed your own sword and jumped to your father’s side.

“Seems like you angered the wrong gentlemen this time around!” – he laughed as his sword clashed with another.

“It was your stupid idea!” – you countered, equally finding amusement in the familiar situation and laughing.

The fight seemed to be on your side for a moment, countless stuck-up lawmen falling into the harsh waters while your side held their numbers up. But not everything always goes the way you want it to, one misstep and everything can fall apart quickly. So when the blade slashed through your side, you sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards against the railing, a man twice your size giving you the last push you needed to tip over, the cold water enveloping your whole body.

You struggled to keep your head above the waters, gasping for air but breathing in more water than anything sustainable. Your body bumped into those of others that had met the same fate as you, making the entire process of trying to stay alive harder than it needed to be. The side of your torso ached with every movement and soon enough, the strength left your limbs as you slowly but surely sunk deeper into the depths of the sea, unaware of someone that observed your descent with curious eyes.

The first thing you notice when you come to your senses again is that you feel incredibly warm.

The second thing you notice is a pair of curious eyes staring down at you.

“Oh” – he moves out of your sight before you can properly take the rest of his appearance in but one thing is abundantly clear to you: pupils should not be shaped like his, nor should eyes be as yellow as his.

You sit upright as soon as you can, wincing at the sharp pain in your side. The pain is all but forgotten when you take in the otherworldly creature sitting timidly at the edge of a stone not far from you.

He is nervously picking at his fingers while gazing at you, the space between each finger connected by a thin membrane akin to some sea creatures you know. There are tiny little scales scattered around his skin that shimmer in various shades in the light, ranging from the deepest onyx, powdery sky blue, brilliant gold and pearl white. The most alarming thing about his body is the very obvious fish tail where his legs should be, decorated in the same colors as the rest of his scales with smaller, elegantly shaped fins on the sides of it. It seemed to be longer than whatever the stories made you picture in your mind. When your gaze wanders back up his body, taking note of how the scales fade into normal skin and just being scattered here and there, you notice the gills on each side of his neck, fluttering softly with each breath he takes. His impressively broad back had another line of fins across his spine. Finally settling your gaze on his face, framed by luscious black locks, you can see he has another set of large fins on the side of his head, probably protecting his ears. His eyes shine a shimmery yellow with a fitting cat-like pupil that’s slightly dilated as he’s taking your form in. A slight blush covers his cheeks, the miniscule fins along his cheekbones fluttering.

He is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your life.

When he opens his plush lips to say something, you can see his teeth are a set of fangs, his canines larger and sharper than the others which seem kind of blunt in comparison.

“Do you feel pain?” – his voice comes out shyly, an underlying trill accompanying the sound.

Suddenly, you remember you are supposed to be in pain, immediately clutching the side that was slashed during the fight but finding it neatly bandaged with algae and scraps of cloth. He must have taken care of you while you were unconscious.

Surprisingly, all that’s left is a dull pain that pulsates along your heartbeat, nothing too bad. As you tell him this, he seems pleased, a proud little smile on his lips.

“You are a pirate, yes?”

“Yeah. We got attacked and then…” – you trail off and look around.

You’re clearly on some shore but it doesn’t seem like any civilisation is nearby, the air devoid of any sounds that indicate humans are nearby, just the soft crashing of the waves, the wind in the trees and the calls of animals. There isn’t any harbor, no boats in sight, the beautiful creature sitting beside you the only sign of intelligent life.

A sigh leaves your lips, already wracking your brain for any ideas on how to get back to the mainland or contact your family. For a second earlier, you thought that you found your end as you stared into the creature’s eyes. So sure were you that what you saw in front of you must have been one of the legendary sirens that your mother always told you about. Creatures that lure in pirates and sailors alike with their beautiful appearance and mesmerising voices, only to drag them into the depths of the sea, killing them.

Whatever was in front of you, curiously holding up the painting that you stole, big eyes roaming over the faded paint, couldn’t be a man-killing siren for he was far too soft and gentle to be anything like those legends said he would be.

It was honestly kind of cute watching him take in the ruined painting, completely captivated by the swirling colors, his tail gently splashing in the water in quiet excitement.

He seemed to be no threat, so you let your guard down easily beside him.

“Do you have a name?” – you ask him finally, breaking his concentration on the painting, yet he doesn’t look away from it.

“Hyunjin.”

“Well, thank you, Hyunjin. For saving me. I’m y/n.”

The tips of his ear fins flick at your admission, yet he makes no move to look at you. His fingers, with claws retracted, gently glide over the messy colors and though the original painting is near unrecognisable, far too damaged by the tides to make anything out, Hyunjin seems to find a certain beauty in the destroyed artwork.

“Do you know who made this?” – he asks and there’s that trill in his voice again that makes you think his vocal chords must work differently to yours.

“Nope. Stole it from some rich guy, he didn’t really indicate the artist anywhere. I doubt he cared.”

Hyunjin frowns at that, finally putting the painting to the side and turning to you.

“What are you going to do now? I understand that this island is less than ideal for a human but I had to get you back on land as soon as possible. You would have died.”

“I know where my family was headed and if they survived that encounter, they’ll still sail towards Port Vement. I just have to figure out a way to get there” – you let your body fall back into the sand.

Hyunjin hums and even then, the little trill you’re slowly getting obsessed with accompanies the sound. You want to hear it again. You wonder if it would be there if he sang.

“I’ll help you. I’m the reason you’re in this situation, after all.”

-

The days passed in a slog. You were mainly concerned about finding a way off of the island while staying alive, the wound you nursed on your side healing too slow for your liking.

Hyunjin had been fantastic at keeping you company and ensuring you actually survived and stayed sane. He caught fish for you with his bare hands, showing it off proudly by raising his arm in the air and giving you a toothy grin from his place in the water as you watched him, your adoration growing for him with every fish caught.

You ate together and meal times were one of the few times where you had to realise, that Hyunjin was after all part animal with the way he tore into the fish, his fangs easily making short work of the seadweller.

When you were busy building a makeshift raft out of the driftwood that you found around the shore, he’d sunbathe on one of the nearby stones, his scales glistening and shimmering in the light. Your desire to touch them grew every time you stole a glance at the sleepy siren.

Sometimes, the two of you would just lay together, exhausted from the day. Hyunjin liked it when you told him stories of your adventures around the world but it seemed that he found particular joy in the stories that focused on your little pirate family.

You would tell him of Marnie, the bear-like man in charge of the kitchen, who you swear was the softest guy you had ever known. Everything he touched turned into a delicacy and his passion for good ingredients and cooking got even you excited to try your hand at making a dish, only to end up burning your hand and the meal tasting like it had gone bad a week ago, thus swiftly ending your career as a kitchen helper.

You would tell him of Val, the outlook who loves reading more than anything ever since your mother taught him. He keeps a little box full of books he procures from the towns you visit. Val doesn’t talk much but he’s generally good company and loves telling you about the plots of his novels.

You would tell him of Arlen, a tall scary-looking guy who was in charge of keeping all of your weapons sharp and battle-ready. Despite looking so fierce and battleworn, Arlen was quite the romantic, swooning here and there over the beauty of the world.

You would tell him of Marlo, who was with you ever since you were born for he was your father’s childhood friend. Marlo lies and talks a lot of bullshit all day long but that made him the greatest storyteller on board because he could exaggerate the hell out of the tales he told.

And finally, you would tell him of your parents, who fell in love when your father was just a scrawny lad robbing a bar blind with his crew of misfits. He swept her off her feet and promised her a future full of wealth and a lifetime of love in their little family.

It was a fair exchange, because Hyunjin, after a few days of only you entrusting stories to him, started telling you of his own life.

He was born in an alcove to two very loving parents when the weather just started changing, the water slowly warming up with each day passing, the sun more happy to be out and about. He was the only one of his clutch that survived, so he didn’t have any brothers or sisters.

When he was just a little fish, his parents got caught up in some kind of conflict between a group of sirens and, in order to protect their only son, gave their lives so he could swim away.

You noticed his voice came out strained, so you silently took his hand into yours in an effort to comfort him. It was your first time initiating touch with him and he accepted it gratefully, continuing on with his story.

“I was alone for quite a while, but my parents taught me well”, he said, “until I met a bunch of other sirens, all male, which was weird, since all the other sirens I had met during my life always had females with them for one reason or another. They were weird for that but what was even weirder is that… I stuck with them for a while and they started feeling like home.”

You nodded along to his words, your thumb caressing the back of his hand in comforting motions.

“You had your own little family, hm?”, you whisper and he nods.

“What happened to them?”, you ask cautiously, not wanting to push him too far in case he wasn’t ready to share that part of the story with you yet. His gills fluttered as he took in a shaky breath, his ear fins flapping nervously as his eyes find yours.

“There was a storm and we got seperated. I don’t know where they are.”

Hyunjin doesn’t share any more stories that night.

-

A few days into your new castaway life, you figure you should change or at least clean the bandages for your wound so it doesn’t get infected. Even after diligently checking through the supplies you gathered in your time here, there isn’t an awful lot of cloth amongst it.

You sigh and look down at your clothes, already mourning the fabric.

You trudge over to where Hyunjin was lounging about. In a way, you envy him for not having to wear proper clothing. Most of what he was wearing consisted of various seashells, fishing lines and other sea artefacts that he, or one of his friends, assembled to resemble necklaces, bracelets and decorations for his tail.

If he was human, he would be quite fashionable, you think.

“Hyunjin”, you whine and he cracks open one eye to look up at you.

“Can you use your claws to cut off some fabric from my clothes for new bandages?”

He mutters a quiet ‘sure’ and sits up, making grabby hands with his sharpened nails at you. You giggle at his antics and offer him your pantleg and he gently cuts off enough fabric to dress your wound with.

The next part is kind of awkward because last time you were unconscious and the situation was quite literally life-or-death. You both sit there awkwardly, Hyunjin still with the fabric in hand, not sure how and where to move. What was acceptable? Would you let him take care of you again now that you were fully conscious?

You were the first to break the awkward tension by lifting your shirt up.

“Help me, again?” – you choke out and Hyunjin feels like jumping into the water and swimming away as far as he can. He trills something, no words coming out of him, just cute little noises, his ear fins flicking nervously.

He scoots closer to you, the base of his tail settling against your knees and despite his scales looking so scratchy, it’s a smooth, silky feel against your skin.

The old bandages and algae are taken off with ease and Hyunjin curiously eyes your wound, checking if it needs to be cleaned or any other special care. Meanwhile you feel like dying, his careful eyes roaming over your middle feels weirdly intimate and you want to burst into a million pieces at his attention.

It’s not every day that you get the full attention of a man as beautiful as him. Even rarer that someone you feel attracted to genuinely wants to take care of you. Something stirs in your heart when Hyunjin’s fingers gently trace the outline of your wound, careful to not keep them too close.

“Is this okay?” – he asks when you slightly jump at his touch and you nod back at him in a daze.

He starts bandaging you up gently, occasionally letting his gaze flit up to your face, silently checking whether you were still okay with what was happening. His own neck starts gaining color when he notices how flustered you are by his ministrations and he quickly finishes up, making sure the bandage wasn’t too tight but still snug.

“Done” – he trills and quickly retracts his hands back to his own body.

On one hand you’re glad it’s over and you can let your body relax again, on the other, you wish he would have kept his hands on you just a little longer.

-

You’re finally able to complete a safe enough raft when Hyunjin finds the last piece of driftwood that seems stable enough to hold you. While you pack all the things you had gathered for a longer journey on sea, Hyunjin tests the durability of the raft by swimming a few paces out into the ocean and hops onto it.

It seems to pass his tests and he gives you a thumbs up before bringing it back.

“And you’re absolutely sure you can swim and pull this at the same time?” – you ask from your place on the raft for the nth time that day, the anxiety gnawing at your core that you’re tasking Hyunjin with something that would end up hurting him.

“Trust me a litte, I’ll be fine!” – he grins and it’s that smile you started to love so much, one where his eyes crinkle a little and remind you of the shape of the moon on some nights. It’s a smile that usually only comes out when he’s genuine, cackling about something he finds extremely funny or something you said to him makes him so happy he can’t hold himself back.

“Alright, fish boy, let’s go, then.”

And oh boy, he’s faster than you thought, pulling you two through the tides as if you weighed nothing to him. Maybe you didn’t. Maybe sirens were extremely strong and he simply never showcased it to you as he did with so many things.

You hold onto dear life and try to navigate him towards where you think was Port Vement.

Amidst the waves rocking your little raft, the excitement and anxiety at the thought of seeing your family again rises within your heart.

What if they never survived that attack?

What if something else happened to them and they never made it to the Port?

What if they never came to Port Vement in the first place?

Such thoughts had plagued your mind ever since you started planning to go after them, only momentarily silenced whenever Hyunjin piped up with something he wanted to ask you about ever curiously or whenever the siren popped into your field of vision, effectively ripping you out of your spiral.

It’s a moment of clarity, your chest constricting at the realisation that in these few days together, you really grew attached to your unlikely acquaintance. A realisation that forces a small part of your brain to wish that you could just stay with him instead of returning to your family. Because a returnal would mean that you would have to say goodbye to him and maybe never see him again, your worlds too different to be allowed to collide for too long.

You don’t talk a lot during your travels and when night eventually falls, Hyunjin is far too tired to keep up with idle conversations. His tail is gently curled around the raft as he rests his body on the wood beside you, slumbering peacefully as the waves rock you two in a soft but steady rhythm. Your hand finds its way into the soft tresses of his hair, your fingers carding through his locks in an effort to comfort and thank him for his efforts during the day.

That fall off your ship could have easily ended in your death. A deep cut in your side, the bloodloss and the strong tides would have killed you right then and there, slowly draining your strength until there was none left.

If Hyunjin didn’t decide to help you out of the kindness of his heart, that would have been it. He didn’t need to help you or stay by your side to ensure that you had food and were safe. Probably shouldn’t have helped you if he wanted to keep himself safe.

But he did anyway. And for that you were incredibly grateful, yet you didn’t have a proper chance to show him that and it made you feel guilty. So all you could do for the moment was ensure that he was healthy and offer him all the comfort he needed.

Surprisingly, the journey was more boring than you expected. There were no storms, no complications, barely any ships nearby that could’ve been trouble for a stray girl and her equally stray siren.

When you see Port Vement in the distance, you let out a yell that scares Hyunjin so much he momentarily stops swimming to look back at you in horror.

“Port Vement, Hyunjin! We made it! You did it!!” – you excitedly celebrate and crawl forward on your raft to take him into your arms tightly. Hyunjin startles at your sudden touch but relaxes into your hold, his webbed fingers coming up to pat your back.

“I promise you, I’m gonna buy you as much food as you want, whatever you want, I’ll make it possible! There’s not enough ways in the world to thank you” – you sob into his shoulder, suddenly emotional over the whole ordeal.

He really doesn’t like it that you’re crying but having you in his arms feels so right, so comforting to his heart that he physically feels his feelings for you click into place, finally slotting into the spaces where they belonged.

“Let’s get you out of the water, then” – he trills shyly and you sniff as you settle back onto the raft so Hyunjin can pull you the last few meters.

With shaky legs you finally stand on solid ground again.

Port Vement had always been something of a safe haven for your family so it felt good to be back somewhere familiar. You tell Hyunjin you’re gonna check out the docks to see if your family’s ship is there and he promises you he’ll stay nearby watching over you in case something happened.

Your mind races as you hurry to the docks, all the questions bubbling up again that spike your anxiety. The uneven road makes you trip and bump into people passing you by but you don’t much care for their complaints as you make your way down the streets. Your heart is beating fast inside your ribs, almost painfully so, making you feel like you’re drowning again.

Everything comes to a halt around you as all your fears slip clean off your shoulders when you take in the glory that is your family’s ship. You want to break down and cry now that you finally know they’re here and safe but you knock some sense into yourself as you wrack your brain for possible locations they could’ve fled to in this town.

There were several shops and fishermen around trying to sell their wares but you doubt you’d find one of them there, especially with the sun setting already. Then your eyes stop at a shield hanging from one of the big wooden doors around you.

A tavern.

Bingo.

You break out into a sprint again, ripping the door open and startling several of the guests. Ignoring all of their complaints is easy when your eyes zero in on one table in the far back where your father is cackling obnoxiously loud, probably about some lame joke Marlo made.

“Dad!” – you yell and hurry over to their table. When they notice you, everyone’s eyes turn as big as saucers and the table almost topples over with the force of everyone suddenly standing up, trying to get to you first.

This time you really cry when the first pair of arms encircles you, soon to be followed by countless more, the lot of you just ending up in a big cuddle pile.

“You don’t know how much I missed you” – you cry and everyone shares your sentiment.

“We thought you died!”

“How did you survive that?!”

“Where have you been this entire time?!”

“How did you get to this island?!”

You answer all of their questions throughout the evening and in-between beers. For a moment, you think whether to tell them about Hyunjin’s existence or to obscure it to keep him safe in case someone else was listening in on your conversation. You settle on whispering it to your parents while the others are busy getting shitfaced. You’re your parents are surprised would be an understatement and they don’t believe you at first, thinking you might have taken a hit to your head or that you started to hallucinate in your absence.

Your insistence on the truthfulness of your story makes them eventually back down and give in.

“I don’t want to do anything he doesn’t want to, so I don’t know if you’ll ever meet him but… I just wanted you to know that my survival was thanks to a kind soul” – you mumble to them and your own statement makes you suddenly go rigid.

In your revery and celebration you totally forgot that Hyunjin was waiting for you.

You excuse yourself hastily, only your parents knowing the real reason why you would suddenly leave, and run outside to where you had last seen him. New anxieties swirl in your head. What if he left? What if that was it and you never got to say a proper goodbye to him? Thank him for what he’s done?

The coast was entirely clear so you called out to him in the dark.

“Hyunjin?”

Silence.

“Hyunjin? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you wait for so long!”

The waves softly crash against the shores.

“My parents know about you, I hope that was fine? They’re very grateful, just like I am!”

The sounds of drunken hollering from the town reach your ears but thankfully they’re quiet, too far away to be a concern.

“Please don’t tell me you left…” – your voice gets quieter with each time you call out to him.

That’s when you spot something in the water. Two glowing orbs watching you from beneath the water. A relieved sigh escapes your lungs and your eyes sting, marking the fourth time you want to cry today.

You carefully step to the edge of the water and crouch down to place your hand into the sea. There’s a few moments before the yellow glow starts gliding through the water towards you and something suddenly takes your hand into theirs.

Hyunjin’s head peeks out of the water and you can see him pout.

“I thought you left me for good” – he mumbles into the water and despite his overly dramatic pout, you know he means it.

“I really am sorry… I got carried away after seeing my family again but I should have at least given you a sign or something instead of letting you wait without knowing what’s going on” – you caress his cheek, letting your thumb graze over the miniscule fins protruding from his cheekbones and Hyunjin lets out a soft trill.

“I was scared” – he doesn’t look you in the eyes anymore after his admission and your heart breaks.

“Don’t leave me, you’re all I have” – he sounds so broken, so different from the boy that kept giggling over the dumbest things you told him.

“Hyunjin…”

The water splashes around him when he pushes his body up on the stone, tail flailing behind him. When his hands find purchase on your shoulders, his retracted nails digging into your flesh, you half think he is going to live up to the siren stereotypes and drag you into the depths, but instead, his plush lips crash into yours haphazardly.

For a moment you’re taken aback, the force of the kiss so sudden, but your heart swells when your mind finally catches up to what was happening, your lips starting to move against his.

He tastes salty and a bit fishy, you can feel his fangs when you push your lips against his. Hyunjin is in a constant battle with himself of wanting to savor this and wanting to rush to the next part. His body wins and he timidly licks your lips, requesting you to open your mouth for him.

As you two kiss, pouring every amount of yearning and love into it, your arms circle around his small waist, pulling him further against your body. A pleased trill escapes his lips and you smile against him, licking excitedly into his mouth. You notice his tongue is different from yours, forked at the end and longer overall. Your tongue catches a few times on the many little fangs in his mouth but you don’t mind. Right now, you’re on cloud nine.

“The feelings I have in my chest are too big to put into words” – he says breathlessly when you part, foreheads touching.

“Can you show them to me?”

Hyunjin nearly sobs at your question, his mind pushing him to do a million things at the same time. How does one put their love into actions properly? How could he possibly show you how much you grew to mean to him within the days you spent together with just one action?

The rest of his tail lifts out of the water and envelops you, his arms pushing you to rest your head against his chest as he cradles you.

“My mother used to hold me like this” – he begins quietly, his heart thumping loudly against your ear.

“She said that as long as her heart was beating in her chest and I could hear it like this, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything. And even long after the beating of her heart faded out, I could remember it and be sure that for as long as she lived, her heart was beating for me” – he hugs you tighter against his chest, his cheek resting atop your head.

The two of you stay like this for a while, just breathing with each other, feeling each other’s skin. You give little kisses to his chest, finally getting to touch his scales like you wanted to the moment you met him.

“I know it’s not a replacement for what you lost, but for the time being until we find your friends again, if you wanted to, I could probably convince the others to take you with us, you know.”

“You would?”

“Of course I would, you dummy”, you giggle and poke his side and he lets out a trill again, much to your joy.

“My parents already know about you and even though a part of them probably thinks their daughter has lost it, they would accept you without thought. You saved me and showed me more kindness than another human might in a situation like this, you’re probably already part of the crew in their heads.”

Hyunjin sobs and hugs you even tighter to his body, his tail wrapping protectively around your legs.

In the quiet of the night, you two whisper about better tomorrows and a future filled with love to each other.

You don’t return to your family until morning.

-

The introduction between Hyunjin and your family went as well as you could have hoped. While most of them were weary at first, scared, that he was going to turn on them and do siren things to them, they accepted him after seeing that he was equally as shy about meeting them. Plus, they couldn’t argue with you for long when you kept insisting that he was the only reason you were alive right now.

The crew went about loading and repairing the ship from the damages it endured during the battle, meaning that you weren’t going to leave this place for a few days at least. Hyunjin curiously watched the hustle and bustle from a short distance away, not wanting to be in the way or risking getting seen by locals who didn’t know about him.

Your father approaches you on the last day of repairs, asking you to check out a new little addition to the pirate ship, one that has you gasping in happiness.

They decided to add a small, silly lift and a bunch of nets that were sturdy enough to hold Hyunjin on the side of the ship. That way, he could either use the lift with the help of someone on board or climb his way on deck using the nets. With an addition like this you were absolutely sure that Hyunjin was now part of the family and with an excited skip in your step you run to tell him about it.

He seems just as excited about it, his ear fins flickering happily and a huge grin on his face. Just one issue.

“Do you…uhm, have a bucket of water or something for me to sit in? I’m going to dry out otherwise.”

You scratch your head in thought. You kind of forgot that he needs water to survive, never having seen him outside of it for long.

“We got that covered, lad!”, Marnie yells, scaring both of you, as he unloads the last ingredients for the kitchen on deck.

“Near the spot where our dear y/n always sunbathes we put up a big tub already filled with salty sea water for ye!”

Hyunjin’s eyes glitter in joy and he claps his hands together excitedly.

“y/n! Help me up! I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like to be on a big ship like this!”

You chuckle and run on board towards the lift, and with little trouble you get the siren on board. A little more physical effort from both of you is needed to get Hyunjin across the deck and into the tub but when his cute little fish butt hits the water the two of you let out a pleased sigh.

“This is great!” – he trills excitedly, not knowing where to look first.

As Hyunjin takes in all the sights and the difference in height, you take the opportunity to observe the rest of the ship, a sense of calm settling in your chest at the thought of having both your family back and Hyunjin by your side.

-

Travelling with a siren by your side proves to be quite advantageous. The fishing takes half the time with Hyunjin speeding through the nearby waters and snatching up any fish big and beautiful enough to be considered meal-worthy by Marnie while your father desperately tries to do it the old-fashioned way only to lose to the siren every time.

To make up for every defeat, Hyunjin’s second job as a pirate is scouting ahead of your ship to make sure you’re not running into any law enforcement or other pirates that could prove dangerous.

He seems to love being needed for specific tasks.

The next time the opportunity arises for your crew to steal from a rich guy, Arlen casually takes a painting off the wall to offer it to Hyunjin later. He tries to brush it off as not a big deal, yet he can’t escape getting pulled into a big hug as Hyunjin thanks him wholeheartedly.

Arlen would never admit it to anyone but he teared up a bit at the genuine excitement bubbling off the siren just because he gave him a little gift.

The others soon also realised Hyunjin’s love for art so it escalated into something of a tradition for any crewmember to always bring back something from the world of art for their new fish buddy.

-

Today was one of the boring days, the entire crew on land for their business endeavors. The ship wasn’t docked as usual, a short distance away from land so they had to use the row boats to get to their destination. That left Hyunjin and you alone on the boat, lounging about in the sun. He let one arm lazily dangle outside of his tub to hold your hand with.

You suddenly realise that with the entire crew gone, probably until the next day, you could finally get some much needed kisses in. Ever since you took off from Port Vement, Hyunjin and you had to abstain from too much physical contact since you didn’t want to scare your parents with both bringing a real siren to the crew and explaining that he might be their new son-in-law.

Hyunjin cracks his eyes open when he feels your hand caressing his cheek. Without warning, you press a kiss to his lips and he feels like bursting at the seams, after being deprived of your loving touch for so long. It was just the start of your relationship and he immediately had to hold himself back from all the physical affections he wanted to give you. It was kind of unfair.

All the more reason for him to meet your kiss with as much fervor as he could muster. The miniscule fins on his cheekbones tickle you when you deepen the kiss, your tongue gliding over his forked one. Your heart beats erratically at your chest at you finally being able to kiss him again, your desperation transferring over to your movements being overly eager, accidentally knocking your teeth together but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, it seems to spur him on even more, his hand finding its place on your waist, squeezing your flesh rhythmically.

You decide to be bold and lift your body in the tub, your legs on each side of his tail. Hyunjin looks up at you with an open mouth and big, glazed over eyes, clearly startled.

“Your clothes…”

“Forget about them, Hyune.”

And you descend back on him, your lips clashing with his. Your fingertips graze his ear fins and he lets out a high trill at the back of his throat. They must be sensitive. You store that knowledge in the back of your head for later.

Hyunjin is restless, unsure of where he’s allowed to touch, if he’s supposed to just trust his instincts, let his body do whatever it wanted. You were clearly just doing whatever came to your mind, grinding your core into his tail and letting out small whimpers against his lips that drove him crazy. He needed to know, so he gently pushes you away from him.

“Are you sure?”

You look at him dazed and it seems to take a second before his question registers in your head.

“More than sure. Do whatever feels right, Hyune.”

That about does it for him. His body presses into yours as he attaches his lips on your neck, sucking and peppering it with kisses. Your hands glide over the many fins along his spine, lightly scratching at the base of them and earning another trill from him. Your shirt is discarded haphazardly and thrown somewhere nearby the tub, leaving you bare in front of him. His curious eyes roam hungrily over your chest, a hand coming up to cup your breast experimentally.

“Where can I touch you?” – you breathe against him and Hyunjin suddenly grows shy. A red blush starts to creep up on his neck but he takes one of your hands into his regardless and places it on a specific part on the front of his tail.

“You… you know my ear fins are sensitive and the top of my body works similar to a human’s but, uhm… this is, you know…” – he stammers as you press your fingers into his scales gently. A small slit runs horizontally up his tail between his scales and in a burst of curiosity, you press your fingers inside, causing Hyunjin to throw his head back against the tub and let out a long moan.

“I see” – you tell him and continue to lightly press your fingers against his slippery walls. Your ministrations have him writhing and squirming underneath you, letting out small wanton moans mixed with trills.

Something soon pushes your fingers away and you take a moment to look at the mess Hyunjin had become while you were busy playing with him. He already looked so fucked out, his eyes glossy and glazed over, his hair falling around him messily like a crown, his chest heaving as he looked up at you.

He still was the prettiest thing you ever saw.

“y/n… please…” – he tugs at your pants and you realise you’re still completely dressed from the waist down. You hastily step out of the tub to get rid of the last few offending garments, bearing yourself entirely to him. As you step back in, you see what was pushing against your fingers just a moment ago.

That makes everything a little easier to figure out, as two cocks, similar in color to his tail, protrude from the slit, one a little bit larger than the other. But before you can touch him again, he urges you to sit on the edge of the wooden tub, eager to get his mouth on you. His forked tongue delves between your folds, experimentally licking up and down before focusing its attack entirely on your clit as he suckles.

Your hand tangles itself into his luscious hair, keeping him in place. The effort was kind of in vain because Hyunjin would rather die than part from you at this moment, greedily licking up your juices just to hear more of those melodic moans spilling from your lips. Just as much as you grew obsessed with his fascinating voice and trills, he grew to love your voice the same way.

Carefully, with retracted claws, one of his long fingers prods at your entrance before slipping in until the membrane stopped it from going any further.

“You’re doing so well…” – you praise him and earn a trill, your hands starting to massage his ear fins to give some of the pleasure back.

His ministrations soon bring you to your first climax and leave both of you panting and wanting for more.

Hyunjin eases you back into the tub to hover over his crotch. He gently takes the bigger one of his cocks into his hand, hissing at the contact after going for so long with no touches, and angles it towards your entrance for you to sink down on.

You both moan as you sink down to the hilt, his smaller cock nestling directly against your clit. Time stands seemingly still as you get used to the unusual stretch.

“You okay?” – Hyunjin whispers and soothingly rubs your lower back, his cold hands soothing against your burning flesh. You nod at him, letting your body fall against his, chest against chest, your arms circling around his waist as your face buries itself into his neck.

“Can you move?”

Hyunjin trills and obeys your command without thought, moving his hips in slow motions, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. The extra stimulation from his smaller cock against your front makes you whine into his neck which you pepper with kisses, his gills fluttering at the caress of your lips.

“You feel so good…” – Hyunjin all but whimpers, his hands finding purchase on your hips to move you against him. You hug his chest tighter as you feel your orgasm build up a second time.

“Can I…uhm-“

“Do whatever you want, Hyune. Please.”

You feel him kiss the crown of your head and his strong tail bracing itself against the wooden tub before his pace gets rougher and faster, water beginning to slosh out at the sides. The drag of his two cocks against you is too much for you, your cunt clenching around him as you come with a strained moan into his chest.

“Ah… I love you, y/n. I love you, I really do. Where do I-“

“Inside.”

“Really?”

“I want all of you, Hyunjin.”

You lift up and take his face between your hands to look at him as his hips stutter into you in an uneven rhythm until you feel his cum filling you up. That trill accompanies his voice even as he comes. He looks beautiful, his eyes full of adoration, his lips slightly apart as he comes down from his high slowly.

You two hold onto each other, just basking in eachother’s closeness for a while before his cock slips out of you, retracting back into his slit now that it’s all over and no longer needed.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

And Hyunjin couldn’t be happier, his ear fins flapping happily as he nuzzles his face further into your hair.

-

You do eventually tell your parents about the relationship between you and Hyunjin and although they seem extremely hesitant at first, they figure they can’t really do anything to stop you from pursuing him with the way he’s bonded to you.

The crew eventually returns to Port Vement to stay there for a few days and Hyunjin and you find yourselves on the same part of the shore where your relationship started taking a turn.

You both lounge about beneath the stars, you tucked carefully into his chest. Originally you were scared that Hyunjin and your world were too different for this to go well but you found that despite him being a sea dweller and kind of a menace sometimes, that the two of you are a better fit than you expected.

When you want to tell him another story from your childhood for old time’s sake, you find him already fast asleep in the sand next to you. You smile and kiss the corner of his mouth before settling back against his chest.

Whatever battles lie ahead, you’re sure Hyunjin would pull you from the depths again and again and anyone daring to attack him for what he was would face your entire crews wrath.

As long as your hearts beat, they beat for eachother, you’re sure of that.

-

taglist: @jeonginsleftcheek

[sonrium]

That second point yanked Batman instantly and unwillingly by the throat to Phantom's side.

He couldn't speak out knowing the rest of the League wouldn't approve, so he let the discussion run its course, and Phantom was naturally denied.

But Batman is nothing if not thorough, and compiling DNA profiles would also help with contingencies. So Batman discretely reaches out after the meeting to give Phantom his personal permission as long as he provides the DNA samples and that Phantom understands that Batman cannot publicly defend him, but he will mitigate the consequences behind the scenes.

After another biting incident when Phantom is getting lectured by Superman:

"Phantom, you can't keep doing this. This is your last warning. Criminals or not, it's never okay to bite people just because you want to. Control yourself, or you might have to rethink your place in the Justice League."

Phantom staring at his feet and genuinely worried that he might get kicked out. He didn't think it was that big a deal.

Batman walks up and simply states. "He is controlling himself."

"Batman, you call that control? I'm trying to be understanding, but Phantom is biting criminals more than ever."

"Are they still breathing?"

"I don't see how-"

"Are their limbs still attached?"

"What are you-?"

Batman gives Superman a hard look to stop him mid question. "Acording to Constantine, ghosts from the Infinite Realms are creatures that should be avoided at all costs due to their extremely volatile nature. Generally, it's a death sentence to ever encounter one."

Superman turned to the child he'd been scolding, shocked that any of that could possibly be true about his colleague. The same colleague, who was so gentle he almost cried when he accidently killed a spider in the dining hall. "Is that true?"

Danny, glancing up but unable to meet Superman's eyes, "Yea-yeah. Intense violence is actually how most ghosts socialize. Regrowing limbs isn't a big deal for ghosts, so they tend to forget how fragile humans are."

Batman continues with his explanation, "In the Infinite Realms, ghosts have evolved to attack anything that moves as a defense due to how hostile the environment is. Everything from the plants to the very ground could attack at any moment. Their version of compassion is controlling their instincts before the killing blow. The fact that Phantom rarely attacks anybody is a testament to his constant and vigillent self-control."

Danny finally meets Superman's eyes and they are nothing but pools of liquid innocence and shame about his very being. "I'm sorry... I'm doing my best, but my ghost instincts are really hard to control, especially when emotions are high and we are carching bad guys, and I can't help but bite. But I promise, I will never let it go any farther than that."

Intense guilt washes over Superman. He knew how seriously Phantom took his promises. He had no idea he was asking Phantom to go against his very nature. Did Phantom have to hold himself back right now? Superman knew a thing or two about how scarily fragile human bodies were to someone like him. He couldn't imagine having instincts that screamed at him to attack anything that moved on top of that.

Batman turned to his old friend with a disapproving stare. "Maybe learn a thing or two before you judge our nonhuman members. I expected better from you."

Superman placed his hands on Phantom's shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Do the best you can. We can figure out the rest together. Please forget everything I said earlier."

Danny with hope sparking in his eyes, "Are you sure? I know im not perfect, but I want to stay. I really like it here, and I really like helping people."

"Of course. I'll let the others know." Superman walks away down the hall, and out of sight.

Danny grinned, lifted his eyebrows, and nodded toward where Superman ran off to convey his thanks for the save.

Batman gave a quick nod and a tiny, barely there smile of his own. He spoke aloud for the one with superhearing that was definitely still listening, "I apologize for any offense you may have taken. Know that the sentiments of Superman are not shared by the rest of us."

Danny pulled the zip lock baggie out of his pocket and silently handed it to Batman with a grin. It had a napkin smeared with the blood of Danny's most recent biting victim labeled in Sharpie. Danny responded in a wobbly voice that did not match his mischivous grin, "Thanks." He added a sniffle for effect. "I needed to hear that. I'm really doing the best I can, but i guess people dont see it that way."

After this incident, Superman became Danny's biggest defender against the biting accusations.

Danny Phantom, who as far as the Justice League knew was a normal ghost, was presenting a pointpoint in front of the rest of the League. The presentation says, "Why I should be allowed to bite criminals: 1, because I am not human and cannot catch any of your filthy human diseases. 2, because it would allow us to compile DNA samples from the criminals of the world to compare with during crime scene investigation. 3, Fuck you."

[hansoeii]

Hullo! I’ve been watching a bunch of your Timelapses and I was wondering how do you always come up with the colours for your pieces? They’re always so cohesive and pleasing to look at (I almost exclusively work in greyscale so if I’m using colour it’s always a lucky guess and it never looks quite right)

Hey there!

I have to be honest that most of the time I don't actually know what I'm doing and that I have no idea how most of my pieces are gonna turn out. My work process is usually based on "Fuck around and find out", haha. I'm happy to know that it apparently doesn't come across that way, though.

A lot of it comes very naturally to me simply because I've been drawing non-stop for so long, but I can give you some small tips that really help me:

1. Have as many references as possible!

Here's what my reference sheet looked like for the Jayvik piece:

It helped me a lot to understand the overall color scheme I wanted to convey. Lots of very cold tones, pinks and very light blues and greens. These colours sorround Jayce and Viktor throughout all of season 2 and I wanted to keep them, especially since in my piece they are lying in the glowing hexcore.

Don't shy away from using references, get as many as you possibly can! Look at other poeple's art too and try to understand how they work with colours.

2. Work with complementary colours!

Since I paint a lot of romantic illustrations I want them to look pleasing and comforting, which I can accomplish by using complementary colours! You see this a lot with couples that are blue and red coded, for example. And I wanted to do the same thing in the Jayvik piece! For that I used the highlights in their hair!

Viktor's highlights are a soft pink hue.

While Jayce's are a soft blue hue.

The colour wheel works perfect for figuring out if two colors compliment each other because they are literally right across from one another!

3. It doesn't have to be true to life.

Pretty self-explanatory, but I thought I'd add it in here anyways. It's important to understand how colour and light works, but you don't always have to follow the rules. Does the rim light look cool but it makes zero sense? Who cares! Keep the cool rim light! Just have fun and fuck around.

4. A little trick to make your life easier!

I'm not excatly the best at colour theory, I still struggle with it quite a bit, but here's a little trick I like to use from time to time:

If you want all your colours to look coherent, take one specific color as your flat colour. Choose a hue that you would like your piece to have. Like this:

Now you choose whatever colours your characters have and paint them in. For example, here are the skin colours I chose for Jayce and Viktor:

Looks off, right? These colours don't fit the overall piece at all. So what do we do?

Turn down the opacity! It's that easy, wahoo!

I went from 100 Opacity to 72 for this specific illustration. And look at that!

It's so much nicer already! Now you know what colours to use as your actual flats! Just repeat this with every other part of your illustration and you'll have a great starting point. :)

I really hope this was helpful! I'm not an actual teacher and I don't have a proper illustration degree, so some things might not be completely accurate, but I thought I'd try my hand at this anyways!

[valyrfia]

I think Max will either retire or move to Ferrari in 2027

OUR LESBIAN FERRARI PROPHET SAYS SO? DROP THE TIMELINE

Okay okay anon walk with me.

So I think Lewis is Ready for Retirement. I think he would've retired at Mercedes, eighth championship be damned, if Mercedes had just given him an ambassador contract so he could've used his position and his brand for the causes he wants to dedicate the second half of his life to. As is, Mercedes refused to give him that contract (which, I could go on for AGES about how blindly ridiculous that is and is a clear marker of how far this sport still has to go re: racism)–but Ferrari did.

However, to be a Ferrari ambassador, a 2+1 year race contract accompanies it. Obviously this is a good move for Lewis anyway since it's looking like Ferrari will be one of the quickest teams moving into 2025 and Lewis must have some information on how they might nail the regulation change come 2026, but, and this may be controversial. Charles Leclerc is an established driver at Ferrari, the absolute darling of the tifosi (I mean, he's the second most important person in Italy after the literal pope), and most importantly he's a driver that has not yet hit his ceiling. Now, this is where I tread carefully, but I believe that Lewis, in comparison, is past his prime. Sure, he pulled off an incredible drive at Silverstone this year but he has not been able to match George–and George I believe is currently at a lower level than Charles. I have a sneaking suspicion that Charles is, well, going to walk all over Lewis next year. And if Lewis truly has only moved for the sake of the ambassador contract, he'll break the racing contract after 2 years.

Okay but Ollie is supposedly lined up for that Ferrari seat, and Ferrari NEED an order of succession, so who says that Max will take it?

Red Bull Racing is falling apart at the seams (sorry RB fans). Christian Horner is a power-hungry [REDACTED] who will bring the whole team down with him. The Thai side have never really cared about the Formula 1 team (and I know from Sources, backed Christian Horner in this whole fiasco which is why CH wasn't fired). Newey is gone, I'm sure other key figures will get pinched in the next couple of years, Max has kept everything together for pure skill this past year but the writing is on the wall. I'm going to hold everyone's hands when I say this, but I don't think Red Bull are winning either championships next year....

However, for as much as Max loves to talk about it, I don't think he's actually ready for retirement. I also don't think he'll be the type of guy to retire on a low. Max's contract is until 2028, but he can break it if he drops to P3 in the championship, which, I think there's a non-zero chance of happening in 2026 especially under new regulations/brand new engines.

So Ferrari are likely going to nail the new regs, Max doesn't want to retire on a low, and it looks like Ferrari shopping for a driver and Max wanting to leave Red Bull will line up within roughly the same window.

There's also a couple of sentimental reasons I want to point to. Max (as much as he tries to deny it) is a victim of the old Red Bull Golden Boy curse of being a Ferrari fan. I mean, he literally grew up in the Schumacher era, with his father being friends with Schumacher. He's stated multiple times how if he can't hear the Dutch anthem on the podium he'd like to hear the Italian one. I suspect deep down, he's much more of a tifoso than any of us realise.

There's also the Charles Leclerc of it all. Now really walk with me here because this is tenuous and yes is coming from a known Lestappie (tomato tomato) but isn't really a Lestappen argument.

Charles throughout his entire career has been obsessed with measuring himself up against those who are considered the "best of the best" and showing that he can beat them. He ate Seb alive, he'll likely do the same with Lewis. But both of these are drivers past their primes, at the very end of their lifespans. Charles has still yet to prove he can go toe to toe with a great at their prime and win.

Charles is, literally obsessed, with comparing himself to Max in interviews. Now (RIGHTLY SO) we Lestappies all point and laugh and call him a little obsessed but there's a very real publicity reason he wants to insist to everyone how him and Max were on each other's level in karting–people will subconsciously start to associate Charles as being on Max's level even if he hasn't proven it with championships. It's a very calculated move by Charles, and one I haven't seen many people discuss. Charles wants his name and Max's to be said in the same sentence because it validates Charles' own skill.

But Charles doesn't want to be known as Max's equal, not really, what he really wants is to be considered better than Max. And if he can't do that through number of championships, he can do it by putting the two of them in equal machinery. I think Charles will actually push Ferrari into trying to sign Max, because this is the way he can cement himself firmly as one of the greatest F1 drivers of all time.

So I think a perfect storm of these combination of different factors will result in a Max to Ferrari move in 2027. Obviously all pure speculation, but drawing everything together, I'd give it maybe a 50% chance (providing Ferrari actually do come together which, Forza).

[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your boss at The Last Drop

content: this fic is another multi-chapter work! i hope you enjoy.

content warning for this fic: depiction of sa (this chapter only), blood, slight gore/fight scenes, cursing, sexually explicit content. pretty heavy topics to be honest, it makes a lot of commentary on how it's like to live in Zaun. since this chapter has an sa scene (very lightly detailed scene but still hints to it), if you would like to skip that part, there will be three asterisks (***) that indicate when the scene begins and when it stops so that you can do what's safer for you. sa will not be talked about alot in depth for the rest of the chapters, and i will give a content warning to chapters that hint or reference it.

word count: 3k

thanks for reading!

Part One

When you are first hired at the Last Drop, it only takes 4 hours for Sevika’s name to circulate the building and make its way towards you. 

The first time you spot her, she is brushing through a crowd of drunkards, seemingly not wanting to be approached with an expression as hard as stone. The tall woman, attractive and large as she may be, is intimidating. Her figure, although only in your line of vision for a few seconds, is something made of pure muscle and height. You know that she could easily tower over you if she wanted. 

Despite her quick and fast entrance, it only takes your first day to realize that Sevika isn’t someone that you fuck around with. And based on the way that your coworkers and supervisors tense at the mere mention of her name, it’s obvious that she’s someone important here.

Throughout your first month at the Last Drop, any other appearances of Sevika is no different. Her steel cold stare could freeze anyone to death. You’ve seen her drag people upstairs only for them to never come back down (who knows what she or Silco did with the body?). You’ve seen the way she dominates the deadliest men–how she doesn't let them silence her. 

How she challenges them…

You've also seen the way that your coworkers have gotten their heart broken, hoping to be the one-night-stand turned lover that changes Sevika’s promiscuous ways. And every time, your coworkers end up heartbroken. Gender doesn’t really seem to matter with Sevika. She’s ruthless with everyone. She’s mean.

And, God, you really hate how much you like mean women.

At first, you thought it was amusing to be pining after her. It isn’t surprising, since you've had your fair share of passionate romances (and heartbreaks) with people similar to Sevika. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you can’t seem to stay away from them.

But now it’s been over a month and you can't help but wonder when the crush will dissipate. At this point, it's entirely inconvenient.

You've managed to keep yourself out of the limelight for the majority of your time at the Drop. You’ve found your rhythm by staying in the kitchen, away from the wandering eyes of questionable strangers. Away from Sevika.

But that only lasts for so long.

Amy, your boss, manages to shatter your Switzerland bubble on a Thursday evening at noon. It’s exactly the last thing you want to hear: “I need you to swap schedules with Janessa,” Amy barks.

It isn’t a suggestion or question. It’s a demand. 

Your mouth opens to object, already feeling that familiar pang of agitation within you. But Amy doesn’t hang around long enough to hear. 

“Thanks!” She calls over her shoulder, briskly walking behind the counter and towards the kitchen.

Your teeth grind and your jaw clenches. With balling fists, you stand there for a few more minutes. Trying to simmer down. Trying not to get fired.

You cook. You make new recipes. You may even help the dishwashers every once in a while (especially on nights that are packed). 

But you don’t buss and you don’t wait. That’s Janessa’s ballpark. She’s known as one of the best waiters in town. Her reputation followed her as she hopped in between different restaurants before landing at The Last Drop for good. She’s usually quick, efficient, polite but not too polite (no one ever could be considering the kind of people that this job attracts). 

The idea of Janessa swapping places with you in order to cook an overwhelming amount of food under the pressure of constant verbal abuse? That doesn’t sound right. 

Well, it doesn’t sound like something she would willingly do.

“I tried to help you out,” Max, your coworker, whispers. He clicks his tongue while washing down the countertop of the bar. You forgot that you were holding a conversation with him before Amy interrupted. “I overheard her talking to Nessa about it and offered the swap.” Max blinks through his thick lashes, which are covered with clumps of purple mascara, before he makes eye contact with you. “The bitch told me I wasn't qualified. Can you believe it?”

You snort underneath your breath, nearly choking at the idea of such a conversation happening.

Max—a petite curly-haired himbo with stunning hazel eyes and nails long enough to claw your heart out—most certainly isn't a popular bartender due to his skills. He has charisma, a charming personality and a smile that can make anyone stop in their tracks. He’s willing to listen to anyone that needs a shoulder to cry on (which is almost always every regular that comes here),  and he doesn’t mind sucking up to Amy as long as it means that he has full control of the bar. He’s been employed here long before Amy’s time, which you truly believe is his saving grace.

He knows the history, the neighborhood— the business very well.

But mixing drinks? Not his strong suit.

Seeing him out on the level ground with numerous tables to handle would be comical. A train wreck for sure, but definitely comical.

“Did she say why Nessa was swapping?” Self consciously, you peer at the rest of the pub over your shoulder. Everyone is seemingly out of earshot but it doesn’t hurt to be sure.

Max’s shoulders tense. He stops his scrubbing, right hand still holding onto his soaked disinfecting cloth as he sends you a sidelong glance. “Not my place to tell.”

The hairs stand up on your arms as you register his reply.

The sound of the entrance door opening is what shatters your reverie. Just like that, Max’s shoulders relax. A smile spreads across his face, this time not quite reaching his eyes, as he looks towards the door. “Welcome to The Last Drop!” He says, voice dipping into that flirtatious cadence you know all too well.

That is all he is going to say on the matter. You know Max doesn’t like gossiping about people’s shit. And your coworkers definitely have a lot of messy situations throughout their employment here. He wants no relation to any of it. 

You pick up on the hint, instead swallowing your curiosity and looking at the incoming customer. It’s one of the workers from the brothel across the street. She’s a leggy brunette with towering stilettos and a resting bitch face as cold as stone. She’s just as unapproachable as the last time you saw her. But there’s a spark in her eye when she regards Max. Based on her last few visits, you’ve grown to learn that she’s taking a liking to him.

“Well, that's my cue. I’ll leave you to…do your thing,” You mumble, fighting off a smirk. Max peers at you with a quizzical expression as you gesture vaguely to the bar around you. “Or whatever nonsense you do up here…”

“Hmph,” He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn't you be back there making shepherd's pie or something?”

“You mean working? Something you're not familiar with, I’m sure.”

“With a face card like this? I’m too fabulous to work.” He winks before gesturing towards his face. “A reality you're not familiar with, I’m sure.”

A laugh erupts out of you as you click your tongue. You’re walking towards the kitchen, ready to clock out for the day and finally rest, when you hear the lady of the night approach the bar. You believe her name to be Scarlett, and her voice is a low and silky murmur while she addresses Max.

When you glance over your shoulder, you can't help but notice the way her cleavage spills over her frilly corset top. Her braids are pulled into a bun on top of her head, eyes alluring as she peers at Max through thick long lashes.

Too caught up in all the glamor that Scarlett is, you walk right into a nearby wall (because that is unfortunately what happens whenever beautiful women are near you). 

Max and Scarlett immediately glance at you. Max, with that all-knowing smirk, and Scarlett's raised eyebrow is enough to make you want to dig yourself a grave.

But you don't. Instead, you clear your throat, apologize and shuffle to the kitchen with haste.

The air is thick with cigarette smoke.

That’s one of the reasons why you hate waiting. 

You don’t mind occasionally working in such an atmosphere. After all, you are one of the few chefs that regularly make an appearance everyday. So you’ve grown accustomed to walking through the boisterous crowds of smokers and drunken belligerents before and after your shifts.

But then, for the rest of the shit, you usually find solace in the kitchen—swallowed by plates and dishes and food and ingredients—which is more your forte.

“Hey pretty lady,” A bald, greasy buff man grumbles. His eyes are set on you yet simultaneously far away. Out of focus. “I’m getting hungry. Why don't you come over here and serve me?” Then he winks with a shit-eating grin that makes you queasy.

“You're not in my section,” You reply dryly with a shrug. “But I'll let Dylan know that you're ready to order.” 

“I don't want Dylan,” His eyes linger on your chest, before trailing down your entire physique. It's almost as if he allows his entire train of thought to become visible for everyone to read. 

Your teeth grind as you quickly scan the room once more. Dylan said that he was stepping out for a 5 minute smoke break 40 minutes ago. 

There's a part of you that doesn't want to give in. You don't mind being the one coworker that won't take on more tables than absolutely necessary. Especially when you were voluntold to switch job roles with someone you barely even know, and without even being told why.

If it wasn't so hard to find a job lately, you're pretty sure Amy’s management within itself would be enough encouragement for you to quit. But you really, really need the money. Despite the toxic work environment and occasional harassment from drunk citizens, this is the closest you've come to financial stability in years. You can’t afford to fuck it up.

A heavy exhale leaves you as you shift your feet. “Have you had a chance to look over the menu?” You ask, eying the man with distaste.

His grin widens. “No. What do you suggest?”

“Well, we offer a lot of stuff really. If you're in the mood for something more fulfilling, we have different stew dumplings. I'm not sure about your allergies though, most of the stews here are made with—”

“Surprise me,” Then he gives you another once over.

There is a part of you, a small part, that's tempted to reach across the table and rip out his eyes. You hate the feeling you experience when men unabashedly undress you with their eyes; especially when it’s from creepy old men. 

Even more so when said men don't know how to respect boundaries.

But you ignore the idea of doing such a thing. Instead, you turn on your heels and walk away.

Or, at least, you try to walk away. 

***

A tight grip wraps around your wrist, pulling so abruptly that you nearly fall over. It happens so fast that you barely register it. A breath, hot and pungent with liquor, travels across the base of your neck before meeting your nose. “You didn't ask me if I wanted anything to drink.” The man adds, voice low and gravelly.

Then more is happening...

And that's what makes you snap. 

Within seconds, you're reaching for your knife, which you had previously placed inside the pocket of your apron. 

A fire courses through your veins as you retract the blade.

“What the fuck!” The man yells, letting go of your wrist. He presses a palm against his right cheek, which now has a wide gash that is gushing with blood.

***

You don't give him time to say anything else. Your elbow comes in contact with his throat, jabbing his windpipe with as much force as possible. He staggers from the impact, landing with his back on top of the table behind him as he gasps for air.

Your knife, now dripping with his blood, digs into his chest. You hold it there, watching him wince when you apply pressure.

“If you ever so much as breathe in my direction again,” You mutter darkly. He’s squirming uncomfortably, a pool of blood soaking through his shirt as your knife continues to pierce his chest.

The pub has grown eerily silent and the heavy weight of countless eyes begins to register.

“I…I-I,” The man underneath splutters in shock. Beads of sweat gather around his forehead as he peers up at you through a cloud of fear. Thirty minutes ago, you’d have been surprised to find him roughed up by someone half his size, especially considering how large his biceps are. 

But then again, The Last Drop seems to be filling up with tons of useless goons nowadays.

“We’ll deal with him.” The voice that breaks your reverie is unrecognizable—feminine and raspy. 

That's when your head snaps up and you realize just how tense the atmosphere has become. Many citizens watch you silently, some mouths ajar while others look ready to egg you on. It's never really a typical Friday night at this place without people trying to drunkenly fight each other.

It's rare, though, that  employees become the main culprit.

Something moves closer to you—a person. “Hey, it's alright. I-”

Still on edge, you're quick to react. You inhale sharply, grip tightening around your knife with reflexes that feel like second nature.

A low growl fills the air, the sound of metal colliding with metal following soon after. Then your blade is being knocked out of your hand, something powerful grabbing both of your arms.

A flash of grey, the smell of cigarillo. Warmth. Undeniable warmth.

“Woah, it's just me." The voice is so close, yet so far away.

"Look-" Then... "Maxwell, I need you to come and help." The voice speaks again. This time even firmer. A woman’s voice. 

When your vision adjusts, you lock gazes with a pair of stormy grey irises. They're merely inches from yours, peering down at you with a gaze that is steady. 

That's when you realize that you can't move because she's practically towering over you. Holding you.

It’s Sevika.

You must have tried to attack her, clearly caught off guard. Surely, you hadn't meant to. For a split second, you lost it and now here she comes, seemingly out of nowhere. It was merely a reflex—a fight or flight response.

“It's me. Sevika," She announces, voice sharp as if she's trying to to speak through a wall. "I'm having them take him upstairs. He’ll be dealt with,” She repeats, almost as if it's a promise. She searches your eyes, grip loosening around your arms, “I’ll make sure of it.” She adds. Despite her expression being made of steel, there's something that flickers in her eyes. It appears only for a millisecond but it's glaring enough to somehow recenter you.

Her shoulders appear to relax when you start to feel present in the room again.

She waits for you to reply. And waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Then, “I can handle myself,” Is all that you manage to say. 

She stares at you for longer. You can see the gears in her brain shifting, but you aren't exactly sure of what to anticipate next, or even how to accept the fact that you just tried to attack your boss with a pocket knife.

“I’ve got her,” This time, the source is coming from someone familiar. Max. “It's okay,” He whispers, drawing closer. You feel him before you see him. The tips of his claw-like nails brush against your shoulders as he gingerly grabs a hold of you. 

Only then is when Sevika breaks your gaze, this time turning to Max. “Staff lounge.” The brute woman orders. 

“I’m fine.” You counter. 

The edge in your voice says otherwise.

“...Then I need you to grab Amy,” She continues, completely disregarding you. “I would like to know why we have a chef waiting tables during the busiest rush of the week—”

“I don’t need to go anywhere,” You press, voice raising a few decibels.

Sevika jaw’s clenches, icy eyes flickering towards you. “You nearly decapitated someone. You—”

“...I have four hours left. I will leave when my shift is complete.”

Her nose flares. “Lounge. Now.”

Before you can reply, she’s turning on her heels and walking away.

Unfortunately, Max agrees with Sevika.

It’s apparent in the way he immediately grabs your shoulders after her departure. Every citizen seems to be watching the entire escapade because this is the quietest you’ve ever heard the pub be during a rush hour.

“I’m fine!” You hiss, frustrated by the whole ordeal. You are perfectly capable of defending yourself. You don't need staff members to coddle you. “Seriously.”

Max doesn’t reply, merely huffing underneath his breath as he guides you past the bar and towards a back hallway that leads to another room. 

When the two of you have reached the lounge, he finally says, “You're shaking.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He leans forward, grabbing both of your hands,“ You're shaking.” He repeats, looking at you dead in the eyes. That's when he lets go and you peer down at your palms.

A frown spreads across your lips at the sight of your trembling fingers.

“You nearly killed the guy,” Max continues. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“It was only self-defense.”

“I'm not saying you were in the wrong,” A flicker of worry meets Max’s eyes. “That asshole deserves everything you did to him, probably more, But,” He winces. His gaze trails off to a distant place behind you. “Chef’s don’t usually do what you just did.”

Before you can reply to Max, the door flings open. In walks the petite redhead that you instantly knew to be Amy. She’s light on her feet, eyes alert and face flushed. At first, you’re surprised to see her in such a state. 

Shortly, though, Sevika enters the room. Then it all makes sense.

Sevika’s domineering in all aspects and has a ferocious air about her that can make anyone feel...tense. 

You thought she was the last of it, but another pair of footsteps walk-in behind her. 

“S-Sorry,” The person stammers, side stepping so they can scurry around Sevika and find a chair to sit in. The person is Dylan.

“This won't take long,” Sevika announces. She seems annoyed, not even looking at anyone else in the room. “Starting tomorrow, nothing about tonight will be brought up again. Now, Amy.” She turns to Amy, who instantly shrinks in her chair. “Why wasn't Janessa on the floor tonight?”

There's a beat of hesitation before, “She's working the kitchen now.”

Sevika’s nose flares. “If you moved her because of last week, I want you to think over your explanation very carefully.”

Another beat drags. Amy blinks. She gapes. She blinks once more. Her cheeks are tomato red at this point. “I-”

Sevika presses on. “Did Silco somehow change his mind?” 

“...No.”

“So you deliberately went against Silco’s orders and switched Janessa to the kitchen. Meanwhile,” Sevika’s eyes flicker to you. Your stomach lurches. “You make our only competent chef work the floor, after I told you that she isn't up for debate. And you expect me to show you mercy?”

Amy doesn't answer. She's on the verge of tears, which shocks you.

Amy is a bitch.

She’s known for brutally reaming people for simply breathing wrong. She doesn’t hold back and she doesn’t mind doing it in front of customers either. You know her to be stone cold. Heartless. Void of compassion and depth.

You never thought that you’d see the day where she’d get her ass handed to her.

Sevika turns to you, face filled with hard lines and calculating orbs. She stares at you for a few moments. You don't quite understand if she’s sizing you up or mentally chastising you. But you wait for her to fully collect her thoughts.

“If anyone touches you like that again,” She slowly begins, voice low. “You do what needs to be done. Whatever that means to you. Do you understand?” 

Your muscles freeze at her words.

No questioning? No reprimands?

“You aren't mad?” You clear your throat.

You were fully expected to get reamed for tonight.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, “Do you want me to be?”

Heat spreads across your body. You don't answer her question, deciding to move on. “Does Silco know about tonight?”

She grows more perplexed, “Do you want Silco to know?”

In the corner of your eye, you watch how stiff the rest of the staff members become. The room is so quiet that you nearly hear a pin drop.

It’s obvious that Silco finding out about this would cause a shit show.

Sevika takes your silence as an answer. 

“None of this will be mentioned again after tonight.” She breaks eye contact and turns to the rest of the room. “Is that clear?”

Everyone nods.

“And Dylan?”

Dylan jumps at the sound of his name. “Huh? I mean, yes? Y-Yes, ma’am?”

“If you disappear for that long again, you won't have a job to come back to.”

“Yes, ma’am. I-I mean,” Dylan blinks with swimming eyes. “Sorry.”

Sevika chooses then to shove her human hand into her pocket, glancing at you once more. When she retracts it, you notice that there is something shiny and silver that she's holding.

Your knife.

Silently, she holds it towards you. 

When your feet stay planted—brain struggling to process everything that's happening—she exhales heavily, evidently becoming impatient.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to close the distance. You grab your knife, knuckles grazing her palm, which ignites a static shock. Your fingers jump away from her instantly. If the skin contact startled her, her face doesn’t give it away.

“Thank you,” Is all that you say. You hate how vulnerable you sound.

She merely nods. Then, “He's upstairs, by the way. Definitely suffering from what you did to him but not harmed any further." She pauses, rubbing her lips together. "Did you want to come upstairs? It's your call on how you would like him to be handled."

You eyes widen at the realization.

She took him upstairs to do god know what (everyone knows that if Sevika takes you upstairs for any other reason than discussing business, then you probably aren't coming back down). You'd never thought she would include employees in such a thing.

Even with a matter such as this.

"I'll give you ten minutes to think about it," She continues on. "If you decide to come upstairs, he'll be waiting. Otherwise, go home. Tomorrow you'll return to the kitchen.” Then she turns on her heels, adding, “Amy, I expect your desk to be cleaned out by midnight.” Before she walks away. 

In the midst of her departure, your eyes begin to burn. 

Max and Dylan are already stepping out of the room, completely shaken up by the entire situation.

Being reprimanded by Sevika is never on anyone’s bucket list.

You idle there for a while, letting all of the events replay in your mind as your muscles start to unspool. Fidgeting with your knife, you allow the blade to extend. That’s when you notice that his blood has been cleaned off and your blade sharpened.

Amy wails pathetically while curling into herself. 

Her cries are nothing more than brown noise at this point. You're too preoccupied by the hammering of your heart, and the way that Sevika’s words have tattooed themselves onto your hippocampus:

If anyone touches you like that again, you do what needs to be done.

[op-sys-chaos]

Val is in 6th place*

Several DP rogues are directly under her on the leaderboard, some spots varying and some staying the same.**

Dash holds spot 15 pretty regularly, though sometimes his ranking slips when some of the tougher rogues show up

More of the rogues are scattered below Dash, some holding their spots consistently and some battling it out within a certain few places and constantly trading spots amongst themselves

Jason first came to the 25th monthly tournament. Lady Amy extended invitations to the other city ghosts to send their champions to compete. Only Lady Gotham responded at first, knowing Jason would get enrichment and enjoyment out of it. She was so proud of him for knocking Val out of the top 5 (she previously held the 5th spot) and taking 5th for himself.

The next month, Jason brought Harley along. Harley loved it, and comes back whenever she has time. She holds onto spot 8 pretty consistently whenever she competes. Harley brings Pam along half the time, and Pam either cheers from the stands while chatting with Sam and/or Undergrowth or participates herself. Pam’s placing wildly varies depending on who’s fighting that month. She’s usually somewhere in the top 10, though.

The month after, Jason brought Damian. He loved it too, and the two now have “monthly bonding” scheduled which is really just their joint trip to the Necrosis Arena.

After hearing about how much Lady Gotham’s knight, her harlequin, and her environmentalist loved it, Sir Metropolis decided to send a knight of his own. Superman so often had to hold back in fights. He might enjoy letting loose.

Superman was shocked to learn about his city spirit, but was willing to attend the tournament. After figuring out that yes, he really can let loose here, he slowly climbed through the ranks. Jason’s not afraid to bust out the kryptonite, and he respects Val and Sam a lot so he lent them some, so Clark can never beat those three. And he absolutely can’t beat the Phantom trio. So he’s usually around 7th or 8th on the charts, though he shows up maybe twice a year since he’s usually too busy. Superman agreed to keep the fights a secret because he knew the JL would try to shut them down.

By the 30th monthly tournament, other cities had started sending heroes and villains alike. At that point, it escapes containment and people found out. It became the worst kept secret in the hero and villain community. Knowing the issues this might cause, Lady Amy enforced a truce. Any travelers heading to or from the Necrosis Arena were under immunity, and anyone attempting to harm them would be banned from the tournament and unable to find the tournament until they agreed to keep the truce. If a hero made a mistake, not realizing the villain was traveling there, they were quickly forgiven. But if they truly could not keep the truce, they ended up banned from Amity entirely.

And actually, the heroes saw the benefit in that too. Villains who were in it for the love of violence ended up massively decreasing villainous activities because they got their fill at the Necrosis Arena, especially because they could stay and participate in the regular, non-tournament battles. There were people who had standing challenges with each other, ready to throw down at a moment’s notice when the other needed a fight due to bloodlust or whatever. Mostly, Lady Amy tried to pair up villains, but the Phantom trio also agreed to be on call if need be. They could even set up duplicates and let the duplicates “die dramatically” (complete with special effects) to fulfill the bloodlust for villains who truly needed to watch someone die.

And after a bloodlust episode like that, they were usually sent to the Arena’s resident therapist, Dr. Jasmine Fenton. She had a wonderful reputation for helping villains learn to process their emotions in non-violent ways, even fully rehabilitating a few of them.

The heroes, on the other hand, viewed the Arena as training. People with all kinds of powers (or none at all, just martial arts training) participated, giving them all types of combat practice. Plus, there were no stakes other than placement on a chart (except in the yearly tournament). They also took young protégés there to train in a low stakes environment, while also showing them how violent this job can get and asking if this is what they really want to do.

Word of the Necrosis Arena never reached non-hero/villain-associated civilian ears, thankfully. Lady Amy didn’t want this outlet for violence to turn into a public spectacle or a cash grab via betting - in fact, she’d strictly forbidden betting among Amity civilians who’d chosen not to participate. And the civilians who had heard of it knew better than to spread the word about it.

Eventually, the Necrosis Arena would gain something of a sacred status as a neutral battleground to be used for fun and training. Occasionally, people would settle disputes in one-on-one battles, but those were rare and usually handled somewhere where permanent damage to others had not been magically forbidden by a powerful entity. (Anyone who would have sustained a permanent injury was instead turned intangible by Lady Amy’s magic at the last possible second and declared to have lost the fight. Lady Amy’s magical presence covered the full arena, allowing her to easily accomplish this.) Some wanted that magical protection to avoid harming their enemies permanently while trying to handle situations, though, and so preferred the arena as a battleground to settle things.

However, as the arena’s prestige and patronage grew, Lady Amy’s power grew, and she was able to set a new system in place. The arena gained a sub-section called the Necrosis Court, where you could set terms and conditions for victory in a battle if you wanted to settle something via combat. For example, if you agreed to never kill again if you lost the fight, and then lost, you would be magically barred by Lady Amy’s power from ever killing again, a power backed by the city spirits who would help reinforce her spells when the subjects of them came to their cities.

Use of the Necrosis Court wasn’t common, though. Trial by combat had fallen out of favor, and was mostly used in extreme circumstances. However, Jason did manage to magically stop the Joker from killing people or indirectly causing someone’s death ever again, which was very impressive. It took a lot to get him to agree to that, and Jason had had to agree to let the Joker kill him again if he lost. Thankfully, he didn’t. The fight wasn’t even close; Jason had a lot on the line and fought like hell for it. Every Gotham hero and villain attended the fight, and they all rejoiced at the outcome, especially when they realized that the magical effects of the contract would force it to be kept. None of the Gotham villains were ever stupid enough to agree to something that drastic as a condition again, though. The Necrosis Court rarely saw use, but its use was certainly effective.

Most of the use of the Necrosis Arena was for fun and training, though. And Lady Amy enjoyed having it stay that way. As did the rest of the combat community. After all, there’s nothing quite like a fight to the death where no one can actually die.

*In the yearly tournament, Amity Parkers like Val rarely win. You can only win once before being barred to avoid someone claiming the massively coveted prize year after year, and they don’t want to be barred from the biggest fight of the year. So those who can win a top spot usually throw the fight once they reach the top ~20. Those who are there for the love of the fight will challenge those who reach the top spots to fun one v one battles the next day, but let those who are there for the prize actually compete to win it.

**As a side note, the board placement reflects who actively fought that month. They do keep notes next to the placements about previous title holders though. Basically, if Superman didn’t fight that month but was in 7th the last time he fought, under the person’s name in 7th is “Superman” in small letters. Sometimes there’s like 5 people who hold a small letter title under a spot, since they all each held that location the last time they fought but hadn’t fought in a while. There’s no limit on the small names under a position, and it’s always interesting when all of the small names show up at once. People love to see which 7th place holder is the true 7th place fighter. Those fights are always a hit.

DPxDC #14

Amity Park has been irrevocably changed due to the portal. The town is seeped with ectoplasm. The citizens have become liminal.

Amity Park has gained sentience, gained its own city spirit. Lady Amity, Lady Amy for short. Lady Amy has made sure that the needs of her people are being met.

Liminals need enrichment. So she created a coliseum, named Necrosis Arena. Citizens can fight whenever and whoever, even those from the realms. There is even a monthly tournament, open to all. The winner receives a weapon or something of equal value. In the yearly tournament, however, the winner can get anything they want (within reason) from the Ghost King.

Necrosis Arena has a leaderboard of the top 50 list of all fights. And a dedicated stats board for the top 10.

Talks about the coliseum break containment of Amity Park and reach the ears of the JL/JLD. Several people are sent out to investigate.

When the league gets to the coliseum they see something they never thought they would. There on the leaderboard in the number 5 spot is the name Jason Todd-Wayne - Red Hood, Knight of Lady Gotham. And coming in at number 25 Damian Al Ghul-Wayne - Robin, Knight of Lady Gotham.

[strnilolover]

NNN - chris sturniolo - long distances

You and Chris had been together for a little over a year, content with one another and the company each of you had to bring.

Before hand — you were good friends, best friends to be exact. Not with just him, but with his brothers too, and it was nice to know nothing really changed after putting a label on the two of you.

Chris and his brothers were already in their filming career when you had gotten together — making videos and posting them twice a week for their fan base that was already growing so large within a short amount of time.

Though, one day, while cuddled up with chris on your couch at your home — he broke the news to you.

He was moving to LA with Matt and Nick. Having already made enough money to afford a nice little place there. It was shocking to hear, and at first you were upset — upset with the fact you couldn’t see him everyday and you wouldn’t be around him when you needed him or wanted him.

But, the upset had been replaced with excitement over time. Thinking of all the possibilities for Chris and how amazing it was that he was able to do this with his brothers. And of all the stories you would be able to hear about his new life in a busy and bustling city.

When the day had finally come for him to move — it was spent with tears and hugs and promises to one another that everything would be okay.

And for the most part it was, you called every night — texted each other too many times through out the day and stayed connected. But, at some point things started to change. Chris grew more busy with work and with his clothing line he was starting, and the absence made you feel empty. Like he wasn’t even really there.

There were less calls, more messages being left on read or delivered — but Chris at least would tell you when he was busy and couldn’t talk, which you appreciated.

Eventually, everything began to weigh down on you. And you needed to tell him — needed to let him know how you were feeling. That you were having doubts.

-

Your room was quiet except for the faint hum of your laptop. Chris’ face filled the screen, his familiar features bathed in the soft light of his LA room. He looked tired, his curls messier than usual and his celtics hoodie hanging loosely on his frame. You tried to ignore the hollow ache in your chest as you smiled at him.

“How was your day?” you asked, forcing a casual tone as your eyes looked around your screen, taking in the view you’ve seen hundreds of times already.

Chris shrugged, leaning back against his chair. “Same as usual. Filmed with Nick and Matt, ran some errands. We tried this new sushi place for dinner. It was good, but, uh… not as good as Boston sushi.”

You let out a soft laugh, even though it stung a little. “Boston sushi is definitely better. How’s the apartment coming along?” you asked — a question that would slip here and there.

Chris shrugged slightly. “Fine, I guess. Still trying to figure out where to put everything. Matt thinks we need more stuff on the walls, but Nick keeps saying we don’t. It’s a whole thing.” He gave a faint smile, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “What about you? How was work?”

“Busy,” you said simply, picking at the edge of your blanket. “Came home, made dinner… I made too much again. I keep forgetting I’m just cooking for one now.” you admitted. Being so used to his presence all the time, you often made dinner for two people — it was still a hard adjustment.

Chris’ smile faltered, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

You shook your head quickly, brushing it off. “It’s not your fault. I just need to get used to it still — even if it’s been a little.”

The conversation then faded into silence, and for a moment, all you could hear was the faint rustle of Chris adjusting his laptop. He looked away, his jaw tense, and you felt the words building in your chest — words you’d been too scared to say for weeks right on the tip of your tongue.

It was now or never.

“Chris,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we… uhm - can we talk about us?” the words slipping past your lips felt like a burn on your own tongue.

His gaze snapped back to you, his expression guarded. “What about us?”

You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I just… I feel like things have been different lately. At first, we were doing so well — texting all the time, FaceTiming every night. But now… I don’t know. It feels like we’re drifting apart.”

Chris’s brows furrowed at your words, his shoulders visibly tensing. “I’ve noticed it too,” he admitted after a pause. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

You blinked, surprised by his honesty. “You didn’t think I’d feel the same?”

“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t want to say anything and make you think I was doubting us or something. And I’m not. I love you. But this…” He gestured vaguely, his hand moving between him and the screen. “This is hard. Harder than I thought it’d be.”

The crack in his voice made your heart ache, but you nodded, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. “It is hard. I miss you so much, Chris. Some nights, it’s all I can think about — how empty this place feels without you here. And then I start wondering… what if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”

Chris’s eyes widened slightly, his panic evident. “Wait, are you saying you want to—”

“No!” you interrupted quickly, shaking your head. “No — Chris, that’s not what I mean. I just… I don’t know how to fix this. And I hate feeling like we’re not as close as we used to be.”

Chris let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping. “I feel the same way,” he said quietly. “I hate that I can’t just drive over and see you when you’ve had a bad day. I hate that I can’t be there to hold you. And honestly… sometimes, I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“You’re not,” you said firmly, leaning closer to the screen. “Chris, you’re doing the best you can. We both are. But we need to be honest with each other if we’re going to make this work.”

He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “You’re right. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to make things worse, but… I guess that’s only made things harder. I’ve missed you so much, and it’s been killing me not to tell you how much I’ve been struggling with this.”

Tears now spilled down your cheeks, and you wiped them away quickly with your sleeve. “I’ve been struggling too. And I was scared to tell you because… what if it made you think I didn’t believe in us anymore? I do, Chris. I love you so much. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with all of this on my own.”

His expression softened, and he leaned closer to the camera, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to deal with it alone, okay? We’re in this together. And if that means being brutally honest about how much this sucks sometimes, then that’s what we’ll do.”

You laughed softly through your tears, nodding. “Deal. And… maybe we can try to plan our visits better. I need to see you, Chris. I think that’ll help a lot.” you whispered, feeling yourself ease up a little at the thought of him here — with you.

His lips quirked into a small smile. “Funny you should say that… I’ve been looking at flights to Boston. I was going to surprise you, but… maybe we need this sooner rather than later. I’ll come next month. No excuses.”

“Really?” you asked, your heart swelling with hope.

“Really,” he said, his smile growing. “I need to hold you again. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”

A weight lifted from your chest, and you smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks. “I’ll hold you to that,” you teased, your voice lighter.

Chris chuckled, the sound warming your heart. “I love you. And no matter how hard this gets, I’m not giving up on us. Ever.”

“I love you too,” you said softly. “And I promise… I’ll do everything I can to make this work too.”

It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. The rest of the night felt lighter — the ache in your chest still present but less. You both were more cheerful — joking around about random things and teasing him about how his hair was too messy — along with his room.

You smiled at your screen, watching as Chris did the same. His hand coming up to his lips and blowing you a kiss through the screen — and you blushed.

You’re just hoping that whatever was said tonight…was going to stick.

© strnilolover

[aroace-insert-reader]

hey!

okay, so as a person who suffers with chronic headaches, lacks motivation for assignments, and generally feel like a ghost of myself, could you write something involving Katsuki Bakugo? free reign here, feel free!

Absolutely! I hope this is along the lines of what you're wanting 🤍

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

**all pairings on this blog are platonic**

Your phone buzzed for the 7th time in the last 5 minutes.

You don’t want to answer.

Your head’s pounding and you have a mountain of homework to keep procrastinating.

You should probably get started on that.

Eventually.

Another buzz.

You should probably get up and figure out who’s trying to get a hold of you.

It’s hard to do anything when you feel like this.

There’s a loud bang at your dorm door.

“—YOU HAVE 60 SECONDS TO GET TO THIS DOOR BEFORE I BLAST IT DOWN, DUMBASS!”

So that’s who’s trying to get a hold of you.

“It’s unlocked, Bakugou. If you’re so insistent on coming in,” you reply.

The door clicks open, and light cascades into your room. You squint at the assault against your headache.

“What are you doing, stupid?” Bakugou starts as he stomps into your room. “I told you and the other idiots that we were going over the homework today. I don’t like wasting my time waiting.”

“I don’t recall asking for your help.”

“Really.” He gives a pointed look at the stack of abandoned textbooks on your desk.

You… don’t have much to say to that.

“Seriously what’s your deal?” Bakugou stares down at you.

“Headache.” It’s mostly the truth.

Bakugou turns and leaves, leaving your door wide open.

Rude.

You should probably get up and close it.

Probably.

Suddenly you’re being jerked upright and pulled to sit in your desk chair. A water bottle and some pain meds are shoved into your hands.

Baffled, you look up to see Bakugou straightening your covers and clearing off your nightstand.

“Wha? What are you doing?”

Bakugou whips his head around to glare at you. The dino plush of yours that he’s holding slightly lessens the effect.

“Take the meds.”

“Okay…?” So, you do.

By the time you're done, your bed and nightstand are mostly clean.

“Have you eaten yet today?”

“…No.”

Bakugou once again stomps out and comes back not 10 minutes later with steaming leftovers you know are from his personal stack in the common room fridge.

You'd mention this if not for the fact it smells mouth watering and you know that this will probably never happen again.

As you eat, Bakugou clears and organizes your desk.

When you both finish, Bakugou turns to fix you with a hard stare.

"Now, we're getting started on this." He says, pointing at the now manageable stacks of textbooks and assignments.

With the exaggerated groan you let out, you forget to notice how much better you're feeling already.

-----

After a few hours later you're well-fed, your headache is mostly gone, you have a decent start on your mountain of assignments, and you feel a little less like a shell of yourself.

It's easy to forget how much having a friend around helps.

“Hey, Bakugou. Thanks.”

“Whatever. Just remember I don’t waste my time on lost causes.”

He turns his face away from you.

Heh… softy…

“Lost causes? Well, that just sounds like quitting to me.”

“Huh?! What’d you say to me?!”

[chocoqtelle]

inner child pac reading

🦀 pile one,,

I know we're used to being super helpful, but it's good to help yourself too. you should always make sure you're okay first. It's important for us to be okay, even if other people don't think so. we should think so. things are gonna be okay for us. they always are. I want to do the things we like. I don't understand why you care about what people think now. I think we should try doing what we like more, even if it's embarrassing. it doesn't have to take a lot of time. it's just good to have fun sometimes. maybe you can get back into some of our old interests if you want?

it seems like this pile had to mature quickly and was overly generous in childhood. this likely led to some people pleaser habits. when the world said "be nice" and "care about others" you took it to heart, but it felt like you were the only one who did. you felt like you had to be the adult in your childhood and care for other people around you. for some of you, you may have had to care for a parental/older familiar figure or your siblings. you're used to changing your words and your personality to be more digestible and gentle because this strong fear of conflict. you were scared of people being mean to you, so you avoided making anyone mad. it was like you were always tiptoeing over eggshells. now, you don't have to, so there's no point in worrying about people who don't worry about you. you'd be doing yourself and your inner child a favor by doing what you want. it might feel wrong to be yourself, but at least try. I won't delve too much into this part, but I believe some people in this pile also dealt with being oversexualized or being hyper sexual at a young age. I think it's important to know you're more than what you can give others for this pile. please also take a break for the love of god.

🐸 pile two,,

It's hard to feel loved if nobody shows you. at the same time, i don't think I'd want to be loved. it seems weird and uncomfortable. I'm not used to it so it's scary. I still wish that someone would care at least. it feels like nobody else cares. I'm really tired of things being silent and boring all the time. I want to do something fun. I want friends but I want to be by myself. people think I'm weird, but I think they're the weird ones. they can avoid me but I wouldn't wanna be friends with them anyway. it doesn't matter if it's lonely, I don't feel less lonely around people anyway. some people think I'm mean. I don't think I'm mean. i heard I look mean or I act mean sometimes, but what if that's just who I am? I don't try to be mean to people. I just don't want people to hurt me.

holy neglect trauma... there's a lot to unpack here �� first off, I hope you're alright. it seems like this pile never really learned how to interact with people and is probably still a bit of a people hater. this pile has had to keep strong boundaries and walls on to protect themselves from unfamiliar experiences (being spoken to positively.) if you've never experienced something, it can be scary but you have to stop thinking every little thing is gonna go wrong in your life. it's fine. separate note but I think someone's ancestors are very present here, might want to connect with them if you don't already. you can try to shut down the feelings of loneliness and pretend connection won't help but it does. you're probably not connected with your inner child or you're ashamed of yourself for some reason. trying to be cold won't undo anything or save you from the feelings you're hiding. you'll have to acknowledge them at some point. escapism and forcing ignorance wont help forever. hopefully it'll be sooner than later, but that's your choice. it's okay to be soft, btw.

🐕 pile three,,

I know what I'm talking about. I'm serious. I wish people would take me more seriously. i get good grades, I study hard, I always prove how smart I am. for some reason, people still act like I'm too young and stupid to have opinions or that what I say is just silly, especially with emotions. they act like having emotions makes you a less rational person. some people look down on me for who I am, too. it's not something I can change. whether it's gender, age, or whatever, people always want an excuse to ignore how I feel or what I have to say. I know I'm right though. I don't want us to stop expressing ourselves. I wanna share how I feel to the world.

this pile is extremely opinionated and knows how to share their emotions. this pile is for the "bossy" kids who "should have been lawyers" or "a CEO" according to every adult around them. you were emotional as a child and it was always ignored or joked off as if your feelings were invalid. this pile is definitely natural-born leaders so if you aren't/never have been aspiration-driven or "extra" this pile probably isn't yours. the most healing thing you can do for yourself at this point is speak up. continue to speak about everything. share your opinion more, it's safe now and people will actually take you seriously. be emotional, be too much, be annoying, be talkative, be over-opinionated, be everything you feel like being and don't let anyone talk you out of it. lead your life how you want to. call everything out, even if it means being weird. I definitely feel like some people in this pile had the gifted kid experience or liked to read a lot when they were younger. there's also some unresolved anger that might need to be taken care of. I think speaking up more instead of bottling feelings up will definitely help that, though. you're not stupid or weak for being emotional. just be yourself unapologetically and that's the best thing you can do for your younger self.

[alovelyfrenchworld]

Your Neighborly Orc Part 2

The journey home was short and once there, you settled in quickly. As a heavy snow storm began, you lit a small fire in the hearth. There was no way you'd be able to journey out again, so you figured you'd make the best of what you had.

Your cat curled up on the wuant rug by the fire as you seated yourself in the armchair just beside. Armed with a wool blanket and a book on medicinal herbs gave you the chance to get comfy quickly. Even during your free time and isolation from primary civilzation meant that you'd want to amke yourself useful for fun. Maybe you could concoct a new tea for immunity. Sufficiency was key.

*********

A few days passa and as expected, your kindling was running low.

You prepared yourself and left home for the woods again when you were met with a surprise.

The orc frm the other day was across the river, this time paired with a bow. Hunting, presumably. You went on with your task, bundling and lifting your stack of logs when a patch of ice hidden by powdery nsnow caused you to slip. Landing in the freezing water, your logs falling with you - now soaked and useless.

"Damn it!" You cursed, feeling that your hard work was wasted. Before you could make an attempt to stand, large hands enveloped you and lifted you out of the water and set you down on the bank.

"What the f-," you sputtered.

"Are you alright?" the orc asked, concern in his eyes.

Frustrated with yourself, you reply, "Physically. But now I have to start over."

The temperature of the great outdoors suddenly began to affect you. You shivered, understanding the precarity of your condition in this sort of weather.

"You're in no shape to be doing anything. You need to get out of these clothes before you freeze to death." He pointed to the collar of your collar, careful not to actually touch you.

Feeling exposed, you smacked his hand away and raised your arm to your chest.

"Do not worry," he chuckled hoarsely, almost out of nervousness, "I am not here to violate you. I only mean to comment on your well-being."

His kindness was shocking, but not totally unwelcomed.

Before you could properly reply, you were lifted bridal style.

"Whoa, whoa! This is unnecessary and preposterous!" You flail in his arms, making his grip strengthen to keep you safely in place.

"Humans," he scoffed, "too prideful."

Embarassed by your outburst, your face fell isntantly.

"Now," he said less gruffly, "where to?"

Realizing that a stranger wanted to know where you lived was frightening, but you were already in a vulberable position. Either way, you were compromised.

You gave him diretion to your little cottage, getting to know each other along the way, even exchanging names. He revealed his name to be Gûruk, and that he lived in a nearby orc settlement across the river. He told you hwo the settlement was at the edge of the territory, which explained why you'd sen him of late.

As he approached your door, he set you down on the stoop, and backed away.

"You need to be more careful, Y/N." He was right, but you would never tell him that.

"I will try," you grinned, "thank you, Gûruk."

He nodded in acknowledgement, looking around your homestead. He said nothing as he turned to walk away.

You questioned if this exit was typical of orcs or if you had made him uncomfortable.

You hoped you'd cross paths again so you could thank him properly without him feeling the need to leave.

Hopefully soon, Gûruk.

Tags:

@yourlittlehoe

@lem-hhn

[thatbadassauthor]

✡ Alastor x Fem!FallenSeraphim!Reader ✡

@BlazeTheCatPrincess ON WATTPAD. I know it's not really what you asked for but take this while I'm working on it. This was inspired by your request but dw I'm still doing your request.

~

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You don't ever speak to him, except the few moments you'll walk past him and share a quick hello. You both clearly respect each other, yet aren't at all more then acquaintances.

..Until, you're not. And you have a certain cat demon to thank for that.

⚠️ Trigger Warning; ⚠️

Mentions of Falling from Grace.

Mentions of Religion.

Profanity.

Alcohol indulgence.

Mentions of Light Gore, nothing too explicit.

──── ୨୧ ────

You joined the Hazbin Hotel around a year ago, for your own.. reasons. Being an infamous Overlord, you helped Charlie and the rest of the hotel staff with your wide range of abilities. Sure, Alastor was helping too, but there are things he couldn't do. As there was things he could do you couldn't. Despite not talking often, you definitely work together exceptionally well. You both know how to get things done, after all.

You've always been a mystery, that's how you liked it. The less people know about you the better, but Charlie's never minded. Especially since Vaggie threatens you the least out of everyone here. After you fought for them at the Extermination, Vaggie has been oddly nice. Charlie takes it as just some character development, but you know the true reason. She knows.

Knows you're a fallen angel.

Of course you don't have anything to give that away, you know how to keep your secrets. But it's as if now she's seen how you fight she can taste the angelic blood. No one else knows, but you suppose as a fallen excorsist if anyone would figure it out, it's her.

-

As you're an Overlord, you'd think you'd have something with The Radio Demon. Something like a rivalry, or maybe a bond. But nope. You don't ever speak to him, except the few moments you'll walk past and say a quick hello. You both clearly respect each other, yet aren't at all more then acquaintances. Of course you've had your moments where you've thought about trying to start a bond with him, but that's only out of curiosity. You know how YOU got your power so quickly, but for some mortal to get power that quick? Who wouldn't be at least some form of intrigued.

You're currently sitting at the bar with Husk, the gruff cat demon grumpily passing you a shot of vodka. He slides it over the bar to you, and you stop it from falling with your powers before using one finger to trace the rim of the glass.

"Why don't you talk to Alastor more? I mean it ain't any of my business, and I don't really care.. but I feel like everyone expects you two to get along most?" Husk inquiries with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious despite denting such.

"Oh please, I do things with reason. I have no reason to.. bond with him, if that's what you're implying. As for the expectation of us getting along, whatever would make you all think such?" You reply simply, yet internally question the topic at hand. You'd think Husk wouldn't want to talk about anything regarding Alastor, he doesn't exactly hide his distaste for the deer demon.

"I mean.. you're both Overlords. And everyone saw how you two work together. I ain't tryna get in your business or somethin', just sayin'.. You compliment each other." The bartender says with a shurg, wiping a glass with a rag. His paw holds the fabric carefully, the cat demon keeps his eyes locked on the glass. As if he's being extra careful with his words, making sure he doesn't accidentally strike a nerve with someone who could easily snap his neck with a claw.

"Mhm, any Overlord can work with another when they want to. Besides, I don't hate him. We just.. have no reason to speak. He does actions with reason as much as I do, I respect him for that. But I don't get your point regarding.. "Us complimenting each other." As you so bluntly put it." You respond casually, grabbing the glass and sipping on it casually.

Of course you respect the demon, he's done nothing to not earn that in your eyes. Though you think about the bartender's suggestion a little more then you thought you would.. What if you were to bond with Alastor, maybe even court him. You immediately shake the thought out of your mind, why would you ever do something so silly? You can't deny he's powerful, but you barely even speak to him. You have no reason to.

"All I'll say is give it a shot. Give him a shot, you'll thank me later."

-

And you did exactly that, later that night you had walked up to The Radio Demon and discussed how he killed his last victim. It was very creative actually, ripping out his guts and then strangling him with his own intestines. Oh his screams were almost heavenly, the closest you'll get to Heaven nowadays. You don't miss it, at all. Sera was a bitch, Lute too.

And surprisingly, that night went really well. It was nothing extreme at all, but definitely improvement. You couldn't deny it, Husk had a point. He did compliment you in a lot of ways, especially his snarky humor matching your sarcastic one. Oh, and the mutual sadism and power. That too.

After that day you started to talk with The Radio Demon a lot more, each time Husk would be somewhere with a knowing smile. One time he even brought you over to Cannibal Town, and he constantly mentioned how he was older then you. Well it is true he's been in HELL longer then you, you decided to keep to yourself the fact you were made centuries before the 1900s.

The tidy town had reminded you a lot of Heaven, and apart from the embassy it's the closest thing to Heaven down here. Of course it's no where near Heaven at all, but compare it to the ruthless streets of Pentagram City.. Yeah.

You'll definitely have to repay Husk sometime, but that's not important right now.

-

Currently the hotel is beaming of energy, the atmosphere as warm and welcoming as ever. Since the renovations, it's been a lot more lively with more patrons, much to Charlie's delight. Charlie is seen on the other side of the lobby, welcoming in an aquatic pair of sinners to their rooms. Vaggie trails behind Charlie and the demons, as if to make sure they won't do anything shady to the naive princess. Charlie thinks it's a bit much and that she needs to be more trusting, yet Vaggie will always be her guard dog. Whether Charlie likes it or not, it's in Vaggie's nature.

Angel is seen pestering the bartender with his sexual remarks, laying his long body of the counter much to Husk's annoyance. The cat demon looks at the arachnid fondly however, much to his own annoyance. And Nifty is out of the hotel, presumably stabbing some of the little critters she obsesses over so much out on the roof.

Being your ever playful self, you decide to find something to entertain yourself before the Overlord meeting later. You use one of your angelic abilities to turn invisible. Well, more so into holy light. But since you're in Hell, all it does is make you invisible. Which is actually helpful, being a fallen angel has it perks.

You walk up behind your good friend, which earned an ear flick yet he doesn't seem to know you're there. Obviously he senses someone, but he presumes it's just his powers flaring up. Sometimes it tends to do that, as his static can sense air frequency yet it flares up just due to the noise.

Suddenly he feels a soft, warm feeling on his senstive deer ears. Immediately his body tenses up, and his grip on his newspaper tenfolds. His clawed fingers rip through the paper effortlessly, his eyes widened and on alert. But before he can react he let's out a whimper. One that sounds awfully pleased. He immediately covers his mouth, yet luckily everyone is too preoccupied to notice his reaction. He lets out a soft, embarrassed moan before his ears bend down out of your grip.

"Who wants to lose a limb today? HAHA." Alastor suddenly declares before looking behind him. Only in the most unsettling way possible, bending his head impossibly back behind him with his neck outstretched only to see no one. He straightens up after placing down the newspaper, and turns his whole body to face your direction.

Seeing no one, he immediately pieces it together. You're the only one who can turn invisible apart from himself, after all. "My darling, at least play your ridiculous pranks somewhere more private? I have a reputation to uphold."

You manifest before him expectedly after being called out, wearing a cheeky smirk that could rival the Jokers. You show absolutely no regret of remorse, not to The Radio Demon's surprise. You simply snicker as he rolls his eyes, you're damn lucky. Any other demon would've lost their limb as soon as he regained his senses.

Despite being a fellow Overlord, he definitely trusts you. You've bonded a lot over these years, dare he say you could rival Rosie for his affections. He simply waves a hand dismissively, stopping the sarcastic excuse before you can say it.

"You think you're funny darling? Well, two can play that game." The deer demon suddenly exclaims, which makes you cross your arms over your chest.

Your eyes glint with defiance, yet anticipation. Your wings almost flare out instinctively to challenge him, though you stop them before they do so. He doesn't know you're a fallen angel after all. You only let your black regal wings out when threatening and killing your victims, so no one is ever alive to tell the tale. To expose your little secret.

"Oh really?" You say, not afraid but definitely anticipating what he has planned. Surely he won't go too extreme, but you are well aware of how he likes to return favours..

"I can't wait for our meeting, my dear darling. See you later, I'll be waiting."

Oh, you had forgotten about that. You know you're in for it now. But why does that send a shiver down your spine?

──── ୨୧ ────

1748 WORDS <3 A nice and quick one. Also there's a lot of time skips becuz I'm lazy asf.

[elryuse]

Hi I love reading all the stories you put out especially the yandere ones. If it is possible, can you make a kazuha and han sohee x male reader story where both of them are famous idol/actress and fall very hard for y/n to the point where they can't see themselves living without him?

CAUGHT IN THE ACTION

YANDERE HAN SO HEE & KAZUHA X MALE READER

Kazuha, a fragile flower amidst the ruthless storm of the entertainment industry, found solace in a small, unassuming restaurant. The owner, Y/n, a beacon of warmth and kindness, offered her more than just sustenance. His gentle spirit and unwavering support nourished her soul, igniting a spark of hope within her.

One day, her stomach growled in protest, a desperate plea for sustenance. With her pockets empty, she wandered the streets, her gaze drawn to the small restaurant. The aroma of freshly cooked food wafted through the air, a tantalizing torture. She hesitated, her pride warring with her hunger. But the gnawing emptiness in her belly won. She stepped inside, her head bowed in shame.

Y/n, noticing her frail figure and the haunted look in her eyes, prepared a hearty bowl of ramen, insisting she eat. As she devoured the meal, tears welled up in her eyes. Not just from the delicious food, but from the overwhelming kindness. Y/n's compassion, a rare gem in the harsh world of entertainment, ignited a spark within her. She realized that she had found not just a source of nourishment, but a beacon of hope.

Meanwhile, Han So Hee, a dazzling star, was trapped in the suffocating darkness of depression. On the brink of despair, she stumbled upon the same restaurant, seeking refuge from the tempest raging within her. She stood on the edge of the rooftop, the wind whipping at her hair. The city lights stretched out before her, a breathtaking panorama, but it held no allure for her.

"I feel the wind in my back and my hair," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I've finally decided to end it. To end it here, now. I wish for someone... Someone to save... Me... I... I... (Cry) I want someone to save me."

As she took a step forward, Y/n emerged from the darkness. He rushed towards her, pulling her into a tight embrace. In that moment, So Hee felt a surge of emotion, a mix of relief, gratitude, and a strange sense of peace. She had been on the brink, ready to surrender to the darkness, but Y/n had reached out and pulled her back.

From that day forward, the little restaurant became her sanctuary. Y/n's unwavering support and understanding helped her navigate the treacherous waters of her mental health. She found solace in his presence, a comfort she had never known before.

As fate would have it, these two women, worlds apart, found themselves drawn to the same man. Their paths intertwined, a delicate dance of longing, obsession, and betrayal.

Kazuha, with her innocent heart, had fallen deeply in love with Y/n. She cherished every moment spent with him, her world revolving around his presence. However, her love was a fragile bloom, vulnerable to the harsh realities of the entertainment industry.

So Hee, on the other hand, was consumed by a possessive love. Her fragile mental state, coupled with her intense feelings for Y/n, made her a dangerous force. She saw Kazuha as a threat, a rival who dared to encroach upon her newfound happiness.

As their feelings intensified, a toxic triangle formed, fueled by jealousy, obsession, and a desperate desire for love. Kazuha, oblivious to the danger lurking in the shadows, continued to pour her heart out to Y/n. So Hee, meanwhile, watched their interactions with a growing sense of resentment and envy.

One fateful night, So Hee confronted Kazuha, her voice laced with venom. "Stay away from him," she hissed, her eyes burning with rage. "He's mine."

Kazuha, stunned by the accusation, could only stare at So Hee, her heart heavy with confusion and hurt. She had never imagined that her innocent love could provoke such intense hatred.

As the tension between the two women escalated, Y/n found himself caught in the crossfire. He loved both women, but he knew that he could only choose one. His heart ached as he realized that his decision would inevitably lead to heartbreak.

In a desperate attempt to protect Kazuha, Y/n tried to distance himself from So Hee. However, So Hee was not one to be deterred. She resorted to desperate measures, using her influence to sabotage Kazuha's career and manipulate Y/n's emotions.

Kazuha, weakened by the relentless attacks, found herself spiraling into despair. Her once bright future seemed to be fading away, a victim of So Hee's twisted obsession.

But no, As it turned out this event only worsened the fate of the three, as Kazuha and So Hee kept coming over and over. Their tounge spitting their deepest hatred and anger for each other. It only made Y/n more and more worrisome.

The tension between Kazuha and So Hee reached a boiling point. Their obsession with Y/n had spiraled out of control, transforming them into dangerous, possessive beings. Each saw the other as a threat, a rival who dared to claim Y/n's love.

Kazuha, once a fragile and innocent soul, had hardened into a fierce protector. She would do anything to keep Y/n safe, even if it meant resorting to extreme measures. She watched his every move, monitoring his interactions with others, and eliminating any potential threats.

So Hee, driven by her own twisted desires, became increasingly volatile. She would resort to drastic measures to keep Y/n's attention, from public displays of affection to private threats. She would stalk him, eavesdrop on his conversations, and even break into his home.

Y/n, caught in the crossfire, was terrified. He loved both women, but he knew that their love was destructive. He tried to reason with them, to calm their passions, but it was futile. They were beyond reason, consumed by a love that had turned toxic.

One night, a terrifying incident occurred. Kazuha and So Hee confronted each other, their eyes filled with hatred and jealousy. The once peaceful restaurant turned into a battleground, the air thick with tension. As the two women fought, Y/n was caught in the crossfire, sustaining serious injuries.

"Stop!" Y/n cried out, his voice filled with fear. "This has to end!"

But Kazuha and So Hee were blinded by their obsession. They continued to fight, their blows landing with increasing force. Y/n watched in horror as the two women he loved tore each other apart.

In the end, Y/n was forced to make a difficult decision. He chose to distance himself from both women, hoping to break free from their suffocating grip. He disappeared, leaving Kazuha and So Hee heartbroken and desperate.

Kazuha and So Hee, now united in their sorrow, vowed to find Y/n. They searched high and low, their obsession driving them to the edge of madness. They would stop at nothing to bring Y/n back, even if it meant destroying themselves in the process.

As the story unfolds, the lines between love and obsession blur, and the consequences of their actions become increasingly dire. Will Y/n ever find peace, or will he be forever haunted by the love and obsession of two women who have lost themselves in the darkness?

Y/n, though physically distant, remained a constant presence in Kazuha and So Hee's minds. They dreamed of him, longed for him, and plotted ways to bring him back into their lives. Their obsession had consumed them, turning their once vibrant personalities into shadows of their former selves.

Kazuha, fueled by a desperate love, delved deeper into the world of darkness. She learned to manipulate people, to bend them to her will. She became a master of disguise, a chameleon who could adapt to any situation. Her sole purpose was to find Y/n and bring him back to her.

So Hee, driven by a similar obsession, turned to dangerous methods. She sought help from a shadowy organization, a group of individuals who specialized in finding lost people. In exchange for their services, she offered her fame, her fortune, and even her soul.

As time passed, Kazuha and So Hee's paths crossed, their shared obsession bringing them together. They formed an uneasy alliance, their mutual hatred for Y/n's disappearance binding them together. Together, they embarked on a dangerous quest, a journey that would test the limits of their sanity.

Meanwhile, Y/n, hiding in plain sight, struggled to escape the past. He had changed his appearance, his identity, but he could not escape the haunting memories of Kazuha and So Hee. He lived in constant fear, always looking over his shoulder, dreading the day when they would find him.

As the two women closed in on Y/n's whereabouts, the tension reached a fever pitch. A final confrontation was inevitable, a clash of wills that would determine the fate of all three. The once peaceful world of Y/n was now a battlefield, a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

The final confrontation unfolded in a deserted warehouse, a fitting stage for the climax of this twisted tale. Kazuha and So Hee, their eyes burning with intensity, faced off against Y/n.

"You can't escape us, Y/n," Kazuha hissed, her voice laced with venom. "We'll always find you."

So Hee echoed her words, her voice filled with a chilling determination. "You belong to us, and only us."

Y/n, cornered and outnumbered, knew that he had to fight back. He fought with a desperation born of desperation, his every move a desperate attempt to survive. But Kazuha and So Hee were relentless, their attacks precise and deadly.

As the battle raged on, the warehouse became a scene of chaos and destruction. Broken glass, shattered furniture, and a trail of blood marked the intensity of the fight. Y/n, weakened and injured, was pushed to his limits.

In a final, desperate move, Y/n turned the tables on his attackers. He used their own obsession against them, manipulating their emotions and exploiting their weaknesses. He played on their fears, their hopes, and their desires, driving them to the brink of madness.

As the dust settled, Y/n stood victorious, his opponents defeated. But his victory was bittersweet. He had survived, but at a great cost. The love he once shared with Kazuha and So Hee had been tainted by obsession and violence.

The aftermath of the confrontation left Y/n scarred, both physically and emotionally. He was forced to live with the knowledge that he had destroyed the lives of the two women he once loved.

The aftermath of the confrontation left Y/n scarred, both physically and emotionally. He had escaped the clutches of Kazuha and So Hee, but the experience had left him traumatized. He retreated into solitude, seeking solace in isolation.

However, the two women were not ready to give up. They had become addicted to the thrill of the hunt, the obsession consuming their every thought. They continued to search for Y/n, their determination unwavering.

Years later, Y/n, now living a quiet life under a new identity, was finally caught. A trap had been set, a carefully crafted illusion that lured him in. As he stepped into the dimly lit room, he was greeted by the sight of Kazuha and So Hee, their eyes gleaming with a sinister light.

They had found him.

Y/n was overpowered and restrained, his body bound and his mouth gagged with their panties. He was imprisoned in a luxurious yet sinister chamber, a captive in their twisted game. Kazuha and So Hee, now partners in crime, reveled in their control over him.

As days turned into weeks, Y/n endured a living nightmare. He was subjected to their whims, forced to endure their twisted fantasies. Kazuha and So Hee, their obsession reaching its peak, took pleasure in his suffering.

One night, as Y/n lay helpless on the bed, Kazuha and So Hee emerged from the shadows, dressed in seductive lingerie. They approached him with a mixture of cruelty and desire, their eyes filled with a dark, twisted glee.

"Time to play, Baby" So Hee purred, her voice laced with malice.

Y/n's heart pounded with fear and dread as he watched the two women approach him. He knew that he was at their mercy, a helpless victim in their twisted game of love and obsession.

- To Be Continued -

[nightxcreature]

Christmas Traditions

Summary: Riding through Christmas lights with Dean and your daughter

Pairing: Girl Dad!Dean x Reader

Warnings: None 🫶🏼 Pure fluff!

A/N: I know it’s a liiiiiiitle early for Christmas, but this is loosely based on a night out with my husband and daughter a few nights ago. I hope you enjoy! I am currently working on part three of “Hot-Blooded” and the next part for my soldier boy fic so hopefully those will be out in the next week or so! 👀

******************************************************

The rumble of the Impala drowned out whatever Christmas song Dean had blasting from the radio, but it did nothing to silence the cheers from the little girl in his lap. Lights flashed passed us as we coasted by, versions of Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph dancing sporadically around us. Dean’s loud laugh pulled my attention from the bright colors and I watched as he pointed toward a flashing blue figure in the distance.

“Look, Baby! It’s Santa on a Harley!” He bellowed, grinning at the small girl below him, “You love Harley’s!”

The little girl smiled, waving as we passed the motorcycle, “Yeah! I do!” She yelled out, standing between Dean’s legs and grabbing the steering wheel, “Wanna ride a motorcycle wif me, Daddy?”

His smile dropped and he pretended to cover Baby’s ears as he whispered dramatically, “You can’t say stuff like that in here, Sweetheart. Baby’ll get jealous!”

The little girl frowned and placed a sweet kiss on the wheel before whispering, “So sorry, Baby. I wub you.”

Dean grinned wider and turned her to see out the window again, “I’m sure she forgives you, Sweetheart. Baby’d never hold a grudge against you.”

She smiled widely and cheered as we passed a few brightly lit green penguins sliding onto a blue and white rollercoaster, forgetting all about potentially hurting Baby’s feelings. Dean placed a sweet kiss to her head and slid his free hand over to pull me to his side. He grinned as he wrapped the other hand around the little brunette’s eyes, driving with his knees as he said, “Don’t look now, Bud, Santa and Mrs, Claus are kissing!”

“Ewwww!” She’d shrieked, placing a hand over his tightly, “That’s nassy!”

He’d sent me a Cheshire grin and released his hold on her head as he placed a hand to the back of my head to pull me into a sweet kiss…met immediately with a loud, “No! That’s my mommy!” from below us as she tried to wrench us apart. Dean’s laugh bubbled out of him as he placed his eyes back on the driveway and released me.

“She was mine first.” He argued, sticking his tongue out before distracting her with the newest lights around us. His green eyes matched our girls as they caught the bright lights and shone beautifully, full of wonder and delight. His freckled cheeks were red and his hair full of snow from the open window. I chuckled at the sight, a blush creeping up my neck at how good happiness looks on him. Even after all the years of stress and danger and literal death he’s seen, hell, that he’d experienced first hand, he’d finally found his reprieve. I felt a bit of pride at the fact that I could’ve helped in alleviating that pain and sorrow, in more ways than one, and a smile creeped up my face. Though he’d been born to suffer, Dean had persevered and made it out of the shitshow he’d been thrown in and into this beautiful life we’d built together.

“What’re you smiling at, Mama?” He whispered in my ear as we coasted toward the end of the light show.

“A happy man.” I mutter back, placing a kiss to his cheek, “And a wonderful life.”

He smiled sweetly and pulled me closer as we made our way through the arches of lights leading toward the parking lot, “It’s been one hell of a journey getting here,” he mumbled, glancing down to our beautiful girl, “but it was worth every second.”

I followed his line of sight and sighed, leaning against him and smiling softly. The flashes of red, green, and blue lit up our girls green eyes and brought a glow to her own freckled face. The fact that she even exists is a miracle in and of itself, and one I can’t and won’t take for granted. I peeked back up at him and whispered, “Yeah, it really was.”

*****************************************************

Taglist: @lmhf1 @whimsyfinny @k-slla @enigmalynne @envysarchive

@daisydark @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @manicjk @aylacavebear

@suckitands33 @oceean @mxtansy @justwhisperingfantasies @mgchaser

[flemingsfreckles]

Replacement Pt.12

Read the rest of the series here!

Warnings: just some pg13 making out, nothing else.

WC: 3.3k

A/N: hi, I finally got this chapter finished, it’s been a struggle, like I’ve said I’ve been incredibly busy, I’m hoping to get some short blurbs written for yall so I can get back to consistently posting.

You didn’t hear much from Jessie the next day. A few texts here and there, but nothing like you were used to. You acknowledged each other at training, uncomfortable glances in each other's direction, followed by quick, training related conversations.

You hated it. Feeling like you had messed up, that you were to blame. You had spent the night feeling angry, at Jessie and at yourself. Her words had hurt, the way she nearly dismissed what you had seen as valuable. You loved the safety you felt when it was just the two of you in her apartment. You loved how it felt to finally feel comfortable exploring this side of your life. You loved being able to touch her, hold her hand, kiss her and not feel scared. You loved being able to open talk, no teammates or strangers potentially listening in. You figured she had felt the same, until she had called it all fake.

At the same time you were mad at her, you were mad at yourself. You knew it wasn’t fair to force Jessie into dates at home. She deserved someone who wanted to show her off, someone who was proud to be her girlfriend and showed it. You hadn’t given that to her. The longer you sat in bed thinking, the more you felt torn. You didn’t want to lose her, but you weren’t ready for everyone to know, at least not yet.

“Can I pick you up tonight? 9pm? I’ll have you home by midnight I promise.” Those were the first words you spoke to Jessie this morning that weren’t related to soccer. You had waited around in the locker room after training until all your teammates had left and just the two of you sat side by side in your cubbies.

“Kinda late don’t you think?” She questions quietly.

“Please?” You didn’t want to have to beg her, but you needed to talk, you needed this chance with her.

“Okay, sure.”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up.” You say to her as she heads out of the locker room. A little hurt that she hadn’t waited to walk out with you, but you also couldn’t blame her too much. This morning had been tense and awkward, it was fair for her to run off.

“You’re not going to kill me up here are you?” Jessie tries to break the silence in the car. You just glance at her. “Sorry, obviously a joke.”

You and Jessie had been driving for about 25 minutes before you parked the car. You had traveled out of the city of Portland, into the woods, down a gravel road, to a small clearing you found last year. Away from the hussle and bussle of the city, it became a quiet place for you to think. It probably wasn’t at all what she was expecting, but you didn’t mind surprising her.

“9pm picnic?” Jessie says, puzzled look on her face as she followed you out of the car and watched you lay out the blanket you had brought.

“No, stargazing.” You point upward to the clear sky displaying tiny bright dots of light.

“Oh.” Jessie makes her way to the blanket, toeing off her shoes before sitting down. You follow, sitting beside her. Just like the car, the two of you start off in silence, waiting for the other to break it.

“Look, Jessie.” You start, waiting for her to turn to look at you, when her eyes meet yours you continue. “I know this isn’t completely public, but I’m trying. You asked to do something outside of our houses, this is what I’m comfortable with for now. I wanted to show you, I’m in this, I want this.”

“I know, I’m really sorry, for what I said, I should have never said those dates were fake, because they weren’t. Those evenings together meant something to me and they meant something to you. They weren’t fake and I’m so sorry I said they were. I’m in this too, I want this too. I just freaked out, thinking you’d keep me a secret forever, which now that I’ve reflected was stupid and I just panicked.”

“It was never my intention to keep you a secret forever. I just need a little bit more time. I’m still figuring this out.”

“Yeah, I know. You deserve to take the time you need, I’m sorry if I made you feel pressured in any way.” Her hand on your thigh gives you a gentle squeeze, sending tiny feelings of electricity up between your legs.

You respond with silence, not quite knowing where to take the conversation, but also just falling into a comfortable silence with the girl next to you. As you both lay, you lean your head over, resting it on her shoulder. The two of you lay in silence, admiring the display in the sky above you.

“This has been really nice.” Jessie says rolling over on her side to look at you. You keep your eyes trained on the sky, looking at the stars. “Thank you for showing me this.” She puts a kiss on your cheek before shifting to lay her head on your chest, one of her arms coming to wrap around your waist.

You feel your face rush with heat at the feeling of her kiss. You couldn’t believe something simple from her, like a peck on the cheek still gave you a tingling feeling in your stomach. “You know it’s been three months technically since our first date, and one month since we agreed to be girlfriends?”

“I did.” Jessie lets out a little sigh. “I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to make it a big deal or not, people are different, we hadn’t really done anything for month one or two, so I wasn’t sure if you maybe weren’t a monthly anniversary person or not.

“I wasn’t sure if you were, that’s why I haven’t been saying anything.”

“So we’ve just been not acknowledging it.” Jessie laughs softly as she speaks.

“Yeah I guess.” You shrug.

You feel Jessie shift on the blanket, she lifts her head momentarily.“I’ve had a really nice three months with you.”

“Me too babe.” You both share a smile before Jessie leans up toward you, her lips finding yours.

As you kiss you can almost feel a shift. One you can’t quite place but the way she kissed you, felt deeper, more passionate, her tongue running against yours felt dirtier, in a way that made you want more. Before you can get too carried away you find yourself pulling back. You wanted it, but not on a blanket, on a rock, in the middle of somewhat secluded woods.

“Um, so it’s almost eleven, I promised I’d have you home by midnight.”

“Right…” Jessie says. “I mean, we do have film and recovery tomorrow. Should probably get at least some sleep.” Both of you groan as you stand up, not wanting to leave the peaceful night you had created, but you knew you had to.

After the short drive home you found yourself parking your car outside of your own place, instead of Jessie’s. “Sorry, I’ll drop you off in a second, I forgot something for you, I meant to grab it earlier.”

“Of course, no problem.”

“Unless you wanted to come upstairs?” It was an innocent enough question you posed to Jessie, but both of you knew it likely had a less than innocent underlying meaning.

You had been more physical on your date tonight than most. Your hands had constantly been finding ways to touch Jessie. Your hand in hers, your hand on her thigh, hand on her back, your fingers running through her hair, and she was returning the favor, her hands running down your side as she had rested with her head on your chest.

“Yeah, if you want me to?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Plus, tomorrow is just film and recovery, if we’re a little sleepy, it’ll be alright.” You end the sentence with a slight smirk on your face. The two of you made quick work of getting out of your car and she followed you up to your building.

You initiated it. The second the two of you made it through the door, your lips found Jessie’s, kissing her hard, not wasting any time before you let your tongue slide against her lips. Hands on her hips you urge her to move backward in the direction of your bedroom.

You poured years of self hatred and denial into the kiss, you were finally getting what you had always wanted deep down. The feelings you had suppressed for years poured out as the two of you made your way into the bedroom.

You reach the bed, finally breaking your kiss and you climb onto it as Jessie stands at the side, watching you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Not having to think twice you reassure her with an enthusiastic nod, it felt right, tonight was the night. You had no idea what you were doing, but excitement filled your stomach.

“Okay, just tell me if you change your mind.” Jessie says as she climbs onto the bed next to you, situating herself between your thighs.

Leaning down, she covers your body with her own, her lips making their way back to yours and the two of you spend time kissing. You slowly become used to the feeling of her body on yours, it's new, but you liked it, your hands hold her sides as her own hold her above you. Every slight shift of her weight you can feel, the longer you kiss her the more restless you become. You can feel the way her hips softly rock against yours. For a moment you’re in heaven.

You can feel your head start to spin as she kisses the side of your neck. The feeling you're experiencing is one you’re unable to put into words, a mix of uncertainty and excitement fill your system. Feeling bold in your movements you let your hands pick at the edges of Jessie’s shirt, your fingers just barely touching her bare skin underneath. She sits back, breaking away her lips from your skin and you watch as she puts her arms up.

“Go ahead.” She nods with a smile down to you and you slowly pull the shirt up and over her head. You let your eyes trail down her body, pausing a little too long at her chest, still covered in a sports bra. It was a view you had seen hundreds of times in the locker room but this was different. This wasn’t seeing her change into her kit for a game, this wasn’t her changing after practice. She was undressing for you. That made it different.

You’re enjoying the attention she’s giving to your neck and lips, until her hands find their way to the hem of your shirt and you feel her begin to gently pull on it. She doesn’t quite make a move to take it off of you yet, but you know that’s what she’s teasing at, her fingers creeping further under your shirt. That’s when your stomach feels like a sinking rock, it finally sets in what the two of you were doing. She was going to be naked, you were going to be naked. She’d be seeing every inch of you. You hadn’t done anything like this before, before Jessie you’d hardly made out with anyone.

As her fingertips graze the band of your bra the feeling in your stomach grows and for a moment you’re worried you’ll be sick. “Hang on Jess.” You’re able to whisper out and you almost regret it as you feel her lips pull away from your sensitive skin.

“Are you okay?” Jessie pulls back looking at your face, her fingers still touching under your shirt.

“Uh.” You try to find your voice, the words to tell her. Feeling frozen you just look at her. When she moves her fingers slightly you jump under her touch. Jessie now looks concerned as she looks down at you. You feel like you could cry in the moment, the lump in your throat starting to feel impossible to swallow.

“We can stop.” Jessie offers sweetly.

“No Jess, it's fine.” You quickly find the words trying to convince her and yourself that you’re okay. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you mean that.” Jessie stays still, her hands still resting on either side of your abdomen, you hope she can’t feel how uneven your breathing is, or just how hard your heart is beating. “I can tell you’re nervous, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You shouldn’t be embarrassed, but you were. Tucking your head down to avoid her eyes, you can feel them burning into the crown of your head. The heat rising on your cheeks makes this feel even more embarrassing. “I’ve just, I’ve never, and I don’t, I mean, I’m just not sure.” You manage to mumble out.

Jessie doesn’t say anything initially, but you feel her fingers slide out from under your shirt, resting on your thighs that were still wrapped around her waist. “Hey, it’s okay.” She begins rubbing slow strokes up and down your shorts, comforting you. Her right hand leaves your thigh and finds your own hand, gently interlacing your fingers.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks slightly and you can feel the tears welling up, blinking hard a couple escape and roll down your cheek. “I thought I was ready.”

“It’s okay, look at me.” Jessie politely requests. You turn your head, giving her a quick glance before shying away again. “Please,” it’s a gentle ask and you do as she says, making eye contact with her for just a moment before your eyes fall to your lap again, “I don't care, I mean, I do obviously, I care about you. I just mean, if you’re ever not ready, not comfortable, we’re not going to do anything.”

“I want to, I promise, I want to have sex with you, just, I don’t know, it’s still all new.” You couldn’t quite put into words the feelings you were having, uneasy, anxious, and yet excited, all flooding your system making you feel unwell.

“That’s okay.” Jessie swings her legs over yours, sitting down on the bed next to you, she reaches for her own previously discarded shirt pulling it over her head quickly before returning her focus to you. “You don't need a reason, and it's also okay to just not be ready.”

You just nod. You stay staring ahead, where Jessie used to sit, now your eyes fell across the room on the empty wall. An unsettling feeling still in your stomach, you just wanted it to go away. Your brain felt like it was ready to explode and yet it was silent at the same time, having no idea how to process the emotions you went through.

You’re not sure how long it’s been when Jessie speaks again. “Do you want me to go? I can leave if you need some space, Or I can stay, it’s your choice, whatever will make you comfortable.”

You hardly had to think before you knew the answer “Stay?”

“Of course.” Jessie says, you can almost feel her relax into the bed slightly. She moves around, covering herself with the throw blanket that rested on your bed.

“You’re not mad?” Finally having the courage to speak, you ask, slightly terrified of what the answer might be.

“Why would I be mad?” She turns looking at you with a hint of sadness in her expression.

“I don’t know. I mean I started it, I made it seem like we were going to, ya know.” Your hands play with the blanket.

“I’ll never be mad at you for saying no, no one should ever get mad at you for that.” Her hand finds yours, encouraging you to stop fidgeting with the blanket. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Okay.” You turn, swinging your legs off the bed. “I’m going to get ready for bed, I have an extra toothbrush if you still want to spend the night.”

“Yeah, only if you’re sure?”

“I am, feel free to grab clothes from my dresser, if you wanted something besides what you’ve got on.” You point over where your dresser was against the wall. Jessie nods then moves toward the dresser opening a few drawers before finding your t-shirts. She looks through a few and then holds one up. M

“Cool if I take this one?” She holds it up to you. You nod before heading into the bathroom. While you’re rummaging through your closet to find the packaged toothbrush for Jessie she joins you, your shirt now across her chest and one of your favorite pairs of sweats on her legs. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at the sight of her in your clothes.

“Here ya go.” You hand her the toothbrush and she walks to your sink. “I’m going to go change, I’ll be right back.” Quickly throwing on sweatpants and a shirt of your own you return to the bathroom, washing your face and brushing your teeth before heading back toward your bed.

Jessie is standing at the foot of it, looking at you. “Do you have a side preference?” You shake your head before moving to the closest side of the bed, lifting the covers and beginning to climb in, you reach over setting an alarm for the morning. Jessie gets the idea and moves to the other side, putting her phone on the bedside table and climbing in as well.

You’d never slept next to anyone in a romantic way. Sure you’d shared beds with teammates before but never a teammate that you also kissed, and hugged, and lov-, really liked. You feel your face heating up at the near confession that just happened in your brain.

Despite the darkness of your room, Jessie somehow could see right through you. “Just lay how you normally would, pretend I’m not here.” Following her instructions you roll off your back and onto your side, facing away from Jessie. “There ya go.” Staring at the rest of your bedroom you can’t see, but feel the bed shift as Jessie moves around. “Is it okay if I lay behind you?”

“Yeah go ahead.” As you give her permission, Jessie moves and you suddenly feel her legs against yours before her chest is against your back.

“Can I put my arm around you?” Instead of verbally answering, you reach an arm of your own back, finding Jessie’s wrist and pulling her forward so her arm draped across your middle. “You comfortable?” She checked in with you.

“Yeah, I’m good.” That was mostly the truth, you were more comfortable than before, and Jessie’s body against yours was a welcomed warmth, but that didn’t mean it calmed your mind fully. Your mind was still thinking about how it had felt to have Jessie on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist as she ever so slightly had rolled her hips, how it felt for her hands to be under your shirt, how her lips felt on your neck, and while you had loved all those things, you couldn’t stop thinking about how embarrassed you felt.

Here you were, an adult, still terrified of physical intimacy. You wanted it, you just couldn’t. It made it all too real. “I’m sorry.” It’s a weak apology from you that has Jessie immediately shushing in your ear.

She places a kiss to your shoulder and tightens her grip on your waist. “Go to sleep babe, nothing to be sorry for.”

[penelopegarciaismygf]

Hey guys, so in case any fanfic writers are desperate to write a fic for me, here's an overly specific criteria: (I'm not sending an ask because i get scared of sounding demanding and also this is silly please don't take me too seriously)

○BAU!reader x spencer is superior. I said it. I really believe that the only way for there to be a functional relationship is for them to be working together because otherwise, they'd literally never see each other. Also, this is the best because of all the fun options there are- forbidden romance, reader gets kidnapped/injured, + writers can have fun writing cases... you get my point. It's the best.

○if the reader annoys me then I won't read the fic. I get that the purpose of having an unnamed character is so the reader can relate but that really doesn't mean they have to be an emotionless void. Give me some flavour please!

○Spencer not being anything like he is in the show annoys me to know end. No, I'm not going to read a high school fic where spencer is popular, and he bullies the reader for being a nerd. Have we watched the same show?? (Unfortunately, that is a real fic 😔) but I'm also not going to read a fic where he cheats either because that's ridiculous.

○I want to see the team! Sure, I love spencer reid, but I'm also a Criminal Minds fan, and I miss seeing fics that involve everyone. Especially if the reader is in the bau because i love the different dynamics

(Okay now we're going to get me specific)

○I love the daddy issues reader trope. Because yes I do believe that reading a fanfic of spencer reid saying everything I need to hear would fix me. Also if it's a bau reader fic I want to see a rossi father figure situation. I wholeheartedly believe that if I was in the bau I would force that man to adopt me and I want to see that in a fic

○I need more fics where spencer is obsessed, like just so down bad for the reader it's crazy. I know it exists and I need more because i know for a fact that he doesn't catch feelings often so when he does it's crazy

○spencer would lowkey be manipulative. I don't think it would be intentional but in a relationship he would make sure he KNEW his partner and we anyway know that he has issues with people leaving so if the reader tried he'd be reading those microexpressions (whatever that means) and hed know exactly what to say to make them stay. I don't think he'd do it intentionally, but that fear of abandonment runs deep. That+those puppy eyes would make him impossible to leave, and I really want a fic that captures that. Like more than anything.

[transandrogyne]

i understand the confusion that arises here if you think of transmisogyny as the intersection between transphobia and misogyny -- and i'm not saying that to be an asshole, i'm saying that because i had the same confusion for a while. but using the intersection framing isn't very helpful here since transphobia is ultimately the consequence of patriarchy & misogyny which, as you point out, impacts all trans people.

so, the better way of looking at it is to understand it as a form of misogyny that specifically impacts trans women. i realize this is a subtle difference, but it is still a difference that matters nonetheless. it makes more sense, too, when you consider the mechanisms at play with patriarchy. for example, if cis women are subjugated on the basis of their ability to physically reproduce and are made to provide free reproductive labor, then what happens to the trans woman who cannot fulfill that same role? and the answer, both historically and nowadays, is the relegation of trans women to a sort of social third class. economically, we see throughout history that they are frequently unemployed or involved with sex work, which is a reality that cis women also frequently experienced if they were unable to achieve getting married, having kids, maintaining their reputation and if their husband was unable to prevent the family from falling into poverty.

this is just one example of many, but the point here is that trans women experience very similar outcomes to cis women because of patriarchy, but their outcomes more frequently resemble the worst-case social/economic scenario of cis women because they are trans. there was never an opportunity to have a better life.

trans men, on the other hand, generally have a different experience when they are understood socially to be men. stories of figures you could consider to be trans masculine are often described a women dressing as men to achieve a better life for themselves -- that reality reflects what i'm trying to communicate. that's not to say that trans men never had it bad or that they never experienced misogyny, but what it does communicate as that being perceived by society as a man has historically yielded different opportunities and outcomes than being perceived as a woman. for instance, when i read stories of historical trans men, they're usually able to sort of live under cover and work very blue collar jobs because those jobs were available to men. and if they ever had to resort to sex work, they would have to do it as women -- most johns are straight men, after all.

thus, and i'm sure you've heard this before, "transandrophobia" as a term modeled after transmisogyny doesn't make much sense because it would imply "androphobia that is specific to trans men." now, maybe you want to say, "well, i'm using the term not to talk about the intersection of 'androphobia' and transness, but rather transphobia that is unique to trans men OR the intersection of misogyny and trans masculinity." and that's all fine and good, but we've run into two very large rhetorical problems since this discussion started.

many examples of experiences unique to trans men are not really unique to trans men and there aren't very good arguments explaining why they should be viewed as uniquely anti-transmasc

many arguments i've seen at least rely heavily on a very gender essentialist outlook. i believe there are a lot of well-intentioned people who just don't have the greatest grasp on the mechanisms of patriarchy yet, but unfortunately this tendency has resulted in a not insignificant amount of arguing about trans women being male and therefore incapable of understanding misogyny and ironically misgenders trans men and denies many of our realities

i do believe it's worth talking about the experiences of trans mascs specifically because it helps us develop a better understanding of how we fit into the broader scheme of things and develop ways to fight for a better future. unfortunately, though, a lot of discussion about feminism & misogyny in general (not just w/ this conversation, i mean as a whole) doesn't really have a solid, materialist understanding of patriarchy and leads to questionable conclusions. in the case of transandrophobia, i'm concerned that the culture that has developed has only reified ppl's distrust of trans women (not instilled it, mind you -- once again, we have to return to transmisogyny here as a structural reality) and therefore severely stunted our ability as trans men/mascs to talk about ourselves in a meaningful way.

If transmisogyny is actually the intersection of transphobia and misogyny, that would be something all trans people experience, not just transfemme individuals.

If it's just a word for transphobia faced by transfemmes, then it makes sense for transmascs to have an equivalent word.

If you say transmascs can't use the word transmisogyny to describe their experiences, and essentially just use it to mean transphobia against transfemmes, then it doesn't make any sense to get upset about the word transandrophobia