#i bet i have lost threads again

[shoot-of-corruption]

((*cracks knuckles and neck - puts on Noir Soundtrack* Let’s go.))

[cavillscurls]

SWEET RELEASE

gif by @daydreamingmiller

summary: the aftermath of finishing without joel’s permission.

warnings/tags: MDNI. written in third person, but female character is not an OC. dom!joel/sub!partner. daddy kink. some dd/lg undertones. some mean!joel. oral (f receiving). orgasm control. overstimulation in the form of punishment (previously consented to). fingering. squirting. begging. dirty talk, like real filthy okay. dacryphilia. pet names. unprotected p in v. cream pie. female character asks joel to stop, but it’s canon in my brain that they have a safe word in place ok?? she’s not really asking him to stop. female character has no physical descriptions. only kinda proofread!

word count: 1k

a/n: shoutout to @ozarkthedog for reminding me not all my fics have to be long and strenuous. your drabbles have been killing me lately, & inspired me to tackle one of my own ideas as such <3

“Oh, baby. I bet that felt real good, didn’t it?”

Forty-five minutes of denial, and she was sweating. Her entire body on fire with no distinguishing in sight, forced to endure the torture of the flames until he deemed her worthy of release.

But it had been too long. Days since she had him like this. The restraint she had worked tirelessly to build—that he had trained her to withstand—crumbled in a matter of moments once his tongue was buried between her thighs.

“Daddy,” she cried, her fingers still threaded through his damp curls. She hoped that maybe her touch would soothe away her blunder. “I’m-I’m sorry, I tried—”

“Shhh,” Joel hushed. His lips lingered dangerously close to her cunt that he watched in awe. Glistening, clit still twitching from the orgasm she hadn’t asked for. “I know, babygirl. I know. Poor little pussy. She’s been waitin’ all day for me, couldn’t wait another second, huh?”

Her watery eyes peered down at him, and fuck, if she wasn’t pretty like this. Strands of hair sticking to her forehead, swollen lips from where his teeth nipped and sucked in feverish kisses. And the look in her eyes. Desire, yes. But fear. Only a twinge of it. Just enough for him to enjoy, to toy with, until she was molded back into the perfect little girl he knew she was.

Joel flashed her a devilish smirk just before his lips pressed a delicate kiss to the crease of her thigh. The kind of look that made her gut twist in a thrilling anxiety, awaiting the beast to be set free.

He was hardly ever tamed.

“But you know Daddy’s rules,” he lectured, fingers digging punishingly into the plush of her thighs, bound to leave bruises. Reminders of his claim on her body, her mind. “You know better.”

Another wail tore through her throat when Joel ripped her hands off of his scalp, instructing her to grab onto the rails of the headboard, and keep them there. Despite her obedience, she still muttered, I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m so sorry. Over and over again, but her blubbering apologies were lost to his hunger, and quickly silenced once his hands were back on her.

Without warning, he hooked two fingers inside of her, slipping in seamlessly through the slickness of her previous release. She gasped, back arching off the mattress, hands clenching dutifully around the rails as to not fail another one of his instructions. The wood dug into her skin, but it was nothing compared to the torment Joel desired to inflict.

“I forgive you, sweetheart,” he purred, admiring the way her eyes fluttered back into her head as he slowly began to pump his fingers inside of her. The velvet walls were already clenching around his digits, and he knew with the right tactics, she’d fall without the chance of redemption.

“But if you’re gonna disobey Daddy’s rules, he’s gotta find a way to get them into that pretty head of yours, don’t you think?”

Her response came in the form of a distraught whine as he placed a heavy hand between her mound and belly button, a bit of pressure. And then, his fingers curled up inside of her, reaching for the soft little spot that made her sing. A sweet, pathetic melody, reserved only for his greedy ears.

He began to flick his wrist in a steady rhythm, her entire body gone rigid, gulping desperately for air as the pressure built in her lower belly. She felt her legs begin to shake, her neglected clit gone swollen and desperate all over again. Something churned inside of her, bounding for the floodgates, and she felt the panic settle in her bones.

“Daddy—!” she screeched when Joel pressed harder on her stomach, his bullish grunts ringing above her as he expertly flexed his forearm. “No, no, no. Stop, Daddy, p-please. I’m gonna—“

“If you wanna come so bad, babygirl, then Daddy’s gonna make you come.”

And it was a promise. A vow that, if she played with fire, she would get burned.

She knew it was coming before it even happened. A growing simmer on the precipice of eruption, unavoidable, especially with how tirelessly Joel worked her towards it. A string of pleads and urgent warnings that she couldn’t hold it spilled frantically from her lips while Joel knocked his fingers once, twice, three more times against that special spot and pushed firm on her lower belly.

She was screaming, a desperate sort of sound, hands still cramped around the rails as she gushed around Joel’s fingers and soaked his bare chest in pearly liquid. Too much and not enough all at once. Tears leaked down her cheeks when he refused to let up, punctuating each squirt between her legs with his thick, unforgiving fingers. He didn’t pull them out until he was certain he’d drained her.

And yet, he still wasn’t satisfied.

She began to truly sob when he shuffled himself out of his boxers. The only bit of clothing left separating her from the thing that—despite her mind numbing sequence of releases—she still craved desperately.

“I can’t, I can’t—ah!” she was silenced, jaw dropped open, by the sheathing of his cock inside of her; one swift, relentless thrust that reached the deepest parts of her in a way no other man ever had, ever would.

“Shut up,” he growled, yanking her hands off of the rails and throwing them over his shoulders. “You can, and you will. Now hold on t’me,” he commanded just before he set his ruthless pace.

Until she was gushing around him again, and again, crying nonsensical things with eyes half lidded, the blunt edges of her nails leaving crests across his shoulders, and her thighs trembled uncontrollably. Until he was burying his face in her damp neck, breathing in their shared musk, and releasing a roaring groan. Until he was filling her with his cum, branding her as his—his girl, his world.

As she always had been, and always would be. Placed on a pedestal so far beyond that of anything else in his life.

And after that day, he knew she would never forget the rules that put her there.

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[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[undiscovered-horizon]

[Old love never rusts. Shanks has to face that truth when he meets again the husband of the girl he almost had.]

Shanks's version | Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi | Have a request?

Shanks knows he has no right to ask this question. Not when he's the one that up and left in the middle of the night, without even a word of warning that could soothe your aching heart. Nevertheless, he can't help but indulge his yearning:

"How is she?"

Mihawk raises his eyebrows barely noticeably. He seems surprised that after Shanks's disappearing act and a decade of dead silence, he's still interested in you, even if motivated by pure courtesy. But before Mihawk answers the question, he notices something strange in the red-haired captain's eyes, a sensation he's rarely seen in them before - sadness.

Interesting, how some things never quite change.

"Well," Mihawk answers laconically. Instead of indulging Shanks's lovesick longing, he wishes the man would finally accept his utter failure and move on. You're married to Dracule and this isn't going to change anytime soon. If ever.

"Wells tend to be cold and musty," Shanks jokes but his tone is far from lighthearted. In fact, his voice sounds strained like he's holding back tears. "I hope she fared better with you."

The Red-Hair pirates laugh at their captain's joke but quickly turn quiet again. Something about the tense confrontation makes their good humour virtually nonexistent. Especially when Mihawk gives them a curt, cold glare. He doesn't find his past rivalry with Shank to be funny in any way.

"She has everything she could ask for," he says with a sense of finality to his words. Mihawk feels himself growing irritated.

"Good, good..." Shanks nods, lost in thought for a moment. He clenches his hand, giving away the unpleasant tension inside his chest. The captain has promised himself to let go of you. Alas, here we are. "Is she happy?" he suddenly asks.

Mihawk furrows his thick eyebrows in an angry frown. It's almost insulting for Shanks to have any doubts regarding your well-being under the Warlord's care. "What sort of question is this?"

"A 'yes or no' sort."

"Then yes," he drones his words.

Shanks forces a wide, playful smile. There's agony hiding in his eyes and as though Mihawk is a blind man, he's trying to play it cool and appear unaffected. The truth is, the red-haired man is holding on by a thread.

"I bet she talks about me all the time," Shanks says in faux amusement. His voice almost doesn't shake. "We both know I've always been her favourite."

"And you'd lose." Mihawk begins to feel an insidious satisfaction from the distress of the other man. "In fact, I doubt she thinks about you at all."

"You keep telling yourself that, hawk-eyes."

"This misguided flattery is much unwarranted," Mihawk warns him. "No one bets on losing dogs."

But she would, Shanks thinks to himself. She always did.

Short fingernails leave bruising marks on the inside of Shanks's palm as he's clenching his fist. Once again he's reminded that when it mattered, he was a coward and fled from the overwhelming, crippling love he feels for you. Only know there's no hope, there's no ifs - you belong to another man.

Afternoon sunlight reflects off of Mihawk's gold ring. Shanks glares at it for a moment too long to pass off his intense stare as circumstantial. He can almost hear the mocking laughter of the universe as the consequence of the amalgamation of his bad choices is merely two meters away from him. There is nothing he wouldn't give up to turn back the time and make sure that things go differently, that he never became afraid of being too deep in love.

But time, like the seas, has no master.

_____

I was so torn about this one, I couldn't decide until the very end, so if you want to read a version where the scenario is flipped and Shanks is the 'lucky guy', just hit me up.

[etoileee]

WE’RE NOT REALLY STRANGERS. ₁

⤷ a percy jackson dr shifting experience!

We were currently sitting on the floor in the poseidon cabin. this is my first time in here.

Piper and Hazel were sitting on the bed behind me, Piper’s hands running through my hair.

When I first got there she told me that my hair was nice and asked if she could play with it, and of course, I said yes because I’m a sucker for people playing with my hair.

and for her.

She asked me what I did for my hair care, and I almost felt bad saying ‘nothing’. the only thing I did was not use heat on my hair, but it wasn’t because I cared about my hair so much, but because I didn't know how to use those tools.

It's unfortunate, I know. I’m a sixteen-year-old girl who did not know how to curl or straighten her hair.

as she ran her fingers through my hair, I found it hard to keep my eyes open, her slender fingers were gently scratching and threading through my hair sending shivers down my spine, making me feel relaxed.

I forced my eyes open and looked around the cabin, It was oddly cooler in here than it was outside, but I say oddly because I didn't see any AC to keep it cool in here. On one of the beds, there was a whale shark plush.

That’s Percy's bed.

Everyone else was talking amongst themselves, probably trying to figure out what to do, but I wasn’t paying attention. I just closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of Piper’s fingering raking through my hair.

The sound of the front door opening makes me open my eyes again out of curiosity about who it may be. It was Nico and a tan blonde boy walking in, their eyes scanning every one of us.

I’m gonna bet to you right now, blondie is a child of Apollo.

“Hey guys,” Jason says with a polite smile, pushing his glasses up his nose. Percy seemed a bit amused like he didn’t expect them to show up.

I hadn’t seen Nico since our talk last night when I weirdly told him about my life before camp half-blood, and the regret was starting to settle in as I felt the embarrassment of telling him about that stir in my stomach.

Why'd I overshare so much?

I mentally facepalm myself.

I know he’s the one that asked, but I still felt awkward about it.

Nico’s eyes fall on me and I avert my gaze somewhere else, trying to not look too awkward and like I was just looking at him without thought, not like I was embarrassed to be seeing him again after last night.

“What are we gonna do?” blondie says sitting down with a smile, his face turns into a puzzled one when he sees me. “I’ve never seen you around before…” he tilts his head as if racking his brain trying to think if we’ve ever interacted before this.

“I got here yesterday,” I say quietly with a subtle nod.

He perks up at that and smiles at me “Ah! That’s why then,” he extends his arm out to me, giving me a handshake “I’m Will Solace,”

His hands are soft and warm.

“Cītlalli Ohara” I let go of his hand and brought it to rest in my lap. I managed a small nod in acknowledgment to Nico next to him, he gave me a nod back.

I want to rip my scalp off.

“PERCY IT’S A MESS UNDER HERE!”

Annabeth's head was currently lost in the darkness under Percy Jackson’s bed in search of some sort of game we could play to pass the time together. “No, it's an organized mess!” Percy yelled from the bathroom running his hand through his dark hair before coming out of the bathroom and getting on the floor to help Annabeth look for the card game.

I laid back on the bed behind me, observing everyone. Piper behind had started braiding my hair.

I know it’s a weird thing to do, but I’ve always been a people watcher. It’s almost like watching a movie for me. I liked learning from people just by looking at them.

I sound like a weirdo.

It is normally not this quiet—

“HEY HEY HEYYY” there he is.

Leo.

The curly-haired boy strutted into the cabin with a grin on his face and surprisingly didn't have on his repair boy suspenders.

I miss the suspenders.

bring back the suspenders, repair boy!

“Hey, star shine,” He says, giving me a fist bump and flashing me a charming smile, my fist making contact with the ring on his.

That kinda hurt.

The area had become more lively now that the tan boy was here, weirdly. Being around him is like having a shot of espresso.

“I FOUND IT!” Percy yells standing back up from under his bed, in his hands is a small red box with white wording, reading;

‘WE’RE NOT STRANGERS.’

we all gather around on the floor, the box being put in the center between all of us. Percy opened the box revealing well-organized cards. “I’ve been wanting to play this for a while” Percy murmurs, Jason taking out the game pamphlet from the box and reading through the game's rules and directions.

“Listen, learn, reflect. you’ll go through three levels of questions, each level becoming deeper. be honest with your answers. you won't be strangers by the end of it.” Jason reads and puts the pamphlet on the bed, careful to not let it be folded or damaged in any way.

He took out the first card from the first level and read it aloud.

“Level 1 Perception: Do you know how others see you? Level 1 is about gaining perspective on what first impressions we give off and challenging the assumptions we make about others.”

Jason sets the card down next to the box “Who wants to go first?” he asks, pushing his round frames up his nose. The lack of response from everyone made him chuckle. “I’ll go first then,” he turns his head to the right to look at Frank.

“You’re like a gentle giant,” he begins, making us laugh softly. “you’ry kind and look out for everyone around you. and we appreciate it a lot, Frank” his tone was genuine.

Frank smiled shyly “Thank you,” Jason nodded his head and Frank turned to his left to answer the question about Hazel “You have a big heart... you care about everyone.” He says looking into her eyes as hazel looks away to hide how flustered she is. which made me smile a little bit.

“Even when you shouldn’t care” he adds, rolling his eyes jokingly, making Hazel slap his shoulder lightly.

Hazel turns to her left seeing that she’s to answer the question about Nico.

She smiled and began to speak “I think people would perceive you as cold or mean, but I don’t see you that way,” the tension in Nico’s shoulders seemed to relax a bit as she spoke like he wasn’t used to people speaking of him this way.

“you’re extremely observant, you read people very well, you’re a good listener,” she rambled on about the boy, making me smile again. I had only met Nico yesterday, but I found myself agreeing with everything she said.

“Okay okay—that's enough” Nico cuts her off, letting out a little huff. Shaking his head.

He didn't mean it rudely, he just seemed flustered, and or annoyed. like he didn’t like talking about himself.

Nico turned his attention to Will sitting on his left, he wore his usual stoic expression, but his eyes told me something else. “You’re nice,” he shrugs acting indifferent and looking down at the floor, his right hand twisting the rings on his left. “you’re really nice” He speaks again but this time quieter.

My face softened a bit watching the scene. It was sweet, even if Nico looked like he’d rather jump off a cliff right now.

Will smiled at him softly and gave him a little nod, he knew that was all Nico would say about him.

Will turned to Piper to answer the question about her “You aren’t shy about your opinions and feelings on this, and I admire that a lot about you,” his smile got bigger as he spoke, “You’re passionate about the things you care about, I like that about you.”

Piper seemed shocked for a second before laughing softly “Thanks Will” she said pushing her brown choppy hair out of her face.

I didn't miss the way Jason smiled either.

Piper’s eyes met mine, and I don’t know why, but I felt dread.

I met all of them yesterday, what could she— any of them have to say about me?

“You’re hard to read,” her eyes studied mine like we were looking for something in them. We all stayed quiet waiting for her to continue. “I don’t know much—anything about you, really,” she shook her head.

“But I like you.” she finishes.

I stared at her for a little bit, literally having no idea what to say.

“I like you too,” I say just above a whisper, I don’t even know if anyone other than her would’ve heard it.

I turned to Leo next to me to answer the question about him, not giving myself enough time to watch Piper’s reaction to what I said. I didn't wanna know.

I stared at him for a few seconds and a grin slowly appeared on his face as I did. “I think you’re really fun,” he’s full-blown smiling now “I’m fun? That's all I get?” he tilts his head teasingly at me.

I roll my eyes playfully, shaking my head “You’re really fun. there? happy?” I tease back trying to not smile. He sighs dramatically, running his hand through his black curls “I guess…”

He turns to his left, Reyna sitting next to him “You,” he points a finger at her “You scare me hella,” I bite my cheek to keep me from laughing, I hear Piper next to me let out a low laugh.

“But you’re a damn good warrior, and I respect you a lot.” he finishes.

Reyna’s face softened as she processed what Leo said about her, she didn't say anything, she just wore a thoughtful expression. Leo smiled and held his fist up to her. She smiled and collided her fist with his in a lighthearted fist bump.

Reyna turns to Annabeth next to her and says “I have a lot of respect for you too” She has an accent, but I genuinely cannot tell where it's from. “It’s been an honour to fight along side of you.” her voice firm. she means it.

Annabeth looked touched by what she said, but her face hardened a bit again, “Thank you,” she said back to her, i’ts obvious they both had mutual respect for each other.

Annebth turned to Percy, and it seemed like she had been dreading her turn this whole game. Percy smiled mischievously, he had been waiting for this to happen. He points to his ear, mocking and anticipating whatever she’s about to say.

“I don’t like anything about you.”

Nico lets out a sort, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah yeah laugh it up,” Percy says rolling his eyes and making a few of us snicker in his response.

Percy turns to Jason, the last person left. “You take care of all of us.. and you’re responsible. We’d probably be lost without you” He says lightheartedly.

We move on to the more lighthearted part of the game,

I read my card aloud “Give this card to the best listener.”

You mean the boy I’d been avoiding making eye contact with for the last 15 minutes?

I stare at the card for a few moments before looking up a Nico, his face unreadable as usual. I extend my arm out, holding the card between my middle and pointer fingers. He takes it from me, glancing down at the card before up at me again.

He didn't say anything, he just looked at me for a little bit before moving on.

“Give this card to the biggest flirt” Nico reads, his tone indifferent. without a second thought, he gives the card to Leo.

Leo smiles and takes the card from him. somewhat prideful “Y’know it,” he says taking a card from the unread pile and reading it.

“Gives this card to the person that stirs the pot,”

We all know who that is.

“Jackson,” Annabeth laughs, clapping her hands together. Percy grins and puts his hands together, bowing his head down. “That’s for you, love,” Leo says in a posh accent putting the card in Percy’s hands like it’s something precious.

“D1 instigator” Piper jokes, making us laugh.

“Give this card to someone you want to get to know better.” Percy reads before looking up at me, handing me the card with an awkward smile, the kind with both your lips pressed together in a line.

It made his dimples visible.

I take the card from him laying it on the floor next to me, I reach out to get a new card and read “Give this card to the most intimidating.”

I stare at the card for a few seconds, trying to figure out who to give it to.

Annabeth,

Reyna,

Nico,

That’s who’s going through my mind right now.

after a few moments of thinking about my answer, I look up at Annabeth and Reyna, still trying to decide on who to give it to. “You guys can share that,” I say, putting the card in front of both of them.

There was a ghost of a smile on Annabeth’s lips, Reyna’s face stayed emotionless.

I think I might be growing on them.

[pearl-blue-musings]

I had some thoughts…(spoilers for 2.3 update)

The Charmony Festival comes to a close, and the craziness of Penacony has begun to calm down. You watch as Aventurine interacts with Boothill via video call as you stand a few feet away from him. Clockie Studios Theme Park is relatively abandoned as most guests are in the central part of Golden Hour for the festival. The two of you needed somewhere private for him to interact without the potential of being overheard. After all, he did cause a big rift in the screen at the park and tried to get himself killed in a very flashy and public way.

You hear him chuckle as the broadcast ends. His boots click on the ground near you, alerting you of his closeness. He wraps a confident arm around your shoulder, briefly getting distracted by his phone buzzing. His eyebrows furrow as the messages flood in from a group chat. “Hmmm,” he ponders aloud. Aventurine’s touch isn’t romantic by any means, something you’ve come adjusted to since you realized your harbored feelings. His poker face and heartbeat give nothing away and you fear you may never know his true feelings. Of course the two of you have bonded over the course of his career and this trip, but he is still too much of a mystery to you.

You sigh deeply before indulging him. “Are you gonna tell me why your phone is blowing up?” You feel him chuckle next to you as he shows you the thread. Something about a bomb or multiple bombs on the Feldspar? His tone suggests there’s something eating at him but it’ll be pulling teeth for you to get the answer.

“Something about a bomb and Miss Sparkle. Although she is a Masked Fool, she’s been somewhat helpful in this trip I must admit.” You roll your eyes and remove his arm from your body. You miss the way he pouts slightly as he tries to catch up to you. The rift zig zags with specks of red and black flying all around. An uncomfortable feeling settles in your stomach as you crane your neck upwards. Your hands hold your arms and squeeze tightly. This man, your higher up, the one who holds your heart, tried getting himself killed in a dream all for the IPC’s gain. Was life not sacred? He was willing to do the unthinkable, and sure he lived, but he was willing to potentially die and that just-

“Something on your mind?” His purple and blue eyes travel to where your eyes are looking and he sighs. He can tell you’ve got some bad thoughts in mind and wants to calm whatever thoughts you have. Hi huffs and rests his elbow on your shoulder. “You shouldn’t concern yourself too much with the past. I’m here now aren’t I?”

You merely shake your head and try to escape his lingering touch. Your eyes gaze to the ground before shutting them lightly. “Look, I get that I hid some of my intentions with this mission. And maybe,” he extends, “I shouldn’t have flirted too much with the trailblazer to get what I want but everything worked how I wanted.” He tries again to touch you but you shrug him off.

You sigh and stop in your place. “It’s not that, although the flirting…w-whatever.” Your hand finds purchase on the back of your neck as you finally turn to him. “Why do you gamble your life away like that?”

Aventurine’s smile softens, finally happy that you’re facing him again. “I guess I’m just lucky. You know that. I’ve never lost.” He steps toward you and tries to hold your free hand. “You know that better than anyone,” he whispers.

“And that’s exactly why I care so much! Someone needs to care about your life even if you don’t! What about,” you heave as your voice gets louder. “What about the people that care about you, Aventurine? The ones that don’t want you to bet your life? The ones that want you to live!”

Aventurine is taken aback at your emotional display. He knows he can’t hide too much of himself from you. He lets his eyebrows furrow slightly with the frown settling on his face. The last time someone scolded him about this was his sister and then she…

You continue in your tirade. “I know you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to worry. But I also know how incredibly lucky you are! But, aeons Kakavasha, why do you let everyone use you to the point where you’re going to die?”

Kakavasha.

His real name slipped so effortlessly from your lips. And never had he heard the name sound so beautiful and cared for ever in his life. The fear and anxiety in your gaze starts to pierce the layers of his facade. The Sigonian stays silent as he lets your emotions take over.

“You’re, you’re way too important to me and others a-and you gamble your life away like it’s nothing! I know you’re blessed but…” you begin to pace back and forth in front of him, frustration eminent from the tension in your muscles. “You’ve made it out of insane predicaments but damn it!” Tears that had been held back finally release and it’s like a damn has finally burst.

Kakavasha gently steps toward you to cup your face. You don’t resist his touch as you lean into his embrace, shoulders shaking from your crying. He pulls you into his chest for a tight hug, breathing calmly to help bring your elevated heart rate down. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he softly confesses, “it’s been a while since someone other than family has taken a true interest in me. I’m not used to someone genuinely caring for me. And not trying to exploit or use me for something.” He shakes his head with a gasp from feeling your arms around his body.

He sighs again. “You just want me…for me. And that scares me.” His voice lowers to barely a whisper from his admittance. His shoulders relax and you can feel him melt into the hug. “I forget I don’t have to keep being Aventurine around you. Thank you.”

At that moment, fireworks erupts in the sky illuminating it in a myriad of colors. Your face is awestruck as the gorgeous colors dance across the sky. Kakavasha chuckles as he realized what Sparkle had actually done. He lifts his chin off of you, takes his pointer finger and thumb to lift your chin. Soft lips kiss yours as the fireworks display continues on. You kiss him back reverently, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer. A deep and warm feeling settled in his heart as it dawns on him what is happening.

He loves you, another human being. Someone who saw him for him; all of him. Sure he couldn’t be at the negotiations with Old Oti, but somehow he thinks this is where he was supposed to be.

[badwritinghabit]

Hello and Goodbye (part 2) | Chef Luca x fem!Reader

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Explicit smut (mdni!). Specifically oral (reader receiving) and vaginal sex, along with some minor pinning down/controlling vibes but still very sweet with lots of checking in.

Word Count: 2,835

Summary: You and Luca go on a date and reflect on the past. Then you take him home with you.

Author's Note: I was torn in a few different directions so I just wrote what felt right-- some fluffy nonsense and then smut. I am tempted to go back and write a one or two chapter prequel with some cheesy romance between younger Luca and reader from what I hinted at in the start of this chapter. Let me know if you'd be interested! Probably wouldn't be smut, just a fluff/idiots in love type story.

Months. Luca was going to stay in Chicago for months. The words hadn’t left your head since Luca had said them. You’d left the party with him, feeling floaty and light. The street lights, the far off sound of music pouring through an open window, Luca’s fingers threaded through yours.  Chicago didn’t usually feel romantic. It felt like work and school and trudging through the snow on January mornings. But that night, Chicago felt like the warm and fuzzy moment in a romantic comedy. When the main characters had reached the end of the story and had fallen in love, for real this time. And the feeling followed you home as Luca walked you to your apartment. When you unlocked the front door, he stopped you with a gentle tug on your wrist. You’d wanted to invite him up but he had leaned forward, pressed a kiss to your lips, and said he wanted to take you on a date. 

He was being sweet.

Now you’re sitting in a bar. It is next to the apartment you lived in years ago, when you and Luca had worked together. The bar had changed ownership at least once but Luca had insisted that you go check it out, for old times sake.

Luca reaches a hand over the table and grabs yours. He trails his thumb lightly across your palm, again and again. Calming and sweet. He doesn’t even seem to be thinking about it particularly, his other hand setting his pint glass down on the table after taking a drink.

“I don’t know if I like it as much anymore,” you say, as you look around the bar again, voice quiet so as to not be heard by any of the bartenders. 

Luca smiles and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “It’s cleaner.” 

You laugh. “It is cleaner. But it doesn’t feel the same anymore. I don’t think they’d let us stay until 3 am playing cards like the old days.”

“Probably not,” he agrees, his thumb still tracing your hand. “I was surprised they let us do that in the first place. I think they only let us because of you.” 

“Me?”

“You underestimate yourself. You had everyone wrapped around your finger back then,” he says. His tone is light but your heart speeds up at his heated eye contact. 

“I think you might be misremembering things,” you demur, flipping your hands on the table so that yours is on top and curling your fingers into his so that you are holding hands. 

He hums and shakes his head. “Remember when you stopped us from betting money on cards? You had us flicking each other’s foreheads when we lost.” He was smirking.

“Everyone loved that! It was fun. And we weren’t wasting money,” you defend yourself, face heating as he chuckles at your insistence. 

“Part of the fun is wasting money, love.” 

You feel your chest tighten at his use of love. “I was just being the responsible one. Someone needed to be!” 

He laughs again and squeezes your hand. “I liked it.”

You squint at him suspiciously and he just chuckles. 

“I did. Everyone did. You had us all charmed. I’m just saying, you could have convinced us lads to do anything.” 

You roll your eyes, unsure how to respond. It was a good group, you’d connected quickly and had spent an awful lot of time together outside of work. You had been too focused on him back then to really pay attention to how the other’s treated you. You don’t dwell on it, instead you brush your thumb against Luca’s and challenge him to a thumb war. He grins and immediately accepts. Unfortunately, his hand is much larger and you are quickly overpowered.

“You cheated,” you grumble. 

“How did I cheat?” 

“Your hands are too big. You have a longer thumb-span.” He laughs at that and goes back to tracing his thumb over the soft skin on your palm. “And you said I had you charmed. You didn’t even let me win.” 

He leans forward over the small table and your eyes briefly dip down as his elbow comes to rest on the table. The dark button up shirt he is wearing looks smooth in the dimmed light of the bar. His sleeves are rolled up from earlier in the evening and your eyes are drawn to his arms. His movement causes the warm, slightly woody smell of his cologne to wash over you. You meet his eyes again and he’s smirking at you, as if he could read your mind. 

“Did you want me to let you win?” his voice is low and you glance at his lips before you can stop yourself. 

“No,” you blurt quickly. “I take thumb wars seriously.” 

“I admire your competitive spirit.”

You blink at him as he grips your hand again, preparing for another thumb war. His eyes are still locked on yours. You couldn’t help but think he had become too good at flirting since you’d last seen him.

The bartender brings you another drink, and before long you realize it has gotten later than you realized. Luca walks you home, giving you his jacket when he catches you shivering after a gust of wind. 

You hesitate at the door. You stick your keys in the lock, faltering slightly but opening it. “Are you going to come up this time?” you ask, shifting nervously as you stand on your doorstep and turn to look at him.

“I’d like to. If you’ll have me.” 

You smile and grab his wrist to pull him in after you. You unlock the door to your apartment and swing it open, sliding off your shoes as you walk in. You take off the coat he gave you and put it on the hook near your door. Luca follows, looking around your apartment after setting his shoes next to your own. 

“I like the painting,” he starts, “where did you–”. Before he can finish, you’re leaning up and pressing your lips against his. 

When he hesitates, you pull back. “Sorry, I thought–”

And then he is cutting you off, hands on your cheeks as he pulls your mouth back to his. He’s soft and so painfully sweet, your heart skips a beat. His hand slides down, fingers warm against the back of your neck as his thumb presses against your chin. 

You reach up and pull lightly on his collar, urging him closer to you, inviting him to kiss you harder. You open your mouth and his tongue meets yours. Still soft and sweet. After a breath you nip gently at his lower lip and he groans, making you smile.

One of his hands drops and finds your hip, pulling you closer and then sliding up, playing with the hem of your sweater. You undo the top button of his shirt and then the second. You pull back for a breath and his hands are careful, as they slide under your shirt. His eyes never stray from yours, making sure you are okay with him taking the next step. 

“Let’s go to my room,” you breathe. And he follows you down the hall. You pull your sweater off over your head. Before you can unzip your skirt he stops you. 

“Let me take my time,” he says, voice low in your ear. He’s standing behind you. You feel small under him as his hands slide from your hips, upward. You arch back the slightest bit, pressing your ass against him. You hear him exhale harshly and his hand cups your breasts over your bra. He slowly unzips your skirt with his other hand and you stop yourself from whining as you want him to go faster. He seems to notice your impatience. 

“I’ve thought about all of the things I would do if I got another chance with you.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers and you arch again. He keeps talking, his voice and the exquisitely dirty things he says, making you more and more needy. He groans your name.

“Luca. I need-” you say, somewhere between a gasp and a whine. 

“I know.” His voice is low, almost a growl. Him taking control is making your knees quiver. His hand trails down from your chest to your panties, middle finger sliding gently over your center. He presses just the tiniest bit, a teasing pressure against your clit making you grip his wrist. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, staying his hand but not moving away. 

You nod quickly and then say aloud, “yes”. 

“Let me know if you want me to stop, yeah?” 

“I won’t want to stop,” you say immediately. He grins and you feel it as he presses his lips to the column of your throat and nips gently at the sensitive skin. His hand slips inside your underwear, running his finger through your folds. You jolt a little at the sensation and he pulls away gently, pausing to slide your underwear down your legs. 

“You’re still dressed,” you say, suddenly self conscious. He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and your eyes drop and trace the smooth, chiseled lines of his chest. Your eyes trail along his tattoos and you reach out to the touch one on his shoulder. 

He presses you forward and you lay back onto your bed. He unbuckles his belt and slides his pants to the floor. He is left in his underwear as he leans over you. He presses his lips to your neck and then chest, mouth going lower and lower.  

He kisses the curve of your stomach, pressing his lips gently across your hip. He bites the soft skin at the point your thigh meets your hip and your leg flexes involuntarily. 

He’s teasing you. Your breath exhales in a whine as he moves across to your other hip, not paying any attention where you need him most. 

“Luca,” you say as his teeth gently mark your skin. You twitch, moving your hips closer to his face. 

“What is it?” he asks, still not giving you what you want. 

“Please,” you gasp. And then his fingers are spreading your folds and his tongue is gentle against your clit. You nearly sob, a choked breath exhaling at the relief. He slides a finger inside, and adds another, you breathe in, not even realizing how empty you felt until he was there. His tongue keeps a steady pressure with his soft licks as he starts pumping his fingers in and out. 

You’re trying not to buck too hard into his mouth. He presses an arm against your thigh to keep you open for him and something about his casual control makes your heart pound harder. 

He doesn’t stop the perfect drag of his tongue on your clit, even as you plummet over the edge, gasping his name. His fingers glide against your sensitive walls until you buck away, overstimulated from his ministrations.

He slides his fingers from inside of you and crawls up to lay beside you. You blink up into his eyes, catching your breath as you watch him. His hand is gently stroking up and down your side, as if helping calm your body after your orgasm. You lean forward and pull his face to yours, kissing him hard. 

“I have condoms,” you say as you pull back to catch your breath. He sits up and grabs his own from a wallet beside his bed. 

You watch as he slides his boxers over his hips and he catches your eyes, grinning at you teasingly for having caught you checking him out. He’s already slid the condom on and before he can say something to tease you, you climb into his lap. His eyes widen in surprise but he grips your hips and helps you stabilize yourself on top of him.

You kiss him as your hand slides down his chest, fingers trailing across the firm heat of his chest, downwards. You feel him twitch in your hand as you grasp his cock and press yourself down onto him, slowly. You groan at the feel of him, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his.

The feeling of him inside you is divine– hot and hard and the perfect stretch. You breathe shallowly as you lower yourself fully onto him. 

He gives you a moment, not moving as he feels you squeeze around him torturously. He presses kisses to your neck, soft and sweet. After a few breaths, he reaches up and runs his hand through your hair before gently grabbing it at the base of your neck in his fist and tugging lightly. Your thighs clench reflexively and you meet his eyes. 

“Are you still feeling good, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Sorry, just adjusting.”

“No apologizing,” he admonishes gently, cupping your cheek. “You feel so good,” he says, “better than I remembered.” He says your name in a sigh as you clench around him, his other hand gripping your hip a little more tightly. “I’ve thought about you a lot,” he continues, voice low. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” 

You press your lips to his for a quick kiss then move your hips up. The feeling of him moving inside of you forces you to take a breath and you pull back, mouth open. 

“So pretty,” he says, watching you arch on top of him, his hand moving from your hips to your ass, squeezing before pulling you to him a little as he lifts his hips under you. You gasp as he presses even deeper inside you. You speed up your movement on top of him as he starts to meet your hips. 

He feels your legs shake after he thrusts again and he wraps an arm around your waist and rolls you over, his other arm propping himself up over you. He thrusts slowly at first but increases the pace until you are gripping his shoulders, legs locked around him, heels pressed into the heated skin of his lower back.

You reach a hand up to hold onto his wrist resting near your head. He immediately grips your hand, entwining your fingers with his and pressing your hand to the bed. You arch up and he shifts and grabs your other hand as well, pushing it up by the other and pinning both to the bed. He meets your eyes to make sure you’re okay and you immediately nod, gasping out his name and pressing your hips up to meet his again.

You exhale as he presses his hips all the way against yours in one smooth motion. Then he is pounding into you, little exhaled sighs leave your lips with each thrust. You’re stretched full and the force has you just on the edge of pain. Every stroke your clit rubs against his pelvis and you feel yourself get close again. 

He’s coaxing you to another orgasm, his thrusts hard and deep and hitting all of the right places.

You only catch a few of the things he says to you as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge-- 

“Fuck, can you hear how wet you are?”

“So good for me.”

“I want you to let go. Come on, pretty girl.”  

“Luca,” you say his name, eyes locked on his for a second before they slam shut as you tumble over the edge of your second orgasm. You arch up, twisting lightly in his hold and he continues to press into you, holding your wrists down as he fucks you through the waves of pleasure. After a few more thrusts his hips stutter and he presses inside of you and groans as he reaches his own peak. 

You’re breathing heavily as he slides out of you. He disposes of the condom and lays next to you again. You’re still breathing heavily and he is holding you, warm and stable next to you. 

You know you need to get up and clean yourself off. Instead, you reach up and pull his hair, now slightly damp with sweat, bringing him in for another soft kiss. 

“Have you really been thinking of me all of this time?” you ask, breathless as you pull away. 

“Every day,” he confesses readily, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Your heart races at his admission. His easy affection. 

“I’ve thought about you a lot too.” You meet his eyes and see only the softest adoration so you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed when you say it. Or when you lean into him again, hugging him tightly to you. He hugs you tighter and you giggle as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck. 

“Let’s take a shower, yeah?” 

You agree and stand up, stretching your arms over your head. You catch him looking at your chest and he grins at you, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “Round two in the shower?” 

You laugh, cheeks warming.

“We have to make up for lost time, love.”

[mirkoluvs]

★ JJK SMAU - DATING SATORU GOJO

notes: these are actually sm fun to make omg 😭 request box has been opened again !!

→ geto ver. !!

♥︎ liked by thestrongest, yuj1tadori, shokoko, kenton, and others…

y/nstivies: meet our son !

tagged: thestrongest

thestrongest: im such a proud father 😭😭😭🥺🤍

shokoko: this is disgusting i feel sick

↳ thestrongest: good thing you’re a nurse you hater.

↳ shokoko: i lost my diploma

↳ thestrongest: ok.

yuj1tadori: IM AN UNCLE 🎉🎉🎉🎉

liked by y/nstivites and thestrongest

↳ itgirlsaki: would that make you megumis uncle

↳ megumifushiguro: do not.

↳ yuj1tadori: i could be if he wants

↳ megumifushiguro: i promise you i don’t want that

kenton: don’t you already have a kid?

↳ thestrongest: no???

↳ kenton: fushiguro???

↳ thestrongest: i pushed this one out of my womb tho

↳ kenton: deleting this whole thread.

megumifushiguro: are you replacing me with a stuffed animal rn

↳ y/nstivies: megumi this is your new sibling!

↳ megumifushiguro: stop.

itgirlsaki: ugly ass kid

↳ thestrongest: DONT SPEAK ON MY CHILD LIKE THAT AGAIN?

↳ itgirlsaki: the way you never defend megumi this hard when i call him ugly

↳ thestrongest: i defend him mentally

♥︎ liked by thestrongest, utahim3, shokoko, kenton, and others…

y/nstivies: MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

tagged: thestrongest

thestrongest: MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRL

utahim3: how much do you wanna bet hes just going to go pick up mcdonalds

↳ shokoko: LMFAOOAO

↳ y/nstivies: howd you know 😕

↳ utahim3: because it’s gojo.

↳ y/nstivies: yeah you have a point

↳ thestrongest: WDYM SHE HAS A POINT???

liked by y/nstivies, shokoko, and utahim3

shokoko: he does not need that waist

↳ y/nstivies: THATS WHAT I SAY EVERY SINGLE DAY

↳ shokoko: this is unjust…

yuj1tadori: i want to be gojo when i grow up

liked by thestrongest

↳ megumifushiguro: you need to dream bigger

↳ itgirlsaki: DONT ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS 🔥🔥

↳ thestrongest: you guys are the meanest students ever.

♥︎ liked by yuj1tadori, megumifushiguro, shokoko, itgirlsaki, and others…

thestrongest: i love my gf more than any other man could love their gf (thanks nanami) 😜

tagged: y/nstivies

itgirlsaki: no way you made nanami third wheel on your date

↳ thestrongest: he actually took this by his own will because he adores me and y/n

↳ kenton: no i didnt.

↳ thestrongest: notice how he didn’t deny that he adores us

↳ kenton: i like y/n, not you.

↳ thestrongest: ignoring that we love you too nanami 🤍

shokoko: you don’t even drink??

↳ y/nstivies: he ordered water in shot glasses the whole time 🙁

↳ shokoko: LMFAOOAOOO

↳ thestrongest: THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY BETWEEN US???

↳ y/nstivies: oops (you have to forgive me)

↳ thestrongest: …

© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!

[chubbydino]

since i probably won't finish it...

Max pulled at the clasp of his TAG Heuer Monaco with a lump in his throat. He felt sick. Everyone in the paddock assume it was the Singapore heat, and Max let them think it as he mopped more sweat from his brow. He certainly wasn’t built for humidity. His eyes burned and itched, but not from the stagnant air or sweat dripping into his eyes.

He’d only seen flashes of Daniel since the checkered flag, and each one made Max feel worse than the last. First, the glimpse of him bent over in the cockpit, taking in the moment like it would be his last in a way that made Max’s heart crush itself. Then the brief look to the screens during interview, where he’d seen Daniel’s tears and the fake smile he knew almost as well as his own.

Racing was as exhilarating as it was cruel. Max’s father taught him early. Doom was always licking at his heels, ready to swallow him when he stumbled. Max feared that Daniel was already lost to the shadowy depths, and he’d been too busy fighting for second fucking place to see it. 

“Max?” his press officer called through the door to his driver room. 

“Yes, you can come in,” Max replied, still fussing with the clasp on his watch. He was two holes past the biggest notch—the one from his eighteen year-old wrist. 

Now, he had a girlfriend. One who knew who he really was and let him be it as long as he didn’t make it public. Max had no intention of ever doing that, because he wasn’t fucking gay. He wasn’t. He was just whatever it meant to be in love with someone who happened to be a man. He didn’t like men—only one. He only loved one.

“Daniel left already,” Max’s press officer said, still out of breath from her jog across hospitality.

Max blinked. “What?”

“He changed and left.”

Max’s stomach dropped through the floor. 

He thought of Niki Lauda, of all people. His dad didn’t like Niki. His dad said Niki bet on the wrong horse, that he was an idiot everyone called a genius because he had a stick so far up his ass it talked for him sometimes. Max only spoke to Niki a few times, but one time stood out. One moment, really.

This is the strange thing, Niki said. You send your life so focused on the seconds, then you say goodbye to a friend and never see them again. It will happen when you don’t expect it—just like everything else in this business.

Max cleared his throat. “Did they say where he was going?”

“The airport. He took his rental to turn it in.”

Max tugged the clasp in place. “Really? Who is he flying with? What charter?”

His press officer frowned. Her hair had curled in the humidity. He’d never say anything, but it didn’t look very good.

“Daniel booked a commercial flight,” she said softly. “He, um. He wanted the first plane out.”

Max’s insides twisted up on themselves. He scrambled for his backpack and slung it on. “Thanks for the info. I’m heading out too. Please have travel prep my jet—now.”

A year ago, Christian wouldn’t have allowed this. He’d force Red Bull to pay for a charter before he ever let Daniel fly with normal people. Even in first class, people loved to bother them. Everyone wanted signatures, pictures—they didn’t give a shit how you were feeling or what kind of day you had. 

He called Daniel as he ran for the car park. The phone rang but Daniel didn’t pick up, which meant he was still on land, at least.

Take my plane, he texted. Fuck first class.

The text thread was a barrage of blue. Max hadn’t realized how unresponsive Daniel had become since Friday, but he saw it now.

[heart2beom]

a lost bet!

pairing: frenemy!beomgyu x reader

genre: fluff, comedy

summary: you lose a bet to beomgyu and out of everything you'd think he'd ask of you -- money, to pour freezing water on yourself out in the snow, hell, you thought it'd be more likely for him to ask you to jump off a cliff and survive than telling you to take him out on a date.

word count: 2.2k

notes: cheesy stuff but if you read it till the end, a heart is always appreciated :') if you read it and liked it, please reblog ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

there are people who would be described as two peas in a pot, the half of the other, siblings from another mother -- the idea that they complete each other, that they work so well together that they must be of the same thread.

to describe your relationship with beomgyu, those metaphors would never even have came up in the light of day because you guys just don't work. you like what he likes and he likes what you like. you do what he does, and he does what you do. for heavensake, you've known each other since highschool and you still ended up in the same dream university, in the same dream careers, in the same fast food job! and that is exactly why you don't work. the arguments that fester from being just a little too similar got extreme back when you were teenagers, terribly extreme you couldn't even blame it on hormones.

girls who'd be interested in beomgyu every three weeks would come up to you at the randomest times to ask if there was anything going on between you two and the first couple girls, your friends would die of laughter because of how inaccurate the assumption was. "her and beomgyu? beomgyu with the long hair? him and y/n? the y/n that's standing next to us right now?"

it was safe to say that after a while, the entire engineering major knew you and beomgyu would never happen. and you were content with that.

that is until that day happened, the day you lost the bet.

you were feeling lots of things before he'd decide on a what you'd do - fear, fear was a big one.

"hey, go easy on me." you reluctantly said quietly.

"huh?" he put a hand behind his ear, "what'd you say?"

it was embarrassing enough that you couldn't complete the software in time when you're known in the major for being the fastest, but it was even worse to give beomgyu the satisfaction of you being scared. you already caught a smirk on his face, fucker.

"i said...go easy on me you prick."

"okay okay here, since you're begging, i'll give you a deal." he folded his arms, acting like he was thinking of this on the spot. "i'll go easy on you if you don't ask any questions about my dare." and that was when you knew that he had this planned out - you took the bait anyway, just of the small chance you might avoid jumping off a cliff.

"okay, i accept the deal, whats the dare?"

"take me, choi beomgyu..." he was elongating every vowel and you'd hate to admit it but every time he does it, as annoying as it is, it does manage to do its job and keeps you on your toes to want to know what he'd say next.

but the long pause that day was way more annoying than usual.

"just say it!", you yelled.

"on a date!" he yelled immediately in response. "jesus christ you're so impatient."

beomgyu saw you open your mouth to say something and he anticipated it so he quickly shut you up with a finger on your lips.

"no questions, remember?", you rolled your eyes and snatched his finger off your lip. "here are the rules. one, you're paying for everything-"

"broke ass." you cursed under your breath and he caught it.

"who's working three shifts again?" well, that got you quiet. "two, it has to be the best date i've ever been on. like spectacular, jaw dropping, 5 star restaurant. you know i'm a wanted, highly desirable man. and three, if you break the rules, you'll have to try again. but hey, i trust you'll get it on the first try. i'm going to go easy on you."

and that is how you find yourself on the 9th try of trying to woo beomgyu with a date and finally get the dare over with. i'm going to go easy on you? bullshit.

the first three times, it was aggravating to know that you failed and had to go on another date. the next four to eight times, you viewed it as another assignment to overcome - like a game? that period was ambitious (hello, you literally drove four hours for one of the dates once) so when even those failed, you entered your nine times to how many the fuck you know times. you've never went on this many dates with someone you weren't even in a relationship with.

and by now you'd figured that beomgyu was just freeloading off of you. that asshole. you would totally do something like that..

like it was the devil's calling, beomgyu came through the door of the desserted cafe that you part timed at.

"hey! welcome to bist-- beomgyu." you said his name grimly, staring at him walk over to your register.

"oh my god, i did not know you worked here! fancy seeing you partner!"

"beomgyu, you literally used to work with me-- you know what? no. i just took the last order. we're closing the store."

he looked at his wrist, like he was reading a watch but when he dropped his hand down, there was indeed, no real watch.

"it's seven on a thursday, you aren't fooling me."

you groan dramatically like a child, frustrated. "what do you want beomgyu? i can't afford to hear your voice one more time this week, i'm serious i think i need to get myself checked out before i'm driven to insanity." you mumbled as he looked up at the menu, his iris going left and right trying to decipher which one would be the cheapest, and not taste like total shit. "can i get a...hmm...this is a lot of options..."

"a triple shot soy decaf vanilla latte with whipped cream?", you filled in.

"no not--wait, hold on. that sounds really good."

"because it is good." you said rolling your eyes playfully, this time.

"is it cheap?"

"the cheapest." you said, cracking a smirk. it was times like these where you remember that you and beomgyu are still the friends part of the frenemy title you both chose to adopt.

a more genuine fond smile warmed up on beomgyu's face, because he had the same exact thought.

"well its not technically the cheapest--" he started.

"don't ruin the moment beomgyu." you said heading to the backroom.

"i'm just saying, you were being deceitful! also there was no moment!" you heard beomgyu call out. secretly, you let out a quick chuckle to that.

when you finally got him his order, you expected him to leave...but of course, you thought too highly of him. because there he was, elbows on the counter, sipping his coffee (milkshake) really..really loudly. it was like his sole purpose was to annoy the fuck out of you.

"do you want me to direct you to a table mr. choi?" you said in your fake nice voice sarcastically as your back was turned from him to wash the tools that you used.

"y/n i have a question."

"answer mines first."

"when is the next date--i mean, like, your next, um..attempt? try? what are we calling it?"

you exhale, you knew he was going to mention it.

"it's today. surprise!" you turned around with a terrifying toothy smile, doing jazz hands.

"you just decided this last minute didn't you?" you shook your head, still keeping up a smile. "also stop smiling like that oh my god."

and the smile was dropped. "okay, so what if i decided just now? you know, the cheapest dates are the best dates."

"literally nobody has ever said that." he said, taking another sip of his drink, shaking his head slowly disapprovingly.

"no, yeah you're right i don't know why i just did." you said, very much perplexed those words came out of your mouth -- you'll call it your first stage of insanity.

"look, i'm going to be completely honest, i don't think you'll ever top the paris hot balloon date with that cute foreign chick."

you scoffed, coming closer to the counter with your arms crossed. "um pfft, i thought we collectively, we as in the whole world by the way, agreed that you made that date up."

"you're the only one who thinks it didn't happen, i literally showed you pictures! and it's not that hard to believe, i am universally hot stuff." he shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. "wait hey, i think i still have the pictures, let me show you."

his eyes were narrowed, scrolling on his phone.

"okay okay, enough. also don't call yourself hot stuff again." you covered his phone screen and he looks up at you confused. "lets say it did happen.."

"it did happen!"

"...if you knew i wasn't going to top your extravagant paris date, why'd you even add the second rule?"

for the first time, beomgyu didn't have an immediate response. he was quiet, way too quiet.

"look, you can just tell me you were trying to freeload off of me." beomgyu looks taken back, his face scrunched up, so you add more to clarify, "i would be pissed but you don't have to be all secretive about it. i can get over it if you pay me four hundred dollars in cash--"

"let's say i was freeloading off you, which by the way, i should've thought of that--"

"correction, you were freeloading off of me."

beomgyu ignores you. "you know what, i just thought of something. there is one way you could top the hot balloon paris date."

your interest was piqued but you try not to show how your ears perked up, and clear your throat. "what is it?"

despite your attempt to seem disinterested, when beomgyu motions to bring your head closer so he can whisper something, you don't hesitate.

"i don't know, maybe it'll be too hard on you...like it takes a lot of courage--"

"just say it!" you yelled impatiently.

"say i liiike you beomgyu-ah~" he said with what you think is a pout, and top of that you'd bet a hundred bucks that he was fluttering his long lashes too.

you pull your head away. "beomgyu."

he shrugged. "i'm giving you a very easy task, take it or leave it."

you exhale, its true. it isn't that bad. "i'm not doing the aegyo though."

"thats the entire point! just don't do it at all then."

"oh, okay. bye, it wasn't pleasant seeing you beomgyu, as always." you waved him away and start untying your apron to leave your shift, but beomgyu was still there. because you've heard the third groan in a row.

you, however, didn't notice that he came to the back in the register area until you felt his hand touching your struggling ones that were trying to untie your apron for the past..three minutes now.

you dropped them to your sides, feeling a little awkward at the sudden proximity.

"were you actually going to close?" he asked as you felt beomgyu trying to untangle the knot.

"no that was a lie, i'm leaving because my shift ended."

"huh. you know i was about to apologize for bothering you. and i never apologize."

"who said you weren't bothering me anyway? in fact, you've been bothering me this whole month more than normal."

you looked back to beomgyu, "why'd you stop? can you try to untie it faster?"

"alright alright, jesus."

the rest of the time that he spent untying the knot, it was quiet. oddly.

"done. i have to go now though, homework and stuff." he said backing away.

you stopped him by holding his wrist back. "hey, are you mad? it's kind of weird, i've never seen you mad."

he looked back at you with a raised brow. you rolled your eyes, correcting yourself. "okay, well i've never seen you mad this month"

you let go of his wrist because hes fully turned to face you, with his arm crossed.

"maybe, maybe i wasn't mad because i didn't see hanging out with you to be the biggest nuisance in the world."

"well..you're mad now."

"say i like you."

"huh?"

"you don't have to do the aegyo, i'm exempting it because i am a very nice friend."

okay, so now you're lost. you don't know what's going on, at all. but hey at least you'll get a perk of ending the dare!

do you...want to end the dare?

okay, what the actual fuck. why are you having that thought?

"i like you beomgyu-ah." you mumbled reluctantly in the most monotone, robotic voice ever. and his previous sorta serious face morphs into a fit of laughter.. KNEE slapping laughter.

"god you should've--you should've seen your face!" he said pointing at you while he uses his other hand to hold his stomach. like an elementary bully ad.

and the fit of laughter continued.

"was that whole im mad act fake? you're...ugh." you groaned. another day, another beomgyu being a total dick.

you took beomgyu by the wrist again to push him out of the back. "bye! it's time for you to leave!" you said loudly.

"alright alright i'm leaving--ow!"

you had to go through seeing him laughing all the way to the exit door, but hey, at least he was gone. you sigh, relieved.

but then you hear the ding again.

"i like you too by the way" beomgyu shouted out. and then left again.

typical annoying, irritating, choi beomgyu. leaving you to make an analysis of what he meant by saying that... for the entire night.

[k2ntoss]

"“On your knees.” While their fingers thread through your hair, guiding you onto the floor." with Jason? 😳

guess who fell sick FROM A KFC CHICKEN PIECE!!! i'm dying but anyways first one of the nighty-night!!! omg i just love writing this stuff with jay it's just hehehe :3 here we go, my dear anon, thanks for your request. adding vigilante!reader here bc my head has ideas.

"on your knees." while their fingers thread through your hair, guiding you onto the floor.

it was usual for you to steal kisses from jason's lips whenever you walked past him and everyone around had grown used to it, soft pecks followed by a pretty smile as you carried your gear after a mission or when you walked around the training arena. it wasn't weird anymore not even for bruce because he knew that you needed each other.

this time wasn't much different besides the fact that tim and damian were fighting right in front of jason at the time you had to pass by his side, carrying a couple of knives you stood next to him and nudged his side softly, a silent sing for him to lean down so you could reach and kiss him and he did, lips softly touching yours in a sweet motion that made his younger sibblings grunt at the missing attention because they sworn they needed his opinion.

"i bet you have better things in mind to do rather than getting involved on a new discussion with them" you murmur against his lips, a small smirk when you noticed your tease working on him even if it wasn't meant to at first.

"and i bet you've never been told you speak way too much, haven't ya?" jason asks cockily, standing straight once again and looking at you with his arms crossed over his chest and you can't help but chuckle when his eyes linger for a little more on your lips before he looks back at his brothers.

"all i hear is you're in love with me, todd" your words bring a scowl to damian's face and drag a tired sigh from tim, probably a little too over the loverbirds shit you always manage to pull out of jason when you're close. of course he's not always so sweet with you but you've pulled onto his more human side and that had helped jason to feel more worthy of a lot of stuff, because you've been there to teach him that not being perfect wasn't bad.

"i hate it when you're right." he chuckles and shakes his head, leaning in to drap an arm over your shoulders and pressing a kiss to your temple, looking over you and taking in your figure, the way the gray suit hugged your curves before getting lost under the waist of your cargo pants made your body look even more desireable and he just smirked to himself "i wish there was a way to shut your mouth at least for a while."

if you didn't knew him you would have thought he was pissed off by your comments but the undertone of tease and mischief on his words was clear for you and you understood his intentions, even clearer when you noticed jason's eyes wandering around the cave to make sure it was just the two of you there.

"well, maybe there is" you say, as if wondering the answer but jason is quick to grab your hand and pull you upstairs and between chuckles he makes his way to the library as he looked into any other room to make sure there wasn't a chance of being caught like two horny highschoolers, but that was the fun in this all.

"yeah? what would that be?" he asks once he finds a nice spot. that chair he always picks in between all the spaces around the manor because it's comfortable and because it is the first place he kissed you "does it has anything to do with that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around my dick?"

it takes jason almost nothing to change the tone of his voice, he sits on the big chair and pulls you closer by the waist to place you on his lap just so he can capture you lips in a new kiss, this time hungrier and harsher. his hands grip onto your hips as yours claw softly on his chest, kissing him back and letting his tongue intrude into your mouth when he deepens the contact of your lips.

"here? in broad daylight?" you ask him teasingly but jason knows you couldn't care less when your hips push against his making your body grind against his "if we get caught you know we won't hear the end of it, jason." and your boyfriend knows that's true but there isn't too many people to find you both and he is 50% sure he just locked the door but that's just details.

"i don't really care and i'm sure you don't care either" he says in a low tone, looking up at you as his hands trace the outline of your figure until he squeezes your breast playfully and leans in to kiss your jaw, nibbling on the zone as if he was tasting you for the first time ever and he just got adicted to the feeling of your flushed skin.

it takes a few more heated kisses, your hips grinding against him and the sound of your heavy breathing mixed with the noise of your clothes until he pulls away with a predatory smirk as he pushes your body from his.

"on your knees." jason's voice sounds hoarse and it drives shivers down your spine because his hand touches you in a soft way as his fingers threat through your hair as his other hand pushes you by the waist to get you off his lap, the hand that is still on your head is now guiding you slowly to the floor and making you kneel between his legs.

it's not hard to do as he wants and it's even easier to lean in closer and press a playful kiss on the bulge that you can spot under his pants, the action itself makes jason's eyes darken as your fingers work undoing his belt and the buttons of his jeans, pulling down slightly with a hint of urge just to lift his shirt a little, exposing his lower abdomen and kissing a trail until your lips reach the waist of his boxers.

"you look so pretty like that, princess," he practically growls as his hand brushes your hair out of your face, a smirk playing on his lips when your eager hands pull down his underwear as your eyes remain fixed on his.

"i don't know what i'll do if you keep looking at me like that, jay" you purr and he chuckles but the sound stops as soon as it starts when you grab his hardened dick on your hand and give him the first slow stroke as you lean in to wrap your lips around the swollen tip and at the feeling of having him in your mouth you hum.

"i think i know what you'll do" jason teases, letting out a deep groan when you bob your head up and down with your tongue tracing his shaft but what drives him crazy is the way you look at him through doe eyes and the ghost of a smile on your expression as you start moving with him in your mouth.

"that's it, ma," he growls as his eyes close and his head drops back, his hand finding its way to the back of your head where it grabs a handful of your hair "feels so good to have that pretty mouth of yours taking me so damn well, such a good girl."

the sight is amazing, the way he frowns when a deep raspy sound escapes his throat when he starts pushing your head down his dick, making you gag a little when he hits the back of your throat and keeps you held there making it hard to breath, he enjoys it.

the way your hands hold onto his thighs and how you look up at him with teary eyes, your cheeks red and the sloppy sounds his cock makes as he fucks your mouth slowly but harshly makes him feel his ego grow at each helpless moan you let out.

"think i'll shut you up by fucking your throat more often," he says, voice completely low and hoarse now that he controls the movements of your head and sets the pace on his own, getting off with the way you look with your chin full of your drool and his precum, a few tear trails now painting your cheeks.

it's right then when he pulls you away from his dick, stroking himself needily as he looks at you with a wide grin that lets you know what he wants to; you sit on your knees and your eyes follow the movements of his hand around himself and you can't seem to notice when you start to bounce a little in expectation.

"just look at you, how eager you look, ma" he mumbles, his voice struggled between sighs and growls as his hand moves fast when he is about to reach his climax "bouncing like a pretty bunny... open your mouth, love."

the way he speaks and the sinful scene mixed with the sweet pet names he calls you makes everything better. as soon as you part your lips, tongue sticking out jason moves a bit closer and places the tip of his cock over your tongue and a few second later his load is being spilled inside your mouth, a little of it staining your chin when he pulls away panting.

jason is unable to take his gaze away from you as you swallow what you just got and the tension builds up again on his body just with the sight of it, he tries to hold it back and cleans your chin with his thumb in a sweet caress then moving to search for something he could use to clean himself and also you but stops as soon as you take his hand and suck his digit clean.

"what? haven't you been taught not to waste?" you ask him teasingly and his control vanishes completely at your words.

"fucking hell, you're gonna have to come here because there's no way i'll be letting you go right now"

[pikahlua]

Not the same anon, but there was a thread on X summarizing problems with this chapter and how rushed it feels. I think these are pretty valid criticism if I am being honest. [link removed] I really love MHA and I want to enjoy this epilogue, but I really do feel like it is being rushed in some places.

I resubmitted this ask to remove the link. I'm not interested in sending critics flying at someone I disagree with.

The link you provided is for a criticism that is precisely the sort of commentary my blog exists to correct. Why are you guys judging the story based on a bad fan translation??? Is that really what the issue is here? If you're feeling like a chapter is rushed based on Rukasu's rushed summaries or my own disjointed, unnatural-sounding translations or the fan translations that just push along with awkward translations they clearly don't research that well, yeah, I bet it does seem pretty rushed.

Fan translation (left) vs official translation (right)

Some differences are stark and some subtle, but they all lead to totally different readings!

And as for this criticism:

And while I get what Horikoshi was trying to communicate here, the execution is just... Absolutely tone deaf

I don't understand how anyone could say something like they know what the author intended in good faith when they KNOW they're reading a fan translation.

Starting with the 1st page: now, I get Horikoshi is trying to this monologue more for the audience to highlight Uraraka's self sacrificial tendencies similar to Izuku in order to explain her behavior and showcase her flaws. [...] Because, in universe, Uraraka is breaking down with guilt and grief over someone she finally reached/understood sacrificing her life for her, something only SHE knows, and Izuku shows up, ignoring what's going on, and starts "explaining" her flaws and HIS feelings about it all. [...] Now, again, I understand that Hori is trying to communicate to the audience that Izuku has realized Uraraka's flaws and struggles and is deciding to become her support instead.

This reading completely ignores the fact that Ochako doesn't want to open up. Izuku is trying to convince her to! That's what's happening in this scene! He's not "ignoring" what happened with Toga--because he doesn't even know what happened! That's part of why Ochako is so upset!

I've explained before how the western fandom has a bad reading on these so-called self-sacrificial "flaws" Izuku and now ostensibly Ochako have. This is not the first time a character has realized they relied too much on another person's strength and let that person shoulder their burdens alone. All Might acknowledged the same thing with Katsuki after DvK2. I do not think what Izuku is doing here is "explaining her flaws and HIS feelings about it all." My reading of this scene is based on their conversation after she lost to Katsuki in the sports festival. He's saying the same stuff she said to him back to her. He's talking about HIS OWN flaws. He's saying "You are my hero, the way you've been since the beginning is heroic, I admire you, when you're hurting I'll protect you just like you protected me, I won't be a burden by relying on your strength to get you through and letting you handle your pain alone anymore, I'll pull my own weight and be here for you now that you need me, it will be easier to shoulder the pain together." That last part is coming from her UA speech, of course, and I don't know how it could be more relevant to addressing Ochako's pain. "Please open up to me, just like you encouraged me to do." That's what he's saying!

Now, the other criticism this person levies is that using Izuku as a vehicle of exposition is clunky. I don't disagree, but the thing is...this isn't new. This isn't unique to the ending. He's been like this really since chapter 1. I've criticized this before. This isn't a sudden change that makes the ending feel any more rushed than any other part of the story. To focus on this just feels like an attempt by the critic to FIND something to criticize.

I do think there is an emotional reaction at play in the fandom's general response here, but I'm not convinced that the criticism I've been reading actually gets to the heart of what's upsetting people. Something IS upsetting people. Is it BAD WRITING? I'm not sure. In some (not all) cases it seems to be a bad reaction to tragedy or anticlimax. I do also think there are people who have convinced themselves such and such will be addressed, that these two characters will talk about X, etc. etc. and they're panicking that there may not be any space allotted for that in the end, and that's why they feel things are being "rushed." I certainly have some criticisms I could levy at the ending, but I'd like to wait until the ending (the OFFICIAL ending) before I put them on the record.

The thing is, in the end, "what Horikoshi was trying to do" is entirely irrelevant to the final product. If all we do is just argue over what we each think Horikoshi was trying to do, we'll get no where. This was hammered into me in my education, that what an author intended is useless to literary analysis. When I find something in a story that doesn't make sense to me, I take a step back and try to figure out what reading does make it make sense. Sometimes I have to ask others their opinions to puzzle it out. I do appreciate that you sent me this criticism, but I am not yet convinced the fandom has truly identified any concrete issues with the actual writing of the ending as of now. I'm not saying the ending is perfect, just that the problems I see with the ending are very different from what the fandom so far keeps talking about.

[tigreblvnc]

NSFW BLUE LOCK OPTION* MATCHUP EXCHANGE — @lumiambrose *Pick the character of your choice!

— Itoshi Sae

We all know that Sae isn’t the sweetest man on earth. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. We don’t know much about his private life. We don’t know much about his life at all.

Thanks to Shidou, we at least know that Sae has an Instagram account. That said, it's a safe bet that it’s not even him who replies to his fans’ messages -- his manager probably handles the annoying stuff. But did you know that Sae has various other apps on his phone?

Yeah, there’s this one in particular. Hidden in a folder. Inside another folder.

Because some things must be kept secret.

"9 am. Be ready."

The message makes you skip a heartbeat.

Sae.

It was rare to receive a sign of life from him. It was even rarer for him to be the first to initiate a meeting. Before his return to Japan, he had sent you a date. An address. A hotel room number. A way to dress. Sae was not usually the kind of man to worry about details, as everything was easy for him. But for certain things, certain, very, very precise things, he could appear as the biggest control freak this earth has ever known.

And here you are behind door 1010. Facing the bay window overlooking Tokyo, you wear the delicate silk. It hugs your contours, feels like a skin of paradise on your warm epidermis.

Someone enters without knocking. You don't need to ask who. You turn towards the entrance, the manifestation of life that blossoms at your voice. There is so much to say, so much to ask. But only one chance, only one possible attempt.

"...Sae."

It's the only word that manages to cross your lips. The one with magenta hair advances. Your eyes rest on the suitcase he brings with him.

"The trip went well?" you ask, almost in a tone of confidence. "It went."

The case of his personal effects is left near the coffee table. Sae doesn't have much time, and you know it. When his gaze, cold as frost, clashes with your eyes, you swallow. He advances. His step is slow. Unbearable and devouring.

"We're going to do this quickly." "Don't hold back."

There was no fear. Only an agreement between two written messages. Between long sinuous discussions, sometimes interspersed with long silences. It was the time it took for Sae's hunger to grow.

"Get on the bed."

And your silhouette lay on the dune of sheets, satin threads draping over the curve of your thighs. Your view opened onto the cracks in the ceiling, and soon, wine-colored locks entered your field of vision. Sae did not lie down. He never actually lay down next to someone. Even after surrender, he would roll to the side, seeming to return to a state of solitude that could not be tamed.

His hand moves closer. Closer still. Until it traces the delicate hollows of your clavicles. He brushed away the brown strands to reveal your neckline. It was the place he loved to mark the most.

"One day. Your name. Right here... Just three little letters." you say with a teasing smile.

And you stuck out your tongue playfully as your body intertwined with the covers again. A snort escaped Sae. His movements stopped.

"Do you think that's how I brand my cattle? So vulgarly?"

The frown lines appeared at the crossing of his eyebrows.

"Hmm. Maybe... No?" you puffed out your cheeks in mock displeasure.

His fingers paused at the height of your jugular. Seemed to consider the warmth pulsing under the thick vein. The heat attracted Sae. He always seemed cold.

So cold.

"So? Still not determined to rip my clothes off? I thought we were going to do this quickly..." your sing-song voice resonated in Sae's ears, whose neutral expression hadn't changed. "Or maybe you didn't miss me that much... Hm?"

"Shut up."

His tone grazed your skin as his hand settled on your throat to silence the music. Gradually his back lost height, and his shadow swallowed you. The heaviness of his breath crashed into your eardrum.

"You talk too much."

And then your arms encircled him in a sudden embrace.

"...I missed you." you murmur. "Don't touch me." "Then touch me."

Your knees lifted, brushing his sides then the bridge of his ribs that opened under the sports jacket. Gradually, the cage of your thighs closed around his hips.

"Two years weren't enough to calm you down." his breathing was heavy. "An eternity wouldn't." "Then I'll have to teach you."

His weight pressed against your chest, plunging your intertwined silhouettes into the hollow of the duvet. He insinuated himself into every corner of you, his breath heavy, as if he would never fully surrender to anyone. Your silent giggle got lost in his ear, and already you could feel your decency being stripped away, lower down. The cotton slid, outlining the shape of a knee and then an ankle, until it abandoned itself on the floor. Something else moved, seeking its way. The budding fire drew a wider smile from you. Every time you tried to grasp that sculpted back, Sae pushed you away, grabbing arms and then wrists to anchor them to the seams of the mattress.

"Don't move." "Or what?"

His response came quickly as his mouth lunged at your neckline, searching for the vein to pierce. Canines sank into flesh, eliciting a jolt of surprise as your back arched. His kisses tasted raw, like a sharp blade piercing your skin.

"Sae..."

The blaze of his growls scorched your skin as he anchored himself, knees planted on the bed, looming over your exposed vulnerability. He devoured the carotid, slid down to the hollow of your neck, and then began at the rise of your chest. His hunger pushed aside the fabric, his ravenous appetite seeped into the cradle of your breath, where your heart filled with love for him.

Since they could do nothing under the weight that pinned them to the bed, your fists closed on emptiness, yet aching to tangle in the magenta locks that bowed over you.

Instinctively, everything in you gradually unraveled to make way. Sae felt it and approached closer to the gates, a blind struggle with his own walls to lower what kept his fury sealed.

He didn't wait. He asked nothing. He simply entered.

Even in this room, where two years of silence had passed Sae entered without announcing himself.

There was something electrifying in the force he used to cross. Everything inside you tightened to trap the intruder. Finally, your fists escaped his authority and seized sides and back. His body leaned forward as he advanced. The shape of his desire pressed against the thin skin of your belly. When he was buried deep inside, his lips parted, and a torrent of growls finally erupted. Nestled on the edge of your neck he swore.

And the tide began. The wave was slow and then faster. Your velvet embraced his contours, tracing the veins that surged and receded.

The waltz lasted a time that seemed so short, so infinite. The heart, a drum with a dissonant beat under the halts of pleasure, threatened soon to explode. It took waiting for the man to reach his climax to finally release the crescendo and let the fire out. When the cry of surrender pierced Sae's voice, you too celebrated, your euphoria spilling over.

Then the sea became calm again, and Sae went down like the tide.

The effort and the heat were pearling on his forehead, his temples.

And yet, facing the retreat, you raised yourself on your elbows, vestiges of euphoria oozing from your skin.

"Don't run from me." your voice made its way to him. "You know, with me, you can let go."

You couldn't see his face.

And his face emerged from the dunes, his gaze, emerald and striking, darkened.

"On your belly. Now."

A word about your match: It's a completely new format I used for this one. It's also the very first time I write an OS on this blog, it took a bit more time than expected. Hope you enjoyed it and that was understandable!

© TIGREBLVNC 2024 | INTERESTED IN A MATCHUP EXCHANGE? CHECK THIS.

[timdrakescoffeecup]

(Updated !!) Tim Drake Fanfic Masterlist

cw's will not be included, so make sure to check the tags. also might include some general batfics as well.

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

Tim asks Jason to teach him how to use a gun. (One shot, funny)

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie

Tim and Jason get trapped in a labyrinth that shows their worst nightmares. (Multi, angst, hurt/comfort)

like falling water by naheka

Dick crashes at Jason's place, hopped up on fear gas. (One shot, funny)

Bet on it by Lysical

Damian needs Jason's help to hide something from Bruce. (One shot, funny)

Deliver Yourself by forestgreen

Jason adopts his younger self. (Multi, angst)

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone. (Multi, angst)

Home by sElkieNight60

Tim forgets who he is. (Multi, angst)

Late Night Langoustining by whaleofatime

Jason adopts a lobster. (One shot, funny)

two against the world by carolinaa

While following Batman and Robin, Tim finds a puppy. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge

Tim blackmails Batman into helping him arrest his murderous uncle. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

See Life As a Worthy Opponent by TriviasGhost

Tim goes to a universe where he never existed. (Multi, incomplete)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Obedience by Sohotthateveryonedied

Something is seriously wrong with Tim—Jason just knows it. Ever since the Mad Hatter incident, Tim has been acting completely different, and the worst part is that no one believes Jason when he tells them so.

But when the truth is eventually revealed, the whole family comes to realize that the situation is far worse than anyone could have ever predicted. (One shot, angst)

To an Athlete Dying Young by SonoSvegliato

A series detailing Tim’s ascension to Robinhood, with angsty Red Hood vigilantes in the background. (Multi, angst)

Matters of the Heart by DM (Nyerus), Nyerus

Kon need's Tim's help with an investigation in Metropolis. Feelings ensue. (Multi, Timkon)

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

“Everyone’s fine. You don’t need me anymore. I told you, Bruce. I told you I’d stay until you didn’t need me anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I stayed too long. I should have... I shouldn’t have waited so long." (Multi, angst)

occam's razor by Beatrice eagle

An in-universe reddit thread about Jason's death. (One shot, funny)

To Try, To Err, To Try Again by theLiterator

Tim knits Damian a present. (One shot, wholesome?)

let's get mischievous by CreamofTomatoSoup

Tim's friend gets possessed by Dionysius. (One shot, angst)

Whoopsie by MichaBerry

Tim forgets to tell that he lost his spleen. Oops. (One shot, angst?)

Latchkey by goldkirk

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there. (Multi, hurt/comfort, this is a MUST READ for timfics)

Trouble Magnet by strikeyoucolors

"It's like you've been synchronized into passively hostile acts against Tim. Did he do something? Were you brainwashed? Because I now have a son who has been crushed, had his face broken, and been shot. All incidences of friendly fire. " (One shot, funny)

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul. (One shot, angst)

A Simple Life by RenaRoo

Tim Drake is living a simple life in one of the worst parts of Gotham. He makes the best of it, though. He makes for himself the only life he's ever known...

He thinks. (One shot, angst)

The Wound Begins to Bleed by audreycritter

Now that Tim’s moved back to the manor, he just wants a few afternoons a week without Damian around.

Funny how getting that was the catalyst for him becoming a better big brother. (One shot, brotherly bonding)

Hey, Lawman! by dinolaur

Tim goes MIA during lunch. (One shot, funny)

Gotham Banksy by LananiA3O

After finding out that he remains unavenged, Jason returns to Gotham, but instead of deciding to kill Bruce, he decides to channel his rage into a more creative endeavor: spray-painting Gotham until the message is loud and clear to everyone: fuck Batman. (Multi, angst)

Breaking News: Local Teen Given Intervention For Normal Behaviour by yellowrooster

Tim ends up in an alternate dimension where he's considered a drug addict. (One shot, funny)

Bay Through Hell by GordandV

Tim is mermaid. (Multi, AU)

Hot Dog, French Fries by eggmacguffin

Damian tries to hide that he's been hit with a truth serum. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once

Tim and Kon get married in Vegas, while drunk. (Multi, timkon)

Quarter past midnight by Aaren

Instead of being found by Talia after crawling out of his grave, Jason becomes a nurse. (Multi, canon divergence)

(Un)Wanted by Mika-chan (mikarin)

Tim gets kidnapped. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Midafternoon Beetdown by whaleofatime

Jason cosplays as a organic farmer. (One shot, funny)

Liminal Space by Calamityjim

Bruce's habit of collecting strays isn't limited by dimension. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Can't Stay Down (a Documentary) by SonoSvegliato

Tim gets his tonsils removed. (Multi, funny)

Surveillance by smilebackwards

Tim is a civilian who contributes to crime fighting by taking surveillance photos and leaving them on the desktop of the Batcomputer. (Multi, found family)

Chemistry of a Car Crash by anthologia

Tim gets into a car crash. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

Bet It all On Red by centreoftheselights

Instead of becoming enemies, Robin and Red Hood form an alliance. (One shot series, canon divergence)

False Dichotomy by heartslogos

Red Hood calls Red Robin's bandoliers "super convenient idiot handles". (One shot)

don't take you guns to town by kreestar

batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne. (One shot, angst)

Stubborn by audreycritter

When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother," you don't argue. You just do it. (Multi, sickfic)

I'm Just Fine by girlgeekjf

After rescuing a group of kidnapped children, Tim reflects on what he could’ve done better. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Christmas Miracle by Mithen

Damian and Dick go undercover to bust a child-kidnapping ring whose members dress up as Santa Claus. (One shot, funny)

Confidence Lost by C_R_Scott

Everything about Neal Caffrey’s past prior to his 18th birthday is a mystery, even to him. However, when someone unexpectedly recognizes him by a name that he has never used as an alias before, he learns that the biggest con of his life is literally his life. (or, tim is neal caffrey from white collar) (multi, crossover)

Exit Wounds by incogneat_oh

Did you hear this one? A vigilante walks into a warehouse and kills the joker. (One shot, angst)

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

Five times Jason saved his siblings, and one time they saved him. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Normally People Pass Out After by WriterfromGotham

Tim donates blood. (One shot, angst and fluff)

In Living Memory by DangerBeckett

Jason remembers why he stays out of other people's business. (One shot, angst)

Set My Mind To Wandering by Tabithian

Tim goes on a vacation. (One shot series, angst)

A Little Bit of Sunshine, A Little Bit of Rain by ohwhatevrewhatevr

For once, Tim is happy with his life. (One shot, fluff?)

American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Tim hires a ninja intern. Jason becomes concerned. (One shot, funny)

The Wrong Boy is Breathing by heartslogos

Tim visits Jason's grave all the time. (One shot, angst)

Jason Todd: The Not-So-Outlaw by GoAwayOlivia

Jason Todd isn't what Batman made him, he isn't what the Joker made him, he isn't what the League of Assassins made him, and he isn't what the Lazarus Pit made him. He's his own person and he's taking himself back, one home renovation at a time. Also he might just make friends with the people who are supposed to be his brothers while he's at it. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

The Art of Conversation by glassgoblin

Robin needs to talk to a friend, but everyone is a little busy. (One shot, angst)

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos

"I’d be doing humanity a favor.” Tim grinds out, “And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I’ve done worse.“ (One shot, funny)

How to be a male Batgirl by Blackjay27

There are many ways to help Batman and Robin, but no matter which universe he's in, Tim's method will always end with him in a costume on Gotham's rooftops. (Multi, canon divergence)

I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus by pupeez4eva

It’s Christmas time, and Damian is on a mission - to stop this ‘Santa Claus’ fellow from molesting his older brother. (Multi, funny) (this fic is so funny it made me cackle out loud)

Favourite Strangers by SpiritsFlame

It's been six months since Bruce's actions led to the death of Superman. (One shot, crossover with the movies?)

show me yesterday, for i can't find today by indent

Then: The year is 2013. Jason Todd is alive, fourteen years old, and about to follow Sheila Haywood, his birth mother, into the hands of the Joker. All he wants is to save her life.

Now: The year is 2018. Jason Todd was dead. But now he's a nineteen year old vigilante about to take down the latest C-Lister rogue. Unfortunately for him, its a rogue that specialises in time-travel technology. And what starts as an easy takedown...ends as a time travelling phenomenon.

The two Jasons swap places. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Retrograde Motion by Lysical

All Jason wanted was a case that was simple, clean, and far away from the latest mess in Gotham. Magic wasn't the Outlaws' area of expertise, but they soon found themselves investigating a dark wizard with a penchant for organ harvesting.

When an accident on the case leaves Jason as a clueless seven year old with a memory that's spotty at best, what else can his team do but go to his family for help? (Multi, hurt/comfort?)

anglerfish by envysparkler

Robin was having a horrible night even before the Red Hood showed up. (One shot, angst)

Tso'ape Mumbichi by keeptogethernow

Tim is Talon. (Multi, AU)

Kodokuno Shoujo (A Lonely Girl) by C_R_Scott

A tale of two Robins wrapped up in an Asian-style horror story. Tim Drake goes to Japan for business, both for Wayne Enterprises and Batman Incorporated. However, when he returns to Gotham City, it's Damian Wayne who discovers he brought along more from his trip overseas than just his luggage and mission report. (Multi, horror)

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Help by Loxare

Jason never went to Gotham after he emerged from the Lazarus Pit. Instead, he went to Bludhaven to begin his reign of terror. (Or Jason adopts all the children of Bludhaven.) (Multi, fluff)

Lean on me by Musingsofthesky

Tim just wants to hang out with Bruce. Too bad his cold has other plans. (One shot, sickfic)

The Ol' Switcheroo by AutumnHobbit

Damian takes a bullet for Tim. (One shot, angst)

Meant to be by protagonistically

Tim takes a bullet for Bruce. (One shot, angst)

Juneberries by MichaBerry

When Tim is taken, Damian has to come to terms with his own insecurities, and how he really feels towards his older 'brother'. When he does, it might be too late. (Multi, angst)

though the sun continues to stand by metropolisjournal (TKodami)

Tim in the movie universe. (Multi, angst)

The Time We've Got by DawnsEternalLight

While on an emergency Redbull run, Tim tries to talk to his adopted father. (One shot, fluff)

Take It Back Now Y'all by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)

Tim travels back in time, focusing on trying not to make too many changes. Too bad plans don't always work out too well. (Multi, AU?)

We're Not Driving (How did we get here?) by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)

Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen. (One-shot, hurt/comfort)

cards on the table by wesslan

His reality did not involve riches and inheritance, galas and mansions, or even a sunny beach in the wonderful non-extradition country of Cuba. Instead it involved a drafty and somewhat crappy apartment, and a whole lot of hustling to make ends meet. (Multi, canon-divergence)

[fairyhaos]

ᥫ᭡ // dude, i can see (through) you

vernon x gn!reader fluff, crack(?), supernatural au, non-idol au, ghosts, ft. ghost!jeonghan

3.5k+ words

warnings for: mentions of insomnia, pills

summary: when you move into your new house that seems almost too good to be true, you find yourself (not quite) face-to-face with the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

“Hey, hey, Hansol, did you hear that the family are finally leaving the house?”

“What? Already? Hyung, come on, why do you keep doing this?”

“It’s fun! I bet it was the floating pots and pans that did it. You know how much effort I put in to get those to lift up.”

“I liked these people. They had a dog!”

“Yeah, and the dog could see us. That’s a no-no.”

“Still, hyung, don’t you think we should just… try to live peacefully?”

“Ha! That’s funny. Anyways, I bet I can make the next tenant move out in just a month.”

“No. You shouldn’t do that.”

“So you don’t think I can?”

“I don’t think you should—”

“Oh, it’s on, Hansol! I'm gonna prove it to you!”

“Please don’t.”

───────────── 👻

There is something seriously, seriously wrong with your new house.

It’s nothing obviously wrong, however: on paper, it’s a perfect place. Situated in a nice town, not in an hugely overpopulated area, with various convenience stores and a park close by. Even the house is perfect: not too big, not too small, and, above all, startlingly cheap.

Everything about it is perfect. But from the first day that you move in, you realise that things are a bit… strange.

“Where the hell has my laptop gone?”

You thread your hand through your hair, exasperated. In the middle of your desk, where your laptop ought to be, there was an empty space.

You’ve always been a forgetful person, accidentally leaving your shoes in the wrong place or leaving doors open or forgetting where you put your keys, but this is getting ridiculous. Losing an entire laptop? That’s odd, even for you.

Frustrated, you open your various boxes that still contain half of your worldly possessions, wondering if you’d gone mad and somehow put it away in them instead.

When it becomes clear that your laptop has not been accidentally packed away, you straighten up, shaking your head and resigning yourself to the fact that your laptop is simply lost to the void that is your new house. Hopefully, you manage to find it again before you have to go to work in a couple of weeks.

───────────── 👻

“So, what’s it like, living by yourself?”

You huff, adjusting the phone against your ear as you crawl around on the floor, bending down to look under the sofa. “Really, really weird.”

Your friend laughs over the phone. “Weird? How?”

“Well, for starters,” you say, fishing out yet another fork that had somehow made it under your upholstery, “I think I’m being haunted.”

There’s a pause. “What?”

You don’t believe in the supernatural, or the paranormal, or anything mythical or to do with ghosts and vampires and the otherworldly. They’re all just tales, made up by idiotic people and spun into a capitalist plot by the media, creating franchise after franchise surrounding possessed dolls and muscled Hollywood men playing traumatised werewolves. It’s irritating, and most of all, it’s all fake.

Science and supernatural cannot coexist, after all.

But now, you’re beginning to question whether that’s really the case.

“—turned all my clocks forward by four hours. Four! I thought I was going insane,” you say, standing up and returning to your kitchen with the fork in your hands, after finding your cutlery drawer empty an hour earlier, despite the fact that you’d put away all your cutlery only yesterday.

You put the fork away, and then open up a cupboard to grab a glass, only to flinch and scream at what you see.

“Oh my god, Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

“This is ridiculous,” you breathe, staring up at your cupboard.

Every single row is squashed full of your soft toys.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening to me? Hello? Can you hear me?”

You blink up in extreme despair at the cupboard before shutting the door. You don’t have the energy to deal with it right now. “Yeah, I’m here,” you say, holding the phone more securely against your ear. “Listen, I might have to call you back. I still haven’t fully unpacked yet.”

“Are you okay? You screamed and then suddenly went silent.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes for a moment and then open them again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you later, alright?”

You hang up, and walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway, before pausing in your tracks, staring wide-eyed at the front door.

The front door that was wide open.

You blink.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the door begins to swing shut, before suddenly closing with a sudden bang.

You stand there for a moment longer, before shaking your head and walking up the stairs.

Whichever ghost was haunting you, they sure were weird.

───────────── 👻

“Hey, Hansol, why is this tenant not leaving?”

“I told you. You shouldn’t do this.”

“Hmm, nah. It’s okay. It’s only been a week. I can do this.”

“Should you, though?”

───────────── 👻

Hansol is, unfortunately, so dead.

Very much in the literal sense as well, because he's a ghost. Don't ask him about the logistics of that, or how it came to be, because he doesn't know. All he knows is that one day he died and the next, he opened his eyes and no one could see him. 

But he's also so dead in the figurative sense, too. Because he and his Jeonghan hyung (who was technically a year or so younger than him when he died but still insists on being called ‘hyung’ because he died around a century earlier than him, and “you ought to respect people’s deathdays, Hansol”) have been inhabiting this house for several years, now, but he’s never had a desire to be human again in all that time.

That is, until he meets you.

You’re the latest owner of this house, and you’re… well, you're interesting.

Never before has he seen someone so tolerant of Jeonghan’s schemes. In his attempt to win at a bet that he’d created by himself, Jeonghan was pulling out all the big guns on you: starting off by being a nuisance, then an irritant, then infuriating before escalating into downright chaotic, in a climax where he made all the doors open and slam repeatedly in the middle of the night.

It’s enough to make anyone want to move out. Hansol half-expected you to leave within the first five days, but instead, you clench your jaw and plaster a smile on your face and keep on going.

He thinks it’s a little curious that you’re putting on a smile, even though there’s no one to see it. Like you’re constantly always alert of people watching you, and feeling the need to put on a mask. It makes him want to be human, just for a second, to put a hand on your shoulder and ask if you’re really okay.

During the second week, however, he realises that you really aren’t okay.

“The tenant still hasn’t gone to sleep,” Jeonghan sulks, floating through your bedroom door to sit (well, hover) beside Hansol on the floor just outside. 

“You can just say Y/N,” Hansol reminds him. “What do you mean, though? All humans are meant to be asleep by now.”

“Yeah, well, ours isn’t,” Jeonghan huffs. He crosses his arms petulantly, and his translucent ghost self flickers and wobbles at the dramatic movement. “Why not?”

Hansol shrugs. “How am I meant to know?”

Before Jeonghan can say something snarky in reply, the door to your bedroom door swings open, and the two ghosts flinch and freeze up, momentarily forgetting that they're ghosts. 

They watch as you slowly trudge down the stairs, muttering annoyedly to yourself. You had a dressing gown drawn over you, and you hug it against yourself while you shuffle through your house, before walking into the kitchen.

Hansol looks at Jeonghan, and the other just shrugs, and they both decide to follow you and see what you’re up to.

Hansol peeks his head through the wall just as you pop a few pills into your mouth.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks, pushing Hansol through the wall so that he’s standing in the kitchen properly. “Are those drugs?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Hansol says, and then floats closer so he can see the writing in the bottle you’re holding. It doesn’t help, though, because the writing is all faded, like this is a bottle you’ve had for a while. “Medicine? But what for?”

Jeonghan folds his arms, sitting on the table. “Great. Our new tenant is dying.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop being mean now?” Hansol asks, coming to sit next to Jeonghan.

“I’m not mean.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not! When have I ever been mean, hm? Tell me, Hansol!”

Suddenly, there’s a clatter, and a mess of white pills spread out across the floor, under the table and throughout the entire kitchen. Both of the ghosts, pause, and when Hansol looks up, his eyes widen.

You’re looking directly at him.

No one says anything, and for a long, long moment, you continue to stare directly at Hansol, and he swallows uneasily, glancing over at Jeonghan. The other ghost is just sitting there, too, but he’s looking at you with interest, eyes flicking between you and Hansol.

“It’s… it’s not me, right?” Hansol says hesitantly. “Surely our tenant isn’t seeing me.”

“Try moving,” Jeonghan says, and directs his gaze back to you. There’s not a trace of wariness in his eyes, and Hansol feels more confused than ever. Jeonghan was the one who said that the last family ought to be kicked out because their dog could see them.

Nevertheless, arguing with Jeonghan wastes fifteen years of Hansol’s (undead) lifetime every time, so he does as he’s told, hopping off from the table and almost falls on his face when your eyes track his movements as he does so.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. Hansol’s beginning to feel a bit panicky now. “Dude, I can see through you.”

And then your eyes glaze over and you crumple into a heap on the floor.

───────────── 👻

“Y/N can see us,” Hansol says, pacing frantically. “Hyung, we’re doomed! We’re—we’re gonna get exorcised and go to Hell and have to meet the Devil!”

Jeonghan just hums, looking down at your sleeping form. “I don’t think so.”

After you had fainted, the two ghosts had (very painstakingly) carried you back up the stairs and back into bed. It takes a huge amount of effort for ghosts to be able to make themselves felt in the living plane, and Hansol had been gasping from the effort for a solid hour afterwards.

Now, though, the exhaustion has worn off, and he’s currently making Jeonghan mildly dizzy with all his pacing.

“Hyung.” Hansol whirls around again to face Jeonghan, making the elder ghost raise his eyebrows. “You know what this means, right? This tenant is unwell. You’re not allowed to play your tricks anymore.”

That makes Jeonghan pause. He bites his thumb, then, thinking, before nodding his head. “Fine. I don’t like tormenting the sick, anyways. It hurts to think about.”

Hansol sighs at that, mouth twisting in sympathy. He pats Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Don’t think about it. You’ve been dead for ages, hyung. I’m surprised your memory is still intact.”

Jeonghan scowls, pinching Hansol’s side, making the younger ghost yelp and then laugh. “Hey! We’re basically the same age.”

“Give or take around a hundred years.”

“Yeah, barely anything!”

The two ghosts continue bickering, their voices absorbed into the nothingness that was the plane of the dead. 

In your bed, you turn your head towards the direction of warped voices, squinting at the faint outlines that you can see near the window.

───────────── 👻

“—really handsome dude, oh my god,” you’re saying while you sort through your papers. Your laptop still hasn’t turned up. “Is there any side effect of taking sleeping pills again after a long time of not using them that, like, causes hallucinations of hot guys?”

Over the phone, your friend laughs. “I guess living by yourself really is making you go insane, huh?”

“I’m not insane,” you insist, chuckling. “It sounds insane, but I swear, he was so…” You hide your face behind your hand, despite the fact that no one can see you. 

“That gorgeous, huh?” comes the response from the other end of the line, and you get the distinct feeling that your friend doesn’t really believe you. You take your hand away from your face, trying to rub away the blush on your cheeks.

“Yeah, actually, he was! Anyway, I gotta go. I still haven’t found my laptop, and doing all my work by hand isn’t going well.”

“Go to the library and use a computer there.”

You pause. “Oh. Good idea. I’ll do that tomorrow. Goodnight, I gotta go now.”

There’s a laugh on the other end. “Okay. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The two ghosts sit on your bed, watching you as you hang up the phone and go back to your work.

“So,” Jeonghan says, and his tone is light and teasing, “Y/N thinks you’re pretty gorgeous, huh? I guess you really were seen, after all.” He nods his head in your direction. “Our new tenant is definitely really interesting.”

Silence falls again, and Hansol watches you agonise over your sheets, one hand permanently buried in your hair.

“Hyung,” he says after a moment, “You should give Y/N the laptop back.”

───────────── 👻

“Stupid goddamn insomnia,” you mutter to yourself, trudging down the stairs yet again. “Why can’t I go to sleep?”

You’ve been in your new house for just over two weeks, now, and things are… normal. After the initial weird things happening during the first several days, everything seems to have settled down, almost like the house had gotten used to its new owner. It makes you laugh, every time you think of it in that way, but there’s no other way to explain how the sudden door slammings have stopped, and all your things seem to be exactly where you left them.

And even the other day, you’d found your laptop again.

Everything was going well.

A flash of big, translucent brown eyes flash across your vision, and you shake your head, trying to dispel the memory.

You despise taking your pills, hate them for how drowsy they make you throughout the rest of the day, but just over a week into moving in, you’d caved and succumbed to their awful numbness. Your insomnia had flared up, almost, as if panicked by the new environment, leaving you unable to sleep for several days.

Strangely, though, after you’d had that… vision, you’d been able to sleep easier for a while. 

Large, surprised eyes flood your memory again, and you frown, scrunching your eyes and attempting to get rid of it.

That boy hadn’t appeared in your vision again after that night, and you’ve reluctantly convinced yourself that it had just been a side effect of the sleeping pills and your own lack of sleep. Hallucinations weren’t uncommon with strong sleeping pills, after all.

You finish downing your pills, drinking the entire mug of water for good measure, before wiping your mouth and setting the mug down on the counter. 

Groggily, you rub your eyes and attempt to head out of the kitchen, stumbling a little as you go. Just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean you aren’t tired, after all. It’s just your stupid body not allowing you to fall asleep.

Abruptly, your foot catches against your other ankle, and you slam into the doorframe with a cry of pain. Eyes still bleary, you move jerkily only to feel yourself keeling over backwards, falling faster and faster towards the floor, and then—

A pair of arms catch you, and you fall back against a sturdy chest that stumbles, just slightly, under your weight, before gaining control and slowly lowering you to the floor, still in their embrace, head in their lap.

Your head is spinning, vision blurry, but as you look up, the sight that stares back at you is as clear as day.

Big, brown, translucent eyes.

Your own eyes widen in shock, and the pair of eyes staring into yours widen too.

“Oh my god,” you say. “How did you get into my house?”

The boy above you opens and closes his mouth wordlessly. “Um… I live here?”

“Like hell you do,” you return. Before you can say anything else, however, the feeling of his arms disappears and you drop the last few inches onto the floor, back making contact with the hard wood. You yelp in pain, and he cringes apologetically.

“Sorry! Sorry. Uh, it’s hard to make myself tangible for long. I didn’t meant to do that. Sorry.”

You sit up, rubbing your back. “Wait, what do you mean? Are you not…”

Another boy steps into your vision. No—he floats, feet constantly millimeters from the ground. He bends down over the boy sitting on the floor next to you, looking down at you with interest. “I’m surprised that you’ve managed to make yourself visible to our tenant for so long, Hansol.”

You blink, lost. “Hey, I can see you too, you know.”

The new boy looks bewildered at that. “You can?” Then his eyes widen. “And you can hear me?”

“You’re talking, aren’t you?” You narrow your eyes. “Is this some prank? Halloween is right around the corner, after all. Are you playing with me?”

“No, no!” The boy who caught you shakes his head frantically. “No, we’d never. Well, Jeonghan hyung might, but I wouldn’t.” He pauses, and then smiles hesitantly, standing up. “Um… we’re ghosts?”

You don’t say anything for a long moment. And then you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Prove it.”

“Please don't pani—what?”

“Prove it,” you say, and then shrug. “I gotta make sure that you’re really ghosts, you know? How do I know that you’re what you say you are?”

The other ghost, Jeonghan, raises an eyebrow. “Why would we lie to you?”

“I dunno. You’re bored?”

Jeonghan thinks about it for a moment, before nodding. “Fair point.” And then, abruptly, he walks up to you, and you expect him to stop right before you, but to your surprise, he carries on going and walks right through you instead.

“Jesus!” you shiver, a horrible coldness running down your spine. “Don’t do that!”

Jeonghan just beams. “Do you believe us now?”

You look back at Hansol, thinking. If you tilt your head just slightly, he flickers out of focus, like a mirage. But when you look at him in just the right angle, he looks as present as any human, only a little less so. Like he’s almost here, but not quite.

After a second, you nod your head. “I suppose you really are ghosts,” you say, and there’s just enough awe in your voice to make Hansol’s eyes widen in confusion.

“You’re… not going to run away?”

“Are you kidding? This is so cool,” you say, clasping your hands together. You grin. “It was getting lonely here anyway. And besides, you’re also really pretty.” Your eyes widen at your own words, and you backtrack. “Uh, pretty cool. That’s what I meant. Ghosts are cool, you know?”

Jeonghan laughs. “Hansol already knows that you think he’s gorgeous. We heard you.”

Instantly, a flush surges up into your cheeks, and Hansol rubs at his nose, embarrassed, before punching Jeonghan in the shoulder. He doesn’t deny it, though, which makes you feel kind of really flustered, but there’s a shy smile on his face as he looks at you.

“I think you’re also really pretty, too,” he says, and goddamnit, a ghost shouldn’t have the power to make you blush like this.

Jeonghan is about to say something, but then gets interrupted when, abruptly, a yawn wracks your frame and you cover your mouth, face scrunching up.

“Well, I think I need to head to bed,” you say, rubbing at your eyes. “Think I’m finally getting tired.”

That makes Hansol almost wilt in disappointment, and it’s such a cute sight that you almost reach over to ruffle his hair. Which is weird. Because he’s a ghost, and also because you hardly know him, but there’s something just so endearing about Hansol that makes you feel like you want to know him forever and ever.

Slowly, you make your way back upstairs, the ghosts trailing after you.

“I’m going to pester you both with questions tomorrow,” you inform them as you get into bed. “Like, about how I’m able to see ghosts and why I can hear you and how long you’ve both been here. I really will.”

Jeonghan laughs. “We look forward to it. It’s been a while since we’ve had someone other than each other to talk to. I think we’ll both like your company.” He nudges Hansol in the side, smile turning devious. “Hansol even more so than me.”

Hansol groans, covering his face, and you just smile, too drowsy to think of what that means at the moment.

“Leave my room before I go to sleep,” you say, as your eyelids close. “I heard you talking in my room a few nights ago, you know. You should know it’s not good to spy on people in their sleep.”

Jeonghan might reply with something, but you’re not entirely sure. Sleep is already pulling you under, pulling you far away from the state of being awake.

The last thing you recall is a cool pressure against your forehead, and a warm voice whispering your name.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @aaniag @amxlia-stars

[chaifootsteps]

VIv´s lack of undestanding of addictions is honeslty quite concerning. We can see this clear as day in the character of Husk

Husk is someone with a gambling addiction, one that got so bad that he lost his overlord position to Alastor. But apart from that, the show doesn´t really go into how debilitating and scary having an addiction like that can be.

Wanting to chase the rush of winning even when you don´t have anything to bet with. Running quickly out of money and getting into serious debts, living in constant poverty. Aliniating family members and friends since you only ask for money everytime you see them.

Not facing that you have problem... You are just having fun! You are not addicted!

You can write something decent with this denial, if you know how to play your cards right.

Like Imagine Charlie having to shoo away debt collectors becuase Husk went on a gambling spree without having any money... again. he having to hide in his room for months on end becuase he owed pretty pissed of powerful sinners

Valuable objects going missing in the hotel becuase more high-end casinos wouldn't let him in without a colateral. Together with some valuable personal items.

Husk always has a excuse, or denies taking them or promise to pay it forward when his luck changes.

One day he decides to take one of Angel´s gold collars to go into a high end casino

He is definately not happy about.

A scene similar to the one in loser plays out, but this time, it is Angel the one going into rampage trying to find Husk and get his priceless jewerly back. Only to end up saving him from some shark loans who are about to beat his ass.

They both end up in a pretty bad shape and escape out of pure luck. Angel hasn´t fired a gun since he started working for Valentino ( he doesn't allow him) and Husk's diet of beer and greasy meat doesn't allow him to move very well. So lets just leave it that when Charlie saw them again, she left everyting to attend their wounds

It was there, when Charlie told Angel that one of his arms was broken That he finally said it.

"S0.... I think I may have a gambling problem"

" Ohhh you think?!"

You know how that Anon from yesterday gets to keep Niffty because they're clearly more qualified to write her? Congratulations, you get Husk. Here's your thing to carry him home in.

Also, when episode four aired I kept waiting, cautiously hoping they would do something with Husk's backstory and the horrors of gambling addiction, but it never manifested because it's Viv and of course it didn't. Even five minutes of scrolling a casino worker horror story thread on Reddit or something would have gone such a long way.