#idk if I want to ramble or write a fic but my mind is being consumed

[blizzardfluffykpop]

alright~ a few updates about everything! so this weekend I'll be seeing changkyun in chicago- so I prolly won't be posting until after I'm alive again from that 😂😅 (I am vv excited about it- I just know I'll be vv tired when I return home). Anyways, I have a few fics in the works~ one of them that is a request 🤭 I'm vv excited to work on them! But I think I'm going to change my masterlist a bit when I come back. I'm going to retire a few groups from the main masterlist and I've been debating for the past year about it... But I think I'm going to add a yearly masterlist- So it would go from most recent to the beginning of this year~

I'm also thinking about changing my pfp- I haven't been really into stray kids for uh... years- But I will be sure to make an update about that if I go thru with that too- (It may be ji changmin next 🫣🤭)

Anyways those are my few updates 🥰💖

[science-lings]

Woke up in a cold sweat thinking about the Wrights

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

it's really funny rereading the early chapters of s-class heroine because ailette calls tesilid all sorts of names and it's such a far cry from her round 17 attitude

[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[fev3rish]

so um, can we get some kenji Sato x Baseball reader? something like enemies to lovers, where Kenji is jealous of the reader for being one of the best baseball players in the women's league in Japan? to the point where some people say the reader is better than Kenji at the game? (or something like that idk loll) (I'm NOT good at english, I'm sorry if there are any mistakes or something like that)

PUZZLE PIECES. kenji sato x reader

you truly held no ill intent—you just couldn’t stand him sometimes—and maybe there was potential between the two of you. not chemistry. potential. potential to be friends. not anything else. you wouldn’t mind if anything else came to be, though.

cw. i decided to combine these two requests because it would be easy to fit them into a story. rivals -> friends -> lovers, reader is shown to be kind of nonchalant, drunk confession, frequent and unpredictable perspective switches, gn!reader, reader’s ex is desperate, kenji and reader banter for half the story. if i wrote it in full, it would be too long to share to tumblr but too targetted to share anywhere else, so it’s only 4.5k words, weird pacing of the story, there are sprinkles and references to my previous drabbles with kenji, all around a rollercoaster, i wrote this in a day so i apologize if it’s wonky as hell, unproofreaded, lowercase intended, rivalry is kind of one sided because reader is written to have a sort of muted admiration of kenji

notes. i’m not as confident with this story as i am for my other ones :( i usually write mini fics, but this is a full fledged one shot and i am very critical of my one shots. i hope i don’t disappoint ! thank you all for enjoying my work :)

you remember him more than anyone. kenji sato, baseball star, highschool heartthrob with a heart of stone. you remember how arrogant he was too. you hate to admit it, but you understood why. you wanted to be as skilled as he was, and he didn’t believe you could be anything else but a water runner—something he said. to your face, too. you didn’t find it in yourself to hate him, infact—you were his biggest admirer then.

even now, you are. just subtly. he is the first name that comes up on your feed, and the last thought that leaves your mind when you finally go to bed. you smile, lazily, as you scroll through your phone and see his latest win. you want to dislike him, but you can’t; so you pretend. you filter it. it’s an act that comes down whenever you are in the comfort of your own home; where you can freely adore him.

he’s still so fucking cool.

kenji sunk into his beloved couch, exhausted after yet another game. he threw his head back, staring at the ceiling, relishing in the afterglow of victory. “hey mina!” he called, a cocky grin on his face as the a.i. assistant glided over to him. “yes ken?” she asks, knowing that he’s probably up to something but giving in anyway. “who can outmatch the greatest living player?!” he boomed, his voice bouncing off the walls as he flat-out refused to get off his high.

mina, tonight, decided to have fun. so, with a quick skim of the internet, and a particularly informative article—she pulled up a face on a projected screen, and replied with an answer he didn’t expect. a name. kenji’s smile left as quick as the light in his eyes did. “what? no way!” he laughed it off, but the faraway look in his eye said it all. it got under his skin. what did you have that he didn’t? that made you better than him? what was your batting average? how many stolen bases did you have? how can he schedule a ‘friendly��� game between your team and his?

how can he win?

“no way, mina.” he scoffed, trying to collect himself—the afterglow leaving him for a dullness he couldn’t explain. “there’s no way i just won one of the biggest games of my life and they’re just there, and the public’s eating them all up and calling them better of a player than i am. what makes them a better player than me?” his arrogant rambling leaves a bitter taste in his mouth—and kenji steps back a bit, actually recollecting himself because he knows better than this. he knows better than to let his emotions get in the way; atleast now. mina’s spinning around in circles, the bot observing kenji’s improvement. if she could, she’d smile. but she can’t, so she speaks to him as if she were smiling. “they cooperate well with their teammates.” she states, simply.

kenji pulls at his hair.

you stare in utter disbelief as the crowd cheers your name, wondering how exactly you got this far. you couldn’t even hold a bat properly once, and now, a couple years later, you run the bases after yet another home run. you’ve been carrying your team, but they’ve been the ones ordering you around because if you’re being honest, you genuinely have no idea what you’re doing. what are you even doing? how have you gotten this far? well, you know the answer—amazing teammates, good eye-to-hand coordination, and most importantly, luck.

kenji sits in the stands, mouth parted as he watches you run. you improved, he can tell, and he hates that he’s proud. the only luck he’s been given is that he’s disguised. his sunglasses don’t show his disdain (is it truly disdain? he wants it to be. he ignores that he’s amazed.) and his facemask, in response to how gagged he was, just wrinkled a bit. “you’re shitting me…” he thinks aloud, watching as you celebrated with your team; another win to cross off.

he tries to leave discreetly, he really does—but you make eye contact with him. he goes rigid. you walk over, bidding farewell to the rest of your group as you approach him. you look up at kenji, and something in you just knows. but you want to pretend, you have to pretend; and it wasn’t your fault if you wanted to have a little fun, too. you put up a sweet, sweet smile—

“are you a fan?” you ask, “would you like my autograph?” you ask again, and he sucks in a breath. no one is here, not anyone that matters atleast— everyone’s skittering out of the dome and suddenly kenji is, too. he wants to walk pass you, but in fairness, he was provoked first. “no, actually.” he replies, coolly, and there’s this glint in your eye that has maggots forming in kenji’s stomach, eating away at his insides—or perhaps, they’re butterflies. kenji doesn’t want to think about it. he just wants to think about you. “you win a couple games and suddenly you think you’re the star of the show?” he tilts his head, walking closer to you. his sunglasses are taken off, and now he’s really looking down on you. you, who only shrugs. “i mean, maybe.” you say. “i definitely outshine you though, don’t i?” you retort and he hisses. the scene is reminiscent of two cats, circling eachother as they bare their fangs. “wow, and here i was,” kenji dramatically began, “about to apologize to you for all that shit in highschool!” he continued, and he was about to open his mouth again before you intervened. “oh, you mean where you peaked?”

“excuse me?” said through grit teeth. “highschool?” you chirped, “where you peaked?” “oh, excuse me.” he gasped, taken aback. you snickered, and he sneered. “you’re the worst.“ he leaned in close, eager to get that through your head—eager to get under your skin as much as you got under his, but you only blinked up at him with a slight blush on your face.

“are we about to kiss right now?” you raise an eyebrow promiscuously, and kenji almost claws at you before he clasps his hand together. he stays like that. you take a second to realize he’s doing breathing exercises. “why the fuck is he doing breathing exercises?”

it slips out. it genuinely, truthfully just slips out—you think out loud and kenji sato, the man of japan himself, literally goes red in the face. he turns to you, then turns around and walks away.

even when he’s all red and embarrassed, he is still so freakishly cool.

it seems all kenji wants to do is one up you, and all you really want to do is go to dinner with him. it’s embarrassing, the hardened glare he sends you when he sees you in the stands, ready to watch his games. you want him so bad and he thinks you take joy in his displeasure, and you know that this is such a stupid misunderstanding but it’s… well, it’s fun. and you haven’t had any opportunities to even try and talk to him, because he always gives you sass. how could a man have that much sass? even you don’t know, and you like to think you know everything. you know that kenji’s cute as hell, and that you want him really bad, and that’s all that you need to know. ever.

meanwhile, kenji is irritated at the mention of you—and he makes it known with a scrunch of his nose and a frown on his lips. when you walk into the room, he rolls his eyes. when you run your hands through your hair, you swear you see his gaze linger but you don’t know if it’s truly a gaze, or a glare. you want to speak to him, but with the way he holds his bat like it’s a weapon around you makes it seem like he wants to spar. you do not want to spar. it’s the same as always, today—another game won by the giants, another game you attended, and another game kenji had a harder time locking in on.

you try and try and you keep on trying—actually, you don’t plan on stopping. kenji sees you as an enemy, but all you see in him is a potential husband. he can’t be that bad, right? not as bad as your last one. no one can be as bad as your last one, and it irks you just thinking about him. you don’t even want to call him an ex of yours, because he was never truly yours in the first place.

no, he wasn’t. four months down the drain just like that, because he couldn’t keep it in his pants when a pretty girl asked him to dance.

what a shame.

you had a visceral reaction to your own mind, and your face soured before you even felt it. kenji saw that, and his eyes darkened. “you have a problem with how i play today?” he was up in your face before you knew, his face as sour as yours. you jump back. “why do you care if i do?” you bring up, “you wanna impress me?”

“to hell with impressing you.” “to hell with you.” “oh, you’re the worst.” “is that all you can say?” “if i said all i could, you’d sue me.” “no, i wouldn’t care enough. my parents raised me better.” “so did mine.”

you bite your tongue, then. you’re silent as he looks at you, and under his scrutiny, you shrink. the smirk on his face is smug and insufferable, as expected of someone so hellbent on one upping you.

“hey now, why so quiet?” there he is again, getting all up in your face and rubbing his seven seconds of victory to you. “cat got your tongue?”

“precisely. that’s the first thing we’ve agreed on.” “no, it isn’t.” “yes, it is.” “no, it isn’t.” “no, it isn’t.” “yes it is—hey!” kenji caught himself, or tried to, but it was already way too late. “hah! you’re a complete ditz—“ you exclaimed, before kenji shushed you with a light punch.

“i’ll have you know that we have an exhibition game tomorrow and i plan on destroying you.” he talks big, but the chances of him serving up a win is small. you have to thank kenji for making you more confident in your skills, because of just how butthurt he is over you. he’s waited long for this moment; to finally be able to face off against you—show the people who the top dog truly is—and now he has it.

and he won’t disappoint.

the game ended abruptly due to a kaiju targetting the dome it was set in, and you couldn’t help but notice kenji’s panic in the corner of your eye. you couldn’t blame him, you were scared out of your mind too—but then he didn’t run towards the exit, he ran towards you. “watch out!” he called, and you looked up and froze.

debris was coming down on you, and fast.

when you looked down in a panic, trying to see where to go—ken was no where to be found, and from behind you, the famous ultraman made his appearance. he greeted you, albeit a bit… sassy. a familiar kind, one that you seemed to recognize—you just couldn’t put your finger on it.

“bro, can you get moving—i mean— cease this.. dawdling! faithful citizen, leave at once or you might get hurt!” he boomed, his voice echoing the same way a certain other person’s did. he held the debris that was going to crush you in a single hand, and you could only gawk.

who were you to deny ultraman?

after that encounter, you didn’t see each other for a while. it admittedly made you a bit sad, you truly held no ill intent—you just couldn’t stand him sometimes— and maybe there was potential between the two of you. not chemistry. potential. potential to be friends. not anything else.

you wouldn’t mind if anything else came to be, though.

tonight, you had decided to treat yourself; a night at tonkatsu tonki would do for sure. you placed an order and sat tight, bundled up in one of the comfy booths in the corner as you scrolled through your phone. it did do, so far! you felt your muscles loosen and your jaw unclench with each smile sent your way. for once, you felt yourself relax—then you heard someone call out your name. someone you couldn’t forget. not yet, atleast—the wound was still healing. you refused to pick at it even further. you looked up and—“oh fuck.”

“what are you doing here?” your most recent mistake asks. he tries to get close to you, to sit in your booth and disturb your peace—but you stand up before he does. “why do you care?”

“because this was our spot.” he replies, “we came here for our three month anniversar—“ he tries to continue but you’re so tired. you stop him with a raise of your hand, “this was not where we went. you’d have known if you paid attention to me while we were together.” your response is curt, and you see hurt flash in his eyes—similar to the way it flashed in yours whenever he pulled the same bullshit he promised not to pull. “listen, i’m sorry—“ you ignore him the same way he did when you tried to speak. you turn, going back to your booth but he pulls you by the wrist and you realize that he doesn’t want to say sorry.

rather, he wants to show he’s sorry. or maybe that’s not the case either—maybe he wants to make you sorry.

regardless, you yank your hand away and stomp on his foot—he curses. you’re lucky the restaurant’s nearing closing time, otherwise you’d have more of an audience and therefore more of a PR nightmare. he raises his hand, and you raise your own to block what you know will be a hit—but nothing comes. well, no one except kenji. he has his hand on your ex’s wrist, as he squeezes it tight—enough to bruise.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his face is scrunched up in anger, and you sigh in relief. “none of your fucking business.” your ex replies—he tries to act tough, but his voice cracks and you know he’s scared. kenji takes the chance to get a good look at him, and he cracks up. “you… you play for the tigers, don’t you? we decimated you. had your team’s heads on the ground from how embarrassed they were last time we played; you wanna take another defeat?” he snickers. your mouth drops in awe of the sudden juicy drama unfolding, and also partially because kenji is really, really handsome.

the restaurant’s emptied out by now, and you three are only accompanied by the employees—who are reluctantly waiting for the two men to settle their little scuffle. you watch as your ex tries to struggle against him, tries to run off, and the only thought in your mind is: what did i ever see in him?

“let me go!” he yells, “let them go, first.”

your ex looks between him and you, who only calls a waiter over to order a drink. two drinks, to be exact. he stomps out of the restaurant right after. kenji is about to leave, as well, but tonkatsu tonki closes in thirty minutes—and you have a drink and a free seat. he can’t resist. he slides into your booth with an undeniable swagger, relishing in yet another victory as you smile kindly. “you didn’t have to do all that.” you start, sheepishly—he just takes a sip of the drink you ordered him. “yeah, well, i did. what about it?” you raise your hands in mock surrender, and he lets out a lighthearted laugh. “thank you, then. thank you for doing all that.”

“don’t get used to it.” he points, and this time—you laugh. you ask him about his day, and suddenly thirty minutes feels like forever. by the time you two get kicked out of the restaurant, he has your number unblocked and a promise to be annoyed every single day that a part of him hopes you’ll keep.

there was a spark, then, and it lit up so evidently between the two of you. a piece of eachother, found in each other. it was an epiphany to kenji, and an honor for you. you fit together like puzzle pieces, and yet you didn’t even realize it because you were both so intent on making the wrong parts of yourself fit, when they didn’t.

eventually, unblocked numbers turned to frequent messages, and frequent messages turned to inside jokes—inside jokes became personal hangouts. kenji sato found himself a part of your life, and he ended up loving it. your bickering became friendly, and lighthearted bullying was always a welcome notion— he made it a point to beat your ass at baseball as often as he could, but he always took you out to drink, on him. if he won. if he didn’t, you’d be the one treating him. it was a win-win situation for the both of you, even though one of you lost.

eventually, feelings blossomed.

kenji’s smiles made you smile, and he started buying things because those things reminded him of you; his heart beat a little faster as you walked over to greet him, and your cheeks burned whenever he winked at the screen during games. eventually, that friendly banter became more… flirty. you were toeing the line between friends and lovers.

you loved it.

kenji snaked an arm around your shoulder as you sat, thigh pressed against thigh, your head leaning on his bicep. you were at another bar, and ken was in another world. it was no surprise to you that he was a light weight, and with several swigs of his second bottle—he had been reduced to a blabbing baby of a man. a blabbing baby of a man who was getting suspiciously close to you—too close to just be platonic affection. you wonder if he’ll remember this the next day. you hope he doesn’t, with all the nonsense he’s spouting about being ultraman and how saving the city from kaiju is his ultimate duty. it’s going to be embarrassing, especially since it’s in such a public setting.

you take an uber to your house; he’ll have to deal with it if he wants to save his career after all. it’s a complete pain in the ass to haul his ass to the cab, but the way his hair frames his face just right—reddened face still handsome as he glances down at you, you just accept that some men are born as apologies for the existence of the entire male gender.

the entire car ride is full of the uber driver trying not to laugh as you struggle against kenji, who wants to sleep on your lap but can’t because the car is too small. the driver bursts into laughter as kenji starts crying, and you pull out your phone.

it can not be this hard to take care of a drunk man.

kenji is laying on the cold tile of your floor, tapping at the air because he thinks it’s an ipad and you have to resist the urge to just leave him to his own devices. you know damn well he won’t let you, anyway. he’s had his hand wrapped around your ankle for the past two minutes. “kenji.” you start, “let go.”

“erm… no.” “kenji.” “i love it when you say my name.” he says, amidst an abundance of giggles. you’re being pulled down onto the floor with him, and there’s remnants of that one strawberry cocktail he had before shit really hit the fan in his breath. “say my name again.” he asks, and you say it again—not knowing it’ll unleash a conversation you never knew you wanted—needed—to have.

“kenji.” you say his name again, for the third time, your face heating up as he buries his face into your stomach, inhaling your scent. “you’re perfect.” he says, slurring over his words and you freeze. “didn’t know that was something you’d ever say to me. usually, you’d be focused on strategizing how to keep beating me at baseball.” you mutter, softly—and a part of you finds humor in the situation. you want to, atleast. you find no humor, but you do find hope—for what, you don’t know.

“i find myself focusing on you more, hehe—“ you bite your lip. you muffle out his laughs. he’s just drunk. “you know, i’m better than him.” he’s just drunk. “i don’t see why you haven’t just thrown me over your shoulder yet,” he pauses, to let out yet another intoxicated laugh. “if you gave me a chance, i’d prove it too.” he hiccups.

you’re on your tiled floor, laying down with a six foot tall man and he’s confessing his love to you in drunk rambles. he’s promising he’s better than all your exes. he would be.

how did you get here again? why don’t you want to leave?

“bro, i want you so bad….”

ah, that’s why. you turn to face him, and he’s already looking at you. his eyes are glazed over with love so strong you know he’s been hiding it for too long, and you decide maybe it won’t be too bad just laying here. “…how long?” you inquire. his eyes sparkle, “since you ordered me that drink at tonkatsu tonki.”

“that’s a long time.” “i have a hard time communicating how much i truly value a person.” “i can see that.” “i can see you.” “and what do you think?” your lip quirks up, and he grins. “you’re perfect.” his hands find themselves on your waist, and you want to pull back—but he pulls you in faster, not into a kiss, but into a hug. “i’d treat you so good.” he starts again. “better than any one of your miserable exes. i’d take you out on dates weekly, and we’d have movie nights bi weekly where we interchange who picks the movies, and when we go to the bar together, i’ll show you off. when i win my games, i’ll point at you.” he babbles, and you look up at him as you listen to him promise a string of temptations you can’t help but give in to. “i’d treat you so, so good. make you come over, and then come over and ov—“

“okay, i get it.” “can i get you, then?” “maybe, when you’re not drunk.” “i’m not drunk. my name is kenji.” “okay kenji.” “my last name is sato. can you get that too?” “when you’re not drunk, kenji.” “no, it’s just kenji. not drunk kenji.” “do you want to sleep here or in the guest bedroom?” you deadpan. he blinks. “here. it’s comfier.” “okay, goodnight—“ “stay with me. just this once.”

you want to reject him, but you also don’t want to. so you cave, again, to his charms. he holds you so gently, cradling the back of your head with his palm as you listen to him babble. he seems to never stop professing his love for you, and you, lowkey, aren’t complaining. you deal with his blabber until he blacks out, and you look around to see if kenji has all he needs when he wakes up. it’s a chaotic situation, and you’re seconds away from going out of your mind—but you look around as if you’re looking around a baseball field. a glass of water and the bottle of tylenol is in arms reach, his things are on the couch, and you are in his arms.

you don’t want to leave, and it makes you sick.

you wake up and you’re faced with the bare wall and raging back pain. you groan, your eyes scanning the room—kenji isn’t here anymore. you make a mental note to check your phone, later. maybe he texted. you stand up and stretch, and before you can recover, a pair of hands poke your sides. you jump away, shrieking as you’re met with a kenji who’s as equal of a mess as you are. his eyes are framed by dark circles, and his hair isn’t as immaculate as it usually is—it’s the most attractive state you’ve ever seen him in.

“hi.” is all he says, and you take deep breaths. “you’re fucking crazy.” you say, “crazy over you.”

he remembers. your eyes bulge out of your own skull, threatening to fall out at any second, and you hold onto the wall for support as you try to keep it cool. “what—what.” well played. super smooth. the swagger is evident. what time is it? it’s only eleven am and you’re humiliating yourself. you’re dazed as kenji walks over to you, his eyes never once leaving yours—you want to look down, but you can’t stop looking at him. “so…” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish. not yet, atleast. he’s always been fond of edging. he liked the control, and being controlled— “so?”

“you remember.” you gulp. “i do, yeah.” “okay, well.. what do you think?”

“i think you’re perfect.” he bites the inside of his cheek, “—and i think i could treat you better than him.”

your whole world shakes. your heart’s beating and it bruises your ribs, and that would be enough of a confession—but he continues.

“and i truly don’t see why you haven’t thrown me over your shoulder yet, because i could prove it too.” he’s restating every point he made last night and it’s killing you. your silence only makes him want to continue. “i’ll treat you so good. movies, money, gifts, dates—anything you want as long as it’s you. i’ll treat you better than any one of your miserable exes.” when he smirks, you notice that one side of his lip quirks up higher than the other; a flaw, but one he let you see. no one’s gotten this close, after all. only you.

“that is, if you’ll give me a chance.” his confidence wavers, but the sparkle in his eyes gives you all the convincing you need. “you didn’t need to do all that.” you start, the familiar words rolling off your tongue easily. his smirk becomes a smile. “yeah, well, i did. what about it?”

it’s an unspoken truth that the both of you know. he holds out his hand, and you place your smaller one on top—he inches it closer to his lips, and kisses each knuckle.

he’s all yours.

“you took a long ass time trying to confess. and you didn’t even do it sober.” you call out, and kenji cringes at his own cowardice but he defends himself anyway. “hey! i re-confessed now!”

“re-confess? what?” “i just redid my confession.” “more like re-use—“ “can i kiss you now?”

the question is so sudden, you place your free hand on your chest as you gasp. kenji cringes, again, at how direct he was—he opens his mouth to apologize, but he barely gets a word in.

when your lips find eachother, they fit together like puzzle pieces.

[vengeful-velvette]

Hey thanks for answering my ask! Yeah I agree, I think dealing with soul ownership in a body swap fic in this particular universe is a bit tricky.

How I view it is that the owner has ownership over the sinners body, but not their mind. So if Angel and Alastor swapped bodies, I imagine that Valentino is still able to force Angel's body/Alastor to do whatever, but he can't force Alastor to tell him anything he doesn't want to reveal.

He can't force Alastor to tell him a secret. But he can force Angel, who is in Alastor's body, to tell him a secret.

As for how this works if someone swapped with Valentino? I honestly I have no idea. I would assume they would still have ownership over whoever Valentino owns, but I definitely think it doesn't feel the same. It's kinda like a glitch? Idk, this is just how I personally view body swapping and soul ownership.

I know you said that you're not gonna focus on the 666 universe, which is like, extremely valid because a body swap is already pretty plot intensive, never mind adding the whole 666 dynamic into it!

But..... after I sent in this ask I couldn't quite get this idea out of my head, as it kept spiraling and spiraling as I kept thinking, "well, what if this happens...." "and what if what happens after that" "oh! That's pretty interesting, what if it happened...."

So after many "what ifs" I word vomited all of my Thoughts into my notes app. So why not share them here (maybe then the "what ifs" will stop tormenting me)

Expanding on this a little more on the idea of this body swap happening in the 666 live on air series. (With Vox and Valentino switching, and Angel and Alastor switching bodies)

I imagine that for Vox, being Valentino isn't all that difficult. In his introduction episode we see that Vox is actually really good at manipulating people and putting up an act to get what he wants (for example, when he's annoyed at Valentino but convinces him not to go to the Hotel and pick a fight with Charlie).

There's also the fact that Vox knows Valentino rather well, so I bet he knows all his little mannerisms and how to act like him. I bet he also knows what a typical day shoot looks like, as Valentino talks about them enough for Vox to pick up the basics, and Vox is so plugged into the internet that he must know what's popular in the porn industry at any given time.

Plus I could see Vox viewing it as a good opportunity to improve Valentino's image. Val is so difficult to control on a normal day, but now making sure that Val acts "perfect" is eaiser than ever.

That's not to say that I think this whole situation isn't stressing Vox out, it definitely is. It's one thing for him to be controlling Valentino's body, but another one entirely for Valentino to be controlling his. Now he has to work double time making sure that he appears the same as Valentino, while also making sure Val isn't fucking up Voxtek.

(Not to mention that Valentino is fucking blind and Vox has to put so much brain power into not bumping into everything)

When the day of the shoot with "Angel Dust" comes up, he thinks that Angel is lucky because for once he's going to have a "Valentino" that's too busy to get involved in the scene. As he picked out a random scene list from the pile and is half distracted with texting Val instructions on what to do regarding Voxtek to really pay him much attention.

Now switching over to Alastor and Angel's side; tbh I don't have as many thoughts on the two's thought process, or how exactly they handle the whole "Valentino owns Angel's soul, but Alastor is in his body so while technically he doesn't own Alastor, he can puppet the body he's currently inhabiting".

But I imagine that Angel will insist on tagging along with Alastor to a shoot. (If Angel is actually like, contractually forced to attend shoots, because I can totally see the two of them faking an accident or something to get Alastor out of it until the gang figures out a way to reverse the body swap)

But for now the two worlds intersect as "Angel" and "Alastor" are in the studio with "Valentino".

Vox has literally no idea why Alastor is here, and while a part of him is always pleased to see him (or, the vague shape that he sees of Alastor through Val's eyes), he knows that Valentino wouldn't be impressed to see him and tries to shoo him out the door and get the shoot underway so he can get back to running two businesses at once.

Something, something, Vox finally clues in that Angel and Alastor has switched bodies

(which is really a combination of factors: "Angel" being weirdly hesitant to start the scene, and acting in a way that's weirdly familiar, while "Alastor" acting totally foreign.

With the tipping point being that the weird way the soul contract is feeling, since "he" technically owns Angel's soul, that's not currently in his body but Alastor's, and him also owning Angel's body, which doesn't have his soul in it. Idk, I just imagine that the body swap reacts weirdly with body swaps. Plus there's the fact that he also swapped bodies with Valentino, so he's more inclined to automatically believe a body swap.)

And this is when the real panic sets in for Vox because he knows that "Angel" (Alastor) can't actually perform the shoot because he knows that Alastor wouldn't be comfortable with that and he's actually starting to care about Alastor, while also being acutely aware that they're in "public", or at least, in company who will absolutely take out their phones and record the trio if they start acting off.

So Vox very much wants to grab Angel/Alastor and shove him into an empty room and ask what the fuck is going on, but both Angel and Alastor aren't really comfortable with the idea of "Valentino" taking "Angel" into a private room, especially when he seems agitated.

So there's this rising point of tension where Vox really just wants to talk to "Angel" in private, and the actual Angel is starting to get really stressed that Valentino is getting more and more angry because he knows what Val is like when he's angry. But he doesn't want Alastor alone with him, while also wanting to do what "Valentino" is saying to hopefully calm him down.

And Alastor, who doesn't want to be alone with "Valentino" because he knows, or can take a pretty good guess, of what's going to happen behind closed doors (which is wrong because he hasn't put together the pieces that Vox is in Valentino's body), and is going against "Valentino" because he's pissing him off.

I can also see Alastor thinking "well, I do kinky stuff with Vox, what's so different this time? It's not like people know it's me" and thus is trying to start the shoot because he believes that it's "safer" (he also wants to piss off Valentino by not listening to him, and he's once again bitting off more than he can chew with his hubris on full display).

While both Vox and Angel really don't want Alastor to start the shoot because they know what actually goes on during one, and can guess that Alastor won't be comfortable, and wouldn't really have a way to stop it without seeming "out of character".

And Vox really just wants to talk to Alastor in private, because people are starting to whisper and he can see hands going towards phones. So a part of him wants to use the stupid contract to get Alastor alone, but he also knows that Alastor would hate that and that could destroy the relationship they've been carefully building up.

So in the middle of all of this rising tension, Vox eventually is just like "fuck it!" And physically grabs both Angel and Alastor and shoves them into a empty dressing room. And is like "hey what the fuck are you doing?!" And explains the whole body swap fiasco on his side.

I'm not quite sure how the rest of the scene goes. But I definitely think the tension breaks once everything is explained. With Vox possibly playing up roughing up "Angel" behind the closed door and stating that he "sent the whore home" or something to get Alastor out of the shoot.

Anyway, this was really supposed to be a quick "hey, wouldn't that be interesting" that kinda spiraled. Idk, maybe I'll make a "inspired by" fic and actually write this fic, because obviously I have ideas, lol. If I have permission to write the fic, of course, I feel a little bad about writing something based in a fic series I didn't write.

Idk, it feels a little weird to take a dynamic (from the 666 series) and swipe it. So I'll probably just continue to rotate the Thoughts and Ideas in my head as I've been doing lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading my long rambles once again, maybe now that the thoughts have been released they will finally let me be Free lol.

Ohhh I love a good body swap!

I love how there's some really good angst potential (like basically anyone swapping with Angel), and also comedy (Alastor and Vox, the Vees, etc).

I also like to imagine that there's multiple body swaps going around at once, just because I think it would be even more chaotic. Like, for example, maybe Alastor and Angel Dust swap, and the Vees also swap. I initially thought it would be really funny if Valentino and Vox swapped, because then there's the interesting dynamic of Vox technically having ownership of "Alastor's' soul (or the very least, the body Alastor is currently inhabiting).

Also, this could go two very directions. If this is in the 66.6 universe, then it has the option of ending more humorous as Vox clues into the situation as he's trying to act like Valentino and is internally like "SHIT SHIT SHIT" because on one hand he doesn't want to absolutely nuke the relationship they've barely built from obit, but Keeping Up Appearances in front of People is also very important to him.

This is doubly funny if Alastor hasn't quite put all the pieces together yet, and doesn't know it's Vox in Valentino's body, and doesn't really get why "Valentino" is try to get him alone in an empty room (so Vox can yell at him and be like "what the fuck??? What the FUCK!!)

But also, there's an interesting dynamic if this isn't in the 66.6 universe and Vox just hates (while still being obsessed with) Alastor. As Vox finally, actually, has power over Alastor.

Idk, I know you're writing, or like, planning out a body swap fic, and this isn't like, a Demand to do it this way. More so a "hey, wouldn't this be Fucked up and Interesting?"

OKAY I'M FINALLY HOME AND CAN REPLY TO THIS PROPERLY!

I think the soul ownership aspect of the body swap is really interesting, because you have to really get into what headcanons you're working with for how it works. Does your soul own the other soul, or does your body own the other soul? And is a soul defined as your consciousness, or are your body and your soul unanimous since you're in hell and presumably your soul just takes the shape it does in hell as your body because you certainly weren't a 7'4" spider in real life?

Anyway, I'm definitely going non-666verse and also def going the angst route for this fic, haha, and I'm admittedly specifically avoiding involving Vox much because that'd make the whole thing like 3x more complicated and I'm trying to keep it to the three-chapter outline I have! I think you're right and that involving Vox in realizing that he has actual, genuine power over Alastor has the potential to get absolutely wild. We see him act pretty zany because he's losing it over Alastor a lot, but the moments we see him where he's not going bananas over his crush make it pretty clear that the guy is both competent and fairly ruthless. I'm sure he'd figure out a way to take major advantage!

[yooglefics]

hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv

Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!

Jealous, jealousy

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff.  Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.

Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.

It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.

Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”

Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.

But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.

Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.

He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial. 

“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”

“Yes, with ( y / n ).”

“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.” 

“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”

“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.

“For a few years now, yes.”

“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”

«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.

He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand. 

Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.

“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.

“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.

“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.

“Is a problem if I did?”

“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”

“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.

“Are you okay?”

“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.

“Jin?”

“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”

“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”

“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.

“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words. 

“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”

“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”

“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”

“What?!”

“Sorry. You and Jin.”

“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”

He buffs. “You can?”

“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”

“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.

“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”

“Okay.”

“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.

“Yes.”

“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”

“Maybe I am now.” 

“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.

“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”

You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.

“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.

What the hell is happening?

You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.

You hate those conversations. 

Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so. 

Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.

In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now. 

Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?” 

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.

“You told me to go.”

“I mean in general.”

“We work together, can't really do much about that.”

“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.

“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”

“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”

“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.

“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.

“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”

“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?” 

“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”

“She was trying to console me.”

“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.” 

“Yoongi?” 

“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.

“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”

“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”

Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.

Now both of you are mad. Great. 

Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened. 

Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—

“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night. 

“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”

“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”

“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”

“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”

“Because I'm jealous?”

“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.

“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.

“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”

“What?”

“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”

“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.

“Exactly.” 

“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”

“I know. Is dumb.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”

“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”

“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”

He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”

Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.

He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.

“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.

“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”

“People don’t do that.” 

“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”

“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.” 

His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”

“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”

“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”

“I love you more, baby.”

Protect them 🥺  Let me know what you think. comment, reblog, send an ask, follow or whatnot. Thank you for reading <3 ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @sexytholland , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @itsmina29 , @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d , @nariee02 , @ktownshizzle , @kimtaehussy . 

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[aetherdoesthings]

can i request straw hat members luffy zoro sanji nami robin with a kid like how they are around children thanks!

elo anon! ahhhh the ideas i had for this

forethoughts: excuse my absence, life is hard. also is it about time i create a masterlist for all my work? idk. also this hc request gave me an idea of a new fic i wanna write, so look out for that!

notes: fem!reader in mind, but still gn! i suppose.

Luffy

Here’s the thing. Out of the bunch, Luffy is the one you go to to have fun and get that adrenaline rush every child wants to have. But he’s also the one you spend the most time with least, because the other Straw Hats are deliberately trying to make sure you don’t spend as much time with Luffy for the sake of your safety and adulthood. It’s not the first time Luffy accidentally left you in the middle of a dangerous battle between the marines to beat some admiral up, or throwing you to the side and throwing some stuff on you and ordering you to stay still. While Luffy loves playing with you and having fun around the Sunny, yeah no Nami ain’t gonna let that happen. Luffy’ll still do anything to entertain you and make you have a fun and stressless childhood, and even if he does forget he’s babysitting sometimes and children are less durable than adults, you still love him like he’s your big brother.

Zoro

I’d imagine Zoro tolerating you and treating you like how he treats Chopper. He’d reluctantly play with you, doing whatever you want, but oftentimes he’s just asleep, and you’d have to wake him up if you wanted to play with him. But if you fall asleep on him or next to him, be sure you’re either going to wake up in his arms or in your bed snugly tucked in. He’d also be the one to randomly find you under a pile of rags and clothes on the ground after getting lost in the battlefield, and pick you up and bring you to the Sunny to safety. Everyone was of course overprotective of you, but Zoro was high up on that list. Lord have mercy on whoever tries to ask you out when you grow older. 

Sanji

Sanji would give you prince/princess treatment 100%, making you extra food each meal with all the nutrients you need to grow strong and healthy, whilst teaching you how to cook and ramble about the All Blue. He had even stopped smoking regularly for your lung’s sake, and the only time you could see him smoke was at night during his shift of watching over the Sunny. He would berate Zoro if ‘he was too rough with you’ or Luffy if ‘he was being too reckless with you’, but then proceed to roundhouse kick anyone he sees getting near you, which definitely was a good influence to your little kid mind. 

Nami

Nami was your big sister to you, always taking you out on shopping sprees, dressing you up in clothes she bought for you. You were always either with her or with Robin when the Sunny docked, as Nami bought anything you wanted to have. She’d also beat and scream the living soul out of any man or person that stares at you for far too long, giving them a good whack with her clima tact. Nami also doesn’t charge you any money or have a tax when you ask for money from her, since she’s buying everything for you willingly anyways. Every night, you, her and Robin would make a little fort in your room, and talk about the day and what you liked and didn’t. Nami was just your big sister you could go to for anything.

Robin

MOMMY ROBIN 100%. You are now her child, and she is your mother. Robin was the one who’d berate Luffy if he did something that could potentially harm you. She’d scold Sanji for smoking in front of you, Zoro if he cussed. She made sure you would have a safe and healthy environment around you as you grew up on deck, seeing that life on ship wasn’t like life on land. She would teach you academics and all that, making sure you would keep up with your academics and won’t slack. When the crew was getting loud and rowdy, she’d always keep you close to her, letting you put your hands around her shoulders as you tried to sleep under the noise, or just feel Robin’s presence next to you. At night, she’d personally tuck you in, read you a bedtime story, give you a little kiss on your forehead before leaving. Robin was, if not, the most overprotective of you amongst the rest. She saw you as a copy of herself when she was younger, and she was determined to give you the childhood she did not have.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Anyways~ the new Hyungwon X Reader fic will drop tomorrow hehe~

you will never believe how much tbz has taken over my world- I am actively finishing a new Hyungwon X Reader work- and my brain keeps going 'hehe younghoon' ... like babe- are we not working rn?...

[ambrosialdesire]

Can I request yandere porco x reader who doesn't take him seriously/ isn't afraid of him or being bratty or whatever so he transforms to scare her

hellion

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: s4 porco x fem!reader word count: 5.9k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, unhealthy relationships, past + current human-trafficking/purchase mentions, forced feminization/infantilization, stockholm syndrome development, forced proximity, torture/violence mentions (choking, starvation, drowning, tying up), drugging (sedation), prey & predator vibes, kinda psychological horror?, humiliation, slight praise, degradation, slight gaslighting, kinda mindbreaky, all characters are 18+ synopsis: you were an impulse purchase that he never thought he'd make before, and although he doesn't regret it, he's having a difficult time trying to soothe your feisty spirit. who knew that all it took was one transformation and a chase you'll never forget? a/n: i'm gonna be so fr idk how to write bratty characters LOL i rarely read bratty readers in general so i'm really free-balling this 💀 kinda simple and to the point compared to my other fics, esp since i've never wrote for porco before so this is like testing the waters and most likely SUPER ooc. it's also more of a psychological fic since i'm not in the mood of writing complete nsfw haha but i hope you enjoyed this anon! sorry it also took so long to be done but then took me like three days to make and edit 😅 (i still think it's a little sloppy, esp the end BUT that's what anon questions are for so i can sorta explain and piece it together more lol) again, hope y'all enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

He hated when you got like this, putting up a constant nonsensical fight against him.

You'd be a perfect candidate to be his successor from the way you bite down into his skin when he tried to touch you, scratching up his face when he got too close, and always almost managing to slip through his grasp to dash towards the open basement door before he tugged the chain wrapped around your throat back towards him, watching you bare your teeth at him angrily. You were truly a wild animal, that's why he chose you in the first place.

Porco wanted to tame this wild spirit of yours, simply for the fact to see if he could.

Little progress was made, he made your purchase not long ago in the slums of Liberio, where the truly wicked and evil roamed to sell and purchase anything deemed illegal by the Marleyan government. As much as he refused to take these kinds of assignments, preferring to be back on the battlefield with Zeke and Pieck, Porco was already in deep waters for fighting with Reiner again. Not his fault that the Vice Captain's face was so punchable. Thus, here he was, being forced to shut one of the operations down that was said to involve a human-trafficking ring. Down he went alone in disguise, shuffling through the disgusting sweaty bodies of devil scum drooling over a piece of fresh meat on the stage.

He remembered got a good view of the bidding, eyeing each fearful chained-up person with boredom until you were pulled up. God, you really were the star of the stage. Two burly men had to tug your fighting body onto the crumbling wooden stage, a mixed sound of what could be a snarl and screech emerging through your cracked and bruised lips as you refused to move any further. You put up a good fight against the henchmen, the crowd jeering at the display of tug-o-war.

Once they managed to get you to the middle, the auctioneer started to ramble on about your pricing. Your hands may be wrapped in cloth and tied together, but the minute he neared you to show you off, you struck him with a mean uppercut, almost pouncing on him once he fell over before the two men held you back. Even then, you were thrashing around on your wounded feet, spitting out curses and howls at the fuckers beneath you, telling them that you'd hope they'd all burn and rot in hell.

He's the only one that snorted at that statement, feeling all eyes on him.

Porco really wasn't any different from those around him as he raised his hand up, offering over a thousand for the wild girl, more than what the other fucks around him could possibly afford. It won't make a dent in his bank account either because once he takes you home, the authorities would've already been called to the place. He gets to keep his money and you, while Marley gets rid of more scum; a two in one deal. You glared down at him, a burning fire settling deep within the darks of your pupils as he grinned back in return.

You were going to be a fun little purchase, that he's sure of.

He didn't really want to, but considering that you were a snappy little thing, you had to be down in the basement of his home until he managed to get your temper under control. The chain was long enough for you to reach the bathroom down there from the bed, but not long enough to reach the door. Once you managed to slightly calm down, realizing that your new "owner" was unfazed by your act as he leaned against the wall, you cautiously settled on the bed. You were still tense, unsure of what his intentions are.

"You got a name?" Porco started, finally breaking the silence as he crossed over his arms.

"You have my papers, don't you?" Your eyes squinted at him, the raspy retort coming quick out your mouth. He did, but he didn't bother looking at them just yet.

He scoffed, pushing himself off the wall, slowly stepping closer to you. "Snarky one, aren'tcha? Just tryna be a little civil here."

"Civility? Don't make me laugh. Buddy, you're the one that bought me. I think we both know that any sort of civility you had has been long gone the moment you raised your stinkin' fucking hand in the auction and brought me down here." If your temper wasn't enough indication of a need of reformation, your mouth definitely was.

"I'm surprised you even lasted that long in the slums with that tongue and attitude of yours, most would've been turned into chopped meat without even a second thought." You were about to say something back before he slammed his hand into your face, pushing your head into the bed and prying your mouth open with his fingers. A gurgle of a scream erupted out of your throat as you struggled to push him off you, but no dice.

"But I'm not like most. Me? I could crush your skull whenever I want, maybe slowly pull each of your limbs apart so you'll feel each tendon and ligament rip away from your sorry torso." Porco pushed harder until you got the message, silencing yourself as your face ached and throbbed from the pressure, yet your eyes still held that same vindictiveness from the auction that never seemed to quite be quenched. Your jaw abruptly closed around his fingers, a pained hiss slipping out of his lips as the pearly whites grinded into his skin.

He's going to relish seeing that light die from you, when you finally realize that he's the sole reason of your living, that you should've been grateful from the start that he's the one that bought you instead of the beer-gut ridden trash that wasted away in the slums.

Porco finally removed his hand out of your mouth, drool and teeth indentations staining his fingers. Light steam was coming off of them, the superficial wounds closing up. He knew you caught that, eyes focused on his hand.

"Now, get some rest. Training begins tomorrow."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

When he said training, he meant torture.

That's what you thought as you experienced every debilitating and humiliating ritual he forced onto you every day. You eventually learned his name because of someone saying it upstairs — God you wished that the floors above were as soundproof as the basement's walls— Porco, but you called him 'piggy' sometimes, despite him trying to train you into saying sir. Simple, but it got him irritated real fast.

Porco was a strange man, you knew he was definitely not like the other men you've came across in your imprisoned life. Every wound you made on his person, no matter how deep you curled your nails into him or bite down as hard as you possibly could, he was left unblemished. Not even a fading scar or lasting indent, it was as if you've never injured him in the first place.

He bled, the taste of iron familiar on your tastebuds, but it really was like nothing occurred after a few minutes. You knew that he healed fast too, that weird steam came out of the wounds right after you inflicted it from what you could see with the lantern light, but you don't know why it did. Were you so out of touch from the outside for so long that new medical advancements were made?

He also disappeared for short periods of time, leaving you occasionally starving if he didn't leave enough food beforehand and surprisingly bored; he was really your only company nowadays, so it was quite frustrating to come to the conclusion that you'd even miss the bastard despite the shit he's made you go through. Once Porco came back though, he'd be a little nicer to you but that would last for roughly a week once you gotten sick of his company again.

He only sedated you when he needed your complete compliance or when he deemed you too much, your head rolling around weakly as he undresses and bathes you with him in the tub, the heightened sensation of calloused hands brushing against every inch of your skin. You may be out of it, but every other sensation was magnified. It was the only peace the two of you got with each other, even if you weren't a truly willing participant.

Porco was also quiet when it came to this activity, the steam and heat of the tub creating a slight flush on his tanned cheeks as he leaned back against the porcelain. His normally gelled-back blond hair would be damp and falling over his face, expression lax. You thought he was on the completely lankier side before since you rarely see him without the green coat, but no, he was quite muscular despite being pretty slender.

It made sense, he's lifted and thrown you like you weighed absolutely nothing, holding you down without much struggle, and letting you exhaust yourself while he looked completely normal.

He seemed disinterested in each other's nudity, though you did notice the first few times when he started the bathing routine that he took in every little detail of your body, eyes wandering more than usual. It's not like you could've stopped him and he never touched you sexually, only touching your privates to clean those areas. You've accidentally let out a quietly hitched breath here and there when he brushed those digits of his in-between your pussy, your drugged mind struggling to comprehend the feeling. You believed that he never noticed during those mishaps, not bothered in the slightest during it but whenever he got out of the tub first, it was pretty obvious he'd be partially aroused.

You wouldn't say that you were completely innocent in the act of staring at the other either, you've spotted his cock more than a few times and were slightly internally glad that he never took it for a spin against you. He must be a show-er more than a grower (if he was any lengthier hard, you might be in trouble), but he was notably bigger than the other disgusting men you've came across. Thank god for that, at least. It was finally nice looking at a man that wasn't built like a water buffalo in denial of balding and having the smallest dick around.

As time passed by, you feel like you confirmed your suspicions that he never really was interested in using you for any sexual needs, he was more into seeing how much it would take for you to break. Maybe he's done this to others to get his rocks off, but you'd never give into the sick man's perversions.

One thing that was prominent you've noticed while in his care was that he rarely made you do anything by yourself. He's the one that fed you with you on his lap, clothed you in stupidly feminine outfits from the start of the day to the night, bathed you alongside him. He cleaned and dressed any wounds you inflicted on yourself, but left surface scratches and bruises alone. Porco was in complete control and if you didn't let him take the reins, that's when the punishments rolled in.

Balancing books on your head as you stood on your tiptoes, if any of them fell or if you went back on your heels, he'd hit the back of your calves hard with a riding crop and restart the entire thing. Forcing your head over a bucket of freezing cold water, asking you difficult questions with no right answers to them, and pushing you down into it when you said anything that he didn't want to hear. He choked you out and left you intentionally starved for days when you refused to eat what he made, tied up and blindfolded in a tight closet with no indication of how long time had passed because you didn't want to wear what he chose, anything to ensure that you've learned your lesson.

You didn't, of course you never did. Whenever he asked if you had enough, you only just laughed at him and spat at his face, the punishments only ending once he got tired of it. Your stubborn attitude was the only thing keeping you sane in this world of yours.

No matter how much you were forced to endure endless embarrassment and shame, you'll never grovel or beg for mercy, not even shedding a tear for the agonizing pain you felt as you laid on the scratchy mattress every night. And besides, he wasn't the only one who tried and he most certainly would be the last once you figured out how to get out of here.

You felt a jab to your stomach, abruptly waking you from your short rest. The lights weren't even turned on, but even you knew that the next horrid day has just begun, a flashlight blinding you next.

"Morning sweetheart, you know what time it is? It's 3 in the morning, nice and early for our next session. Are you going to be good and let me put your outfit on?" The nicknames only started a few weeks ago, just because you were being obedient and compliant to his demands. It's to make you feel nice, to think that's what you should be doing to get on his good side.

Fuck, he's really insane.

Obviously since you were completely exhausted, you might as well let him take control again until you regained more strength. You nodded slowly, rubbing your eyes as he finally moved the light off of your eyes. He murmured something of a praise, stroking your head gently before going upstairs to retrieve the outfit. You sat there in silence, partially nodding off until you heard his footsteps near the door, body slightly stiffening.

You may not be outwardly afraid of him, but unconsciously, he made you become unintentionally afraid of the new fucked up punishments that he created. At a certain point in this life, it was undeniable not be terrified of something unexpected.

"A friend recommended this new place for women clothes since she noticed I've been in a good mood lately." Porco pushed the door open, a light pink babydoll dress in his hands. "Ain't it nice? Might be better than all the other ones I've put you in, the seamstress really has outdone herself, don't you think sweetie?"

Everything about it looked too short, ruffles and lace making most of the skirt and the sleeves overtly puffy. He may think he's putting you into something cute, but it was obviously something uncomfortable to wear. It's intentionally supposed to make you tick, you knew it was.

"It's..." You started, thinking about how to go around this without sounding offensive. "Pink."

He frowned, obviously expecting more from you but simply shook his head. Alright, that was a somewhat valid response.

"Still tired huh? Yes, most of your clothes are pink, but this one," He placed the dress next to you, along with the undergarments and shoes. "This one is for a special occasion."

Special occasion? A year must've already passed by since he purchased you, it wouldn't be all that surprising if he was celebrating that. You lifted your arms up and let him remove your nightgown, leaving you only in your underwear. Porco removed the dress from the hanger, turning towards you and pulling the dress over your head and arms, organizing it properly over your body.

Definitely too small now that you were wearing it, the bands around the arms making it feel like you were gonna lose circulation on them and your breasts nearly spilling out of the top of the dress, no matter how much he was adjusting it. The skirt was also way too revealing, just barely covering your panties but he soon tugged those off, putting on an even more scantily clad pair. He brushed out your hair, taking a few pieces and attaching a bow with it behind your head. The shoes were just simply white flats, the only part of the outfit that you had no problem with.

"There. Such a beautiful girl, wouldn't you agree?"

He cooed as he stood you up and dragged you to the bathroom, pulling off the drape that covered the mirror. You weren't allowed to use the mirror, that was what he said as one of the rules way back then. You didn't know why he asked that of you, but you've never seen yourself in years anyways, the details of your appearance foggy in each glimpse of a reflecting surface. The basement was dark too, the only sources of light being the flashlight or lanterns that Porco brings down here to see you. But this?

This was the first time you truly felt horrified at anything, bruises of varying colors littering around your skin, most prominently around your neck. You looked sickly, a pale complexion covering your skin, and bone-dead tired, eyebags weighing under your lower eyelids heavily. The only thing that looked decent on you was your brushed out hair and dress, despite how it squeezed at your almost feeble body.

"What... what did you do to me?" Your hands went over your face, feeling your very soul crumple into itself.

Porco snorted, his hand wrapping around your jaw and forcing you to look at the reflection. "Nothing. This is you, all you. The only thing I've done is the bruises but everything else is your fault."

You pushed him back, his body hitting the wooden door with a thud. Tears were starting to well up in your eyes since the first time in forever as you balled your fists at your side. You started wailing, curses slipping through your lips.

"Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"

"Y/N—" His tone was becoming angry, a warning.

Porco never said your name before.

You took off one of the flats and quickly threw it hard at the mirror, multiple fragments shattering off the wall. You grabbed the biggest piece that landed on the ground, feeling the palm of your hand cut open, warm blood spilling down your fingertips. Without a second thought, you lunged at your captor. Porco was stronger as he stopped you midway of your attack, but his hands slipped from the grip he had on your bloody hands and wrists, it was almost unnoticeable but not to you.

With the little strength you had left, you gave it your all, letting out a wrathful shriek as you jabbed the piece into his stomach, twisting it in as deeply as you could.

The world fell silent as you watched his blood seep through his shirt.

This was the first time you've looked into his eyes in the light and this close in general, the hazel color showing nothing but displeasure. You heaved slowly, taking in shaky breaths through your nose. Slowly, you released the shard and backed away from his still-standing body, the chain connected to you rattling along on the stony ground with your movements. Your eyes were still locked onto him, impatiently waiting for him to collapse so you can take the key out of his dying cold body.

Yet, that didn't happen.

"You're fucking pathetic, stupid even." Porco's hand reached for the mirror shard embedded in his gut, pulling it out with a slight hiss, as if it was nothing but a splinter. "If only, just only, you remembered that I can heal from any wound that your dumbass places on me, we wouldn't have this issue but I guess I gave your slow little brain one too many hits."

The steam was coming off of him again as he threw the bloody shard pack into the broken pile, your teeth baring at him.

"What the hell are you? Some kind of monster?" He laughed, pushing his hair back with blood, the red mixing in with the dark blond.

"Worse," Porco charged at you with inhumane speed, grabbing your throat and lifting you up in the air with one hand, your hands clawing at his forearm as black spots began to form in your vision. "I'm one of the worst monsters of them all. A Titan."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

You awoke to find yourself in a forest.

Originally, you thought you died. It's been years since you've last seen the outside, even felt the wind's breeze go against your face and feel the rising sun's rays warm up your skin. Yet, as you opened your eyes, you reached out to the grass, feeling the smooth blades brush up against your fingers, you knew you were still alive.

Sitting up, you slowly took in the surrounding environment. Did Porco abandon you because he thought you were dead? A giddy feeling rose up from within, excited about the possibility of finally, finally having the freedom that you've desired for so long. You wobbly stood up, realizing that you were still in the outfit he made you wear, now stained with dried blood. Ugh, at least he should've had the decency to put you back in rags or something before dumping your 'corpse'.

How far were you from the nearest civilization? You'd be lucky if you managed to come across one before either dying of dehydration or starvation, hoping you'd run into an Eldian internment zone rather than a major Marleyan city. Maybe even dying here in the wilderness would be a better death than being around people again, considering that all of them would just disappoint you once more.

There was a sound of grass crunching, small branches breaking from behind you as footsteps drew closer.

"Awake aren't we?" Fuck. You turned around, seeing him standing back at a distance, still wearing his bloody clothes.

"I wish I wasn't now that I know you're here piggy. Goddamnit, why didn't you just fall over and die when I stabbed you?" You grumbled the last half, tugging at the bottom of the skirt dejectedly. From afar, you could imagine that his eyebrow was twitching in irritation once you mentioned the nickname.

"You're so annoying, you know that? It's been a year and no matter what I do to you, you still persist. Still convincing yourself that you can't be broken. You've really ran me dry to figure out what I can do to make that pretty little head internally pop, well, I got one more thing that'll make you finally listen to me." Porco fished out a small pocket knife out of his jacket, holding out his palm for you to see before he sliced the middle of it, blood immediately gushing out.

"I'll give you a 15 minute head start, timer starts when I transform. If you can hide or outrun me, I'll let you go free. No catches, you'll simply be free to walk among us again. But if I find and catch you," A cocky smile grew on his face, pointing the knife down at you. "You're going back to the fucking basement."

Wait. What does he mean by transform?

A flash of blinding lightning appeared abruptly right in front of you, gusts of wind nearly knocking you over. You covered your face to try and shield yourself from the sudden weather change onslaught, the sound of something crunching forming loud in your ears. The light finally faded away after a few minutes gone by, a huge shadow hovering over you instead. Hesitantly, you peered up out of your arms and gaped in horror as you stared at the monster in front of you.

Where Porco once stood, a bony skull-like faced Titan stood before you on all fours, a mane of familiar blonde hair wrapping around its head like a lion. It had a shorter and muscular stature than most Titans you've seen in books before your kidnapping, still towering over you but not as much as a normal Titan would. White-tipped claws on each of its digits were prominent on both its hands and feet, digging into the soft grassy ground beneath it.

What the fuck? What the fuck?! Your captor was the Jaw Titan user the entire time? Is that why he disappeared every now and then? Holy shit, you knew what the Jaw Titan user's dick looks like.

Its small hazel eyes glared down at you through the skull-like mask and you felt frozen to the spot, too afraid to make any move. Was he even still in control of himself in there? A guttural growl came out of it then, snapping you out of it.

Porco's waiting for you to move, he... he wants to chase you down. You have no other choice, and you'd rather put up another fight than to lay down belly-up.

You took off the other flat that still remained on your foot and threw it at the face of the creature, soon dashing as quickly as possible into the lush forest. In your head, you knew your outfit was going to be an immediate sore thumb in the surrounding greens and browns so you started to rip it apart as you ran, trying to scatter the pieces as much as you possibly could to throw off the trail. All you were left in was your thin underwear and even that was a risk to keep on, but it was all you had left to preserve the dignity you were barely holding onto.

As you ran, you felt every stray branch dig into your already-damaged skin and every breath you took in felt like needles in your nostrils. It was better than nothing, better than getting immediately caught by that thing. You don't know how much time has passed since you started running, all you knew was that you must've wasted precious seconds when you gawked at the atrocity of a Titan.

There was a whipping sound and then a thud, trees cracking and breaking behind you. The echo of birds flapping away from the source, cawing in alarm rang loudly in your ears and you felt immediate dread crawl up your spine. Your head start was up, he's coming.

You still ran as fast as you could despite the burning in your underused muscles, trying to find somewhere decent to hide in. An overgrowth, a bush, anything at this point. The sounds of whipping and cracking were getting closer and closer, panic bubbling in your stomach until you missed a step, falling over and knocking the wind out of yourself.

You cried out as quietly as possible once you got air back in your lungs, slowly sitting up with damp dirt clinging onto your bare skin. Taking a glance at the ledge you fell from, an idea popped in your mind. Underneath, it was wide enough to fit your body and deep enough for you to hide in, so long as you could cover yourself up with leaves and dirt. The sound of a gurgling snarl close by meant that you had little time to put your plan into action, and you grabbed the nearby shrubbery in handfuls, crawling into the space as fast as you could.

Laying on your back, your place the gathered materials on your body, completely covered from head to toe. You didn't know how it looked on the outside, but it had to be something that could be overlooked when he was searching around. It had to be because you were not going back, you refused to.

The close rumble of the ground almost had you scream out in terror, but you put your hands over your mouth as tightly as you could, your breaths shaky out of your nose. The thuds grew closer and closer, body jumping with each passing step, and then it stilled. You could slightly see what was going on outside, heart dropping when you immediately spotted him.

The Titan was just standing there, completely still besides his head moving around to scan the area. He must've figured out that your clothing trail had gone cold or that it was fake the entire time, but the one thing you knew was that he was quick to catch up either way. A hissing sound, almost sizzling, broke the silence. You watched as Porco's original body appear out of the creature's upper back, right near the neck.

What. The. Hell.

"You're here, aren't you?" His voice was calm, no hint of frustration or irritation. Porco had too much pride to proven wrong, he was confident that he tracked you in the right spot and you hate that he was correctly onto you.

"Your footsteps stopped not too far from here, y'know. You tryna hide now? Ran out of stamina? Twisted your ankle?"

You clenched your eyes tightly together, praying that he'll give up, that he won't find you. Never in your wretched life have prayed before, but you'd start worshipping the very god that'll manage to make sure that Porco won't look in this shallow cavern.

"Fine. If you don't want to reveal yourself—"

There was another sizzling sound, your eyes opening and seeing that he went back into the body, the creature beginning to move once more. The Titan then opened its bony maw, revealing a second pair of sharper teeth before an ear-bursting screech projected out of it, your hands shooting to your ears to try and cancel out the horrid sound. The scream kept wailing aloud like a never-ending storm alarm, your head beginning to ache. It felt like it was going to pop the longer it went on, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Silence.

There was a slight ringing in your ears, but the screaming was gone and when you looked out of your hidey-hole, he was no longer standing there. Did he actually give up? You stayed still in the divot, head throbbing and heart pounding against your ribcage. You'll even wait until the next morning if it meant for any kind of confirmation that he was gone.

Suddenly, a claw came down on the roof of your cavern, the sharp tips just barely missing your body. It ripped away the dirt and rock, the sunlight blinding you as you sputtered out the pieces that came down on your face from the removal. Complete fear radiated off your expression as its unnerving mask stared down at your trembling form. You... lost.

You think that its — his — eyes were gleaming with glee right now, seeing how pitiful you looked, filthy and damaged. His hand reached for you, body stiffening as the fingers curled around you, picking you out of the hole carefully. The body of the Titan slumped down and the same hissing sound came out of the back of it, Porco reappearing once more.

"Took me only 30 minutes to find you, what a pathetic attempt of a run," He insulted, leaning his body over the fuzzy head of the creature. "Though, I will have to give props to you with the hiding. I wouldn't have spotted you until you moved in the hole from the scream."

"P-please... make this th... thing stop touching me." You almost whispered, the coldness and rough texture of its grip tight around your body. You hated that you were directly forced to stare at it, its eyes blank but still glaring deep within your soul.

"You afraid of it? You scared of the big bad Titan?" Porco taunted, his arm slightly moving and the grip tightening around you even more. You let out a strangled cry, your breathing becoming erratic. The feeling of the jagged bones jutting into your flesh like squeezing a balloon to its limit, the imagery of your organs bursting out of you, began to make you hysterical.

"Please s-st... stop! P-please! I... I don't want to die! Porco, I'm begging you! Get me out!" You started sobbing, blobs of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hated him, but you hated this monster even more. To think that they were truly real, a true threat to your fragile existence, it was something that was horrifyingly difficult to mentally process.

Porco gawked at your sniveling body, not even trying to wiggle out of the Jaw Titan's hand but still crying out to him for his help. This is what he wanted right? To see you completely give up, to depend on his assistance, to save you. He felt so fuzzy and dizzy on the feeling, almost like he drank too much liquor. Just to play around with you a little more, his hand twitched, causing the Titan to squeeze you even more.

You screamed out in fear once the pressure got even more narrow, your cries resonating louder within the deep forest as you simultaneously begged him to stop. Aw, how adorable but alright, he's had his fun for the day. This might've gotten the message across, let's see how long it'll last or else he'll have to do this again and again if he had to.

"Will you finally listen to me?" He finally spoke up, your teary eyes immediately meeting his and nodding furiously without hesitation.

"Yes! Y-yes I will!"

"And what do I want to hear from you?" You sniffled, looking completely drained of all fight.

"I-I'm sorry... s... s-sir. I wo... won't ever do i-it again."

Porco thought he never felt such euphoria in his life until he heard your apology, a wickedly proud grin growing on his face. He pulled himself out of the Jaw Titan's back, watching the creature start to steam and deflate as he reached for you, peeling its fingers off of your body and helping you down. Unexpectedly, you latched onto Porco once you got on the ground, your arms wrapped around him tightly in a vice hug. You... never did that before.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You repeated over and over again, your tears wetting his coat. "I won't fight you again, I-I promise sir."

His hand reached over to your head, light stroking the tangled strands as you trembled against his body. "That's what you get for being a bitchy brat, you don't want me to do it again right?"

You shook your head in response, gripping onto his clothes even tighter at the thought of being chased by that thing again.

"Then you gotta listen to me better, okay? You listen, no Titan. And now that I'm reminded of your bad manners, you've torn up that pretty dress of yours earlier. That wasn't cheap, you ungrateful bitch. How are you going to make it up to me?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Worry began to fill up your still-teary expression as you pulled your face out of his shoulder. You were taking every insult with a grain of salt, dismissing them completely. "I-I'll do anything to make it up to you, sir."

Porco really wasn't any different from the devil nuisances down in the slums, an excited shiver going through his system. If you're really offering anything, then he might as well get what he deserved out of you, he's been waiting a year for it after all. He lifted your face with one hand, rubbing away a smudge of dirt off of your skin with his thumb.

"We'll discuss what you can do about it later. Now, let's go home and get ourselves cleaned up, you smell like mud and look like shit." Another apology slipped through your lips as he moved forward with your hand in his, the corners of his mouth curling upwards with pure joy.

The animal within you has become neutralized, the flame dying and being left behind with the fading Titan behind the two of you.

Porco finally got what he paid for.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Are You Flirting?

modern!au

Summary: Who's the cute guy she was talking about last night?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 4863

Warnings: flirty lucien, shy reader but shes like 'yknow what fuck shyness lets flirt back' lmaoo

A/n: yall i need you to know. the reader is based on me. shes literally me. i crochet too if yal didnt know hehe. this was so fun to write like it felt like wring my own story except this shit never happened irl lol.

idk ill stop rambling now 😂

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYY 🥹

p.s: id say the credit for this idea goes to my bestie boo @berryzxx because she put me on the song that i used as inspo for tis fic and also bullying me into writing for that song. ily lots pooks 🤭

(based on an indian song 👀)

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The moment Y/n got the text from her college best friend Feyre, Y/n knew having picked up crocheting as a hobby was the best thing she could ever have done.

Exaggerating aside, she was excited when Feyre asked her if she wanted to reconnect after two years of not talking, and Y/n said yes without hesitation.

They hadn’t talked much, only ever interacting with each other’s instagram posts and stories. Feyre was too busy most of the time painting and opening her own gallery to display her art, taking commissions sometimes and travelling with her fiance.

And even though Y/n had wanted to stay in touch, being an upcoming writer, she did not get too much time to talk as she was busy writing all the time, and when she wasn’t, she was lying in bed wondering why she was in a slump.

Hence, she had picked up crocheting as a new hobby and made some pretty cute tops, imagining herself wearing them to a beach or somewhere pretty. She had been thinking of going somewhere as a vacation to clear her mind.

Which was why when Feyre suggested flying to some beach island her fiance owned for a little getaway with friends, Y/n could not contain her excitement.

Now as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, trying to pick between the two outfits in her hand, wondering which one to wear, she wished she had a boyfriend. Or a husband. Or something. She had always been an indecisive person, and at moments such as this, she wished someone could help her pick her outfits.

Feyre was probably on her way and here Y/n stood, wondering which one to wear and which one to put in her bag to wear the next day.

Ughh fuck me.

Finally, she settled on a pastel pink cardigan and a white halter top with a white bell bottom jeans. She wanted to make a good impression on Feyre’s new friends and decided that the safer option was better. She could wear the other one after she got more comfortable with them.

She had never even met Feyre’s fiance. The two had met and gotten engaged after Y/n and Feyre drifted apart, but Y/n had congratulated her friend on her insta post, so surely that counted as something?

Now that reminder had her reconsidering. Was going vacationing with people she did not know really the best idea?

I mean, what if one of them is a serial killer? What if one of them is suicidal and kills us all-

Maybe she should just cancel.

She was eyeing her phone, genuinely wondering if she should go, when the screen lit up and Feyre’s name flashed across the screen, the soft lilting sound of Y/n’s ringtone filling the air.

So it was decided. Y/n was going.

Y/n answered the call while simultaneously shouldering her bag. "Hello?"

Feyre’s excited voice screeched in her ear from the other end. "Y/n! I’m under your apartment now. Are you ready?"

Instantly, her mood became better and Y/n wondered why she ever considered refusing to go in the first place. Even if she was a stranger to Feyre’s friends, she still had Feyre. She was sure it wouldn’t be as awkward as she was expecting it to be.

Straightening, she glanced around her room for a final time before nodding to herself, confirming that she was not forgetting anything. "Yes, babe. As ready as I’ll ever be. I’m coming down."

Feyre squealed, and Y/n could hear chuckles from the background at her friend’s antics. "I can't wait!"

With that, Y/n ended the call and walked out of her apartment, closing the door behind her, focusing on the jingle of her keychain and not on the nervousness running through her veins.

Soon, as she walked out of the elevator on the ground floor, she spied two dark cars waiting outside. It made her hurry. The moment she exited, she spied her friend leaving the car, grinning.

Feyre ran the short distance to Y/n, throwing all her body weight onto her friend, making Y/n giggle.

"Calm down Fey! I’m not going anywhere."

Feyre pulled away with a wide grin, shaking her head, then grabbed Y/n’s hand and dragged her back to the car she had exited.

"We're a total of ten people, five in that car-" she pointed to the one standing behind the one she had exited- "and five of us in this one." Y/n nodded, trying to calm her nerves.

Feyre then got in, leaving Y/n to get in the back. Feyre’s fiance was sitting in the driver’s seat, black aviation glasses perched on his nose. He offered Y/n a warm smile and a wave before Feyre piped up.

"Y/n, this is my fiance Rhysand. That is Azriel, Rhys’s foster brother and his girlfriend, Gwyneth."

Y/n dipped her head in a polite nod to the couple sharing the back seat with her, but Gwyneth had no qualms about hugging Y/n. Y/n was surprised to say the least by the sudden affectionate action, but she returned it nonetheless with a wide grin.

"Nice to meet you all."

"Everyone, this is my best friend from university, as well as my then roommate, Y/n."

Azriel gave her a tiny smile, his loving gaze returning to his girlfriend not a moment later.

It made Y/n want to go aww, because if that was not pure love right there, then Y/n did not know what was. It made her long to have someone of her own.

Rhys started the car, and the first ten minutes passed in comfortable silence. And then Feyre spoke.

"So, Y/n. Please tell me you’re seeing someone."

Y/n sighed. "You would’ve been the first person to know had I been."

Feyre twisted to glare at Y/n.

"What?"

"Why are you still single?"

"Haven’t found the one yet."

Feyre contemplated for a moment, then grinned. "You know, I’ve got a friend-"

"Not again Feyre!" Y/n turned to Gwyneth. "You know, she would send me on dates with these random dudes every day-"

"Not every day!"

Y/n glared at her friend in jest. "Only because I bullied you to leave me alone."

Feyre sighed dramatically, then plopped back into her seat. "You’re mean."

Gwyn snickered. "Why did you not end up with any of them then?"

Y/n shook her head solemnly. "They were all either too arrogant or ugly."

That made everyone laugh, and finally, Azriel spoke up. "And how did you find so many guys, Feyre?"

Y/n perked up. "I want to know too! I always wondered if she went to asylums to get me a worse specimen than the last."

"Oh my god Y/n, they were just guys from our university and the neighbouring ones."

Y/n smiled. It was fun being around her friend again. It felt like the never stopped talking, picking up from where they left off.

"You know, we’ve got three single people in the other car."

Y/n dropped her head in her palm, and Gwyn cackled.

"Come on Y/n, they’re not that bad. One of them is a guy, but the other two are women. You can experiment if that’s what you want. Maybe that’s the reason you never connected with any guys I set you up with."

Y/n made a crying face and leaned her head against Gwyn, who continued to vibrate with silent laughter. "God help me."

Eventually, Feyre dropped the topic, ending up talking about random nonsense after that. Azriel also chimed in sometimes, but mostly it was either Feyre and Rhysand talking and Gwyn and Y/n laughing and giving unwanted commentary.

They had to take two helicopters to the island, which had Y/n wondering just how big of a jackpot Feyre had gotten engaged to. The ride to the beach home from the helipad after was again two cars.

While boarding the helicopter, Y/n had spied the other friends of Feyre and Rhysand getting out of their car, but she had averted her gaze when the redheaded man had turned to look, hoping she didn’t seem like a creep while she had been trying to take a look at their faces.

The ride to the beach house, as they called it, was silent because Y/n, Gwyn and Feyre dozed off for most of it, already tired after so much travelling. And before they knew it, the midday sun shone through the windows of the car as it finally stopped in the gated compound of a mansion that looked straight out of architectural digest.

Y/n could not stop gaping at it as she got out of the car, then turned to hold the door open for Gwyn.

"It’s so big and beautiful." Gwyn commented, her eyes too fixed on the two story structure. Y/n shot her a knowing look.

"I know right? Only seen stuff like this in the movies."

The two shared a giggle before Azriel joined them on their side and the trio followed Rhysand and Feyre to the main doors.

Rhysand had just climbed the top step when the doors opened, two ladies with long black hair cascading down their backs standing behind them, and Y/n decided that they were twins.

"Nuala, Cerridwen." Rhysand nodded at them with a smile, then turned to the people standing behind him when the twins left.

"I think it’s best if we freshen up and rest for some time before dinner."

The tall guy who had been driving the other car sighed dramatically, burying his head in Nesta’s shoulder. "Thank god, I am tired."

Nesta rolled her eyes, then smiled at Y/n. Being Feyre’s roommate, Y/n had met Nesta on multiple occasions and admired the woman a lot. Nesta, too, had always looked after Y/n like a sister when the three would go out to dinner.

"Y/n. How are you?"

Y/n dipped her head, then stepped forward and pulled Nesta into a hug. "I’m good. Your fiance?"

Nesta nodded, glancing at the hulk of a man. "This is Cassian. Cass, this is-"

"Y/n, heard a lot ‘bout ya." He grinned, extending his hand for a shake.

Y/n smiled at him, then turned back to Nesta and Feyre as the latter began speaking. "Y/n, this is Elain, my other sister. Mor, Rhysand’s cousin, and Lucien, my friend."

After everyone had been introduced, all of them retreated to their rooms. It seemed like they had these outings a lot, because the way everyone was so familiar with the layout of the house would have been uncanny had this been their first time here.

Except for Lucien. He seemed a little hesitant, lingering back with Y/n as everyone else left. But then Feyre directed the two to the upper floor, where two guest rooms were waiting for them.

The rooms were next to each other, so Y/n and Lucien were together till the very last moment. It gave Y/n a lot of time to admire the man’s attractiveness through stolen glances, and she wished it did not for she was not able to control the movement of her jaw that kept unhinging every chance it got at the sheer beauty of him.

Gosh, if he is the guy Feyre wants to set me up with, I am truly going to be blessed.

As the two finally reached the top step, Lucien glanced at Y/n.

"First time here?"

"Yup. In fact, I’m seeing Fey for the first time since we finished uni."

His brows rose. "Damn. How long has it been?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Around two years. What about you? Your first time too?"

He nodded, then paused at the first door to meet her eyes when he answered. "I’ve recently started getting along with her family." he thought for a moment, then leaned closer, as if letting her in on a secret. "I was actually the friend of her previous boyfriend, but none of them liked him and so they didn’t trust me much either. But now they’re moving on and so am I."

Y/n did not know how to respond to that, trying to wrap her mind around how anyone could be mad at someone who seemed as nice as Lucien. But he spared her the struggle.

"That’s a nice cardigan. Where’d you get it from?" His eyes travelled down her body, his gaze appreciative as it landed on the pastel crocheted garment. "Maybe I could get a similar one. We can match."

Y/n blinked at him, then ducked her head, futilely trying to hide her blush.

"Um, I made it myself."

He remained silent for a moment, prompting her to meet his gaze once again.

"You’re kidding."

She blinked again. "Why would I?"

He huffed out a laugh, leaning back against the doorframe. "So, you’re telling me you’re pretty and talented?"

Y/n could not move if she wanted to. She could not think. She could not do anything but stare at him.

This man, one who looked like he belonged on the cover of vogue, was telling her she was pretty?

God help me.

She looked around, flustered by the tiny smile blooming on his face, cocky but also knowing. He knew the effect he had on her and the damned man was enjoying it too much.

"Well, I will let you rest now. After all, you need to get some energy back for later tonight."

If those words had come from anyone else, Y/n would have wondered if they were saying she looked tired and like shit, but coming from him, the words were nothing but caring, if a touch flirtatious.

Wait, was that an innuendo?

She did not have time to dwell on that part much before he stepped aside, swiping his arm toward the door behind him. "Take a look at both rooms, then pick one you want. I will wait."

Y/n dipped her head, trying not to blush even more when he opened the door for her and leaned back, letting her pass.

She was much too flustered to even look around the room, let alone see if she liked it or wanted the other room, so she just mumbled to him that she will stay in this one, that he could take the other room.

Y/n knew he was about to ask her if she was sure, but whatever he saw in her face had him nodding, stepping back out of the room, tugging the door close with him as he went.

"See you soon, sweetheart." His parting words were heavy with the same knowing lilt he had a few minutes back when he had been flirting with her. It made Y/n’s cheeks heat up, and she turned to the bed, plopping down and burying her face in the plush pillows.

He was flirting with me.

Maybe… Feyre was right about him. Maybe I should give him a chance.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

After a light lunch and a few hours of rest, everyone had simultaneously gathered in the living room as if summoned by a silent command. Y/n had tried to sleep, and had accomplished the feat, but at the cost of tossing and turning every five minutes for an hour, her mind refusing to let her wind down and repeatedly playing the memories of Lucien flirting.

At least, she thought he was flirting. Y/n hoped she was not making a fool of herself for thinking that he was flirting while he simply was being kind.

She had gotten all of two hours of sleep before she shoved the covers off of her and decided to take a shower to freshen up, then she had proceeded to don a flowy sundress and walked downstairs. The hallways were empty, the only sign that she was not alone being the twins in the kitchen. They offered Y/n a smile before introducing themselves, then asked her if she needed anything.

Y/n had thought about it, then shook her head, telling them she just wanted to get some water. They graciously handed her a glass of it, despite her protests, and then they left her to her own devices.

She had just been sipping on it while staring at the sun setting when footsteps behind her let her know she was no longer alone, and she turned to look at Morrigan and Elain, who had walked down together. They offered her a smile, then sat along with her at the counter in swivelling chairs, the quiet comfortable and peaceful.

That was, before Cassian decided to grace them with his presence.

"Are Feyre and Rhys still not here?"

Y/n blinked, tearing her eyes away from the now violet horizon, barely any sliver of light visible, and gave him a smile. "Not yet."

He gagged. "They’re probably doing nasty stuff."

Nesta walked in with Gwyn and Azriel behind her, her eyebrows high.

"Like you don’t fuck."

He glared at Nesta. "Can you be a little more crass? I am trying to make new friends here."

Y/n hid her smile behind her cup, but considering it was a clear glass, she did not think it would work very well.

"So Y/n, what do you do during free time?"

Y/n set her now empty cup aside, turning all her attention to Cassian, who was done bickering with his fiance.

"I do crocheting while listening to podcasts, or I read when I just want to wind down. I also write."

He nodded appreciatively. "So you’re a creative person, huh."

"And she has a very pretty smile too."

Y/n felt her cheeks heating up already when she heard Lucien’s voice, but when she finally comprehended what he had said, she wondered if she’d just melt off.

God. Please, help me.

She tried not to meet his eyes, because even knowing him for barely a few hours, she knew he’d give her a knowing smirk, his eyes bright.

Cassian chuckled, and Y/n could feel everyone’s eyes on her.

Fuck.

Thankfully, Feyre and Rhysand finally arrived and took the attention away from her, and she felt like she could finally breathe again.

The couple asked what everyone wanted for dinner, bickering around for a few moments while Lucien, Elain, Azriel and Y/n watched.

Before long, Mor announced she was craving some barbecue, and when no one argued further, Rhys told everyone to gather on the back porch that faced the beach while he got the things out. When Y/n offered to help along with Feyre and Gwyn, Rhysand just told them to sit back and relax.

And then he dragged the other men with him.

Guess they won’t be getting any relaxing time.

The night passed almost too quickly to be natural, and Y/n already felt like she’d known these people for her whole life. Nesta and Gwyn refused to let anyone else talk to her because they were too busy asking her of all the books she’d read and inquiring whether she was planning on publishing.

Y/n could see Feyre pouting in the corner, but eventually Mor engaged her in a conversation, so Y/n’s guilt at not being able to give her friend enough time subsided.

When Nesta and Gwyn finally got distracted, Y/n leaned back, taking in the cool air when her neck prickled. Looking around, she met the gaze of Lucien from over the glowing barbeque, her cheeks flushing even when he hadn’t said or done anything. But he continued to look at her, the slightest tilt to those inviting lips.

Smug bastard.

When everything was cooked, Rhys called everyone to the outdoor dining table, the wood rich but warm, homey.

Y/n found two seats next to Gwyn, who beckoned her over. She smiled and had just settled down next to her new friend when she realised someone was sitting down next to her on the empty seat.

And it was not Feyre.

Mismatched eyes found her surprised gaze, and Lucien grinned at her.

"Lucien! That was my seat!"

He held eye contact with Y/n for a long moment before turning to a fuming Feyre. "Well, you can sit on my lap, darlin’. But I am already too comfortable in this seat to move."

Feyre huffed, the perfect picture of annoyance. But Y/n could see the glint in her eyes that told her that Feyre was having way too much fun right now watching Y/n blush.

When Feyre turned away to pout at her grinning fiance, Lucien leaned close to Y/n. "Or maybe, you can sit on my lap and I can give this seat to Feyre?"

Y/n turned away, trying to hide the warm flush on her skin at that. "I think Feyre will find herself another seat."

He chuckled quietly but let the topic go after that.

In the end, Feyre sat at the seat on the right of the head seat of the table, next to Lucien. Rhysand sat at the head, opposite Azriel, who occupied the seat on the other side of Gwyn, refusing to leave her side.

Everyone started to serve themselves, but just as Y/n was contemplating what to get, Lucien leaned past her, his scent enveloping her along with his warmth, and grabbed some grilled chicken.

"Try this, it’s good." With that, he put a few pieces on her plate, then continued to serve himself. He seemed so nonchalant, so careless as if he hadn’t just set Y/n’s heart on fire.

Like he wasn’t the reason she could not think straight.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Y/n did not know how the days passed so quickly. Agreed, it was a four day getaway, and yet it felt like barely any time passed and it was already the day they had to return home.

If she had to be honest, she did not want to leave the bed. Her limbs felt like they were tied down, heavy metal placed on top to stop her from moving. She felt so tired, as if her body was trying to stay here just a little longer, and maybe being tired would get her to stay.

Which was the reason why she forced herself to push off the covers and set her legs on the cold, wood floor and traipsed sleepily towards the window to check if she had missed the sunrise again. She had been wanting to watch it since they all arrived, but every day for the past three days, she had slept away without a care.

She’d had to set an additional alarm to wake up earlier.

The sky outside was dark, almost blue. But she knew dawn wasn’t far off.

She hurried to freshen up, then walked down the stairs to get herself a glass of water.

After she had acquired her drink, she stepped out and settled down on the two seater swing on the back porch, under her own room’s balcony. The air was chilly, but not enough to have her want to get up and bring a shawl or something to keep herself warm.

She also felt really lazy as she began sipping on her water slowly.

Gosh, I love water.

She refrained from drinking anything that was not water or milk.

She was also lactose intolerant, but, who really cares about that.

Y/n had just leaned back, wrapping both her hands around her cup when she heard movement behind her. But she let herself relax, knowing it probably was Lucien.

That was one of the many things she’d learned about him in the past days.

He always woke up at dawn. He apparently then did some light gym when he could before breakfast, to keep himself in that drool worthy body.

His words, not mine.

Okay… Maybe mine.

And maybe, just maybe, Y/n had wanted to witness her first ever sunrise, had wanted to wake up earlier even though she disliked being up early just so she could spend some extra time with him.

Maybe.

It didn’t take him long to settle down beside her, his own cup of steaming beverage in hand. It looked like green tea to Y/n, who’d had experience with making it for her father nearly every day.

"Good morning." His voice was rough, the sleep evident in it.

Don’t blush, don't blush. He’s just said good morning.

She blushed. Just a little. "Morning."

"Sleep well?"

Y/n nodded, watching him from her peripherals as the swing dipped slightly with his added weight.

"Still sleepy though. First time I woke up by myself to watch the sunrise." She paused for a moment, glancing at him. His lips were curled to one side as he stared out over the beach, his gaze fixated to the horizon. She shrugged. "Usually it’s by my family dragging me and bullying me into waking up early."

He huffed out a chuckle, but after that let silence settle between them.

The air was so peaceful, it brought a sense of calm over Y/n.

Maybe she could get used to this.

The two sat and watched as the sun rose, so slowly but also too fast. Y/n wished to enjoy this time forever, wanted to continue taking in the soft orange and pink hues that painted the sky as the glowing ball of fire rose higher in the sky. Wanted to bask in the presence that nestled into the pillows next to her, wanted to ink the sound of his soft breathing permanently into her existence.

It was over too soon, and even though Y/n savoured every second of it, she could not help but feel a sense of longing the moment Lucien straightened. She did not want to let go of this moment just yet.

He seemed to think so too.

Just when she thought he’d get up and walk back inside, he turned his head to stare at her.

"So, who’s the cute guy you were talking about last night with Fey?"

Y/n’s lips quirked up, a sudden burst of boldness spurring her on. But she paused as she thought back to Feyre’s words the previous night.

"Do you like him?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh please, I see the way you blush when he’s near. I see the way he follows you around like a lost puppy. I am not naive, sweet pea."

Y/n sighed. "I guess he’s cute."

Feyre squealed. "You need to go on a date with him."

If Y/n gave him the truthful answer, would she be making a fool of herself? Would she be doing herself the biggest favour ever? Did he even like her that way?

Finally, she decided that if she never tried, she might regret it later.

Feeling her gaze on him, she turned, knowing he waited for her answer. He sported a cheeky grin, eyes half lidded, as if he was more relaxed than he’d ever been.

She leaned in conspiratorially.

"You."

His grin faded, and he sat up straighter.

"What?"

"You’re the cute guy we were talking about."

He blinked, and Y/n did her best to hide her smug smile at the way his ears darkened with colour.

"Are you joking or flirting?" he mumbled, brows furrowed.

Oh, so he can flirt, but can’t take the flirting?

She told herself to remember that tidbit for later.

Y/n could not help it then. She let loose the smirk that broke out of her, and leaned closer still, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, so close that she knew that if she were to inhale, his lingering cologne from the previous day would take over every one of her senses.

Maintaining eye contact, she whispered.

"Flirting."

He did not move anything except for his eyes as she stood, his gaze following her like a physical caress. Just before she turned the corner out of his eyesight, she glanced back at him.

And winked.

She watched as a disbelieving grin formed on his lips, and then decided that was enough flirting for a year at least and ascended the stairs back to her room.

Feyre will lose her mind.

As soon as she closed the door behind her, she no longer felt that burst of confidence that came out of nowhere. Suddenly, she was a blushing mess as she shoved her face into the pillows and tried to calm her racing heart.

Her phone pinged then.

Feyre: ‘Lucien just texted me asking for your number. Is it okay if I give it?’

Y/n bit her lip to keep away the flustered smile. Just as she told Feyre to give it to him, she texted back.

Feyre: ‘Is there something I need to know? Why are you up so early anyway?’

Y/n decided that was enough. Feyre could wait.

Who’s the cute guy?

You.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[p-taryn-dactyl]

maybe for way down we go somehow agatha manipulates everyone/the evidence so it looks like she's innocent/falsely accused or reader has to hide her bc she doesn't want aggie to go back to jail idk I'm sorry lol i just love reading your work

way down we go: the aftermath (ii)

a/n: ok confess did you read my mind? but really, i’m so glad you sent this in bc i was wondering if the ideas i had were bad😭 but great minds think alike and so now here’s part 2 hehehe (also thank you anon! i’m so happy you enjoy my work!) edit: dear god i am so embarrassed by what i have written here but also i hope some of y'all like it?? oh god imma go climb in a hole christ maybe i should go back to church idk word count: 1.6k warning(s): first part of this fic is smut, or what i consider smut (ok idk why it's harder for me to write spicy shit on this blog when ive written it so many other times) the rest is back to normal production of murder, crime and debauchery; like a second or two of angst; im making so much of this shit up plz don't come for me

Once she started, it felt like she would never stop. 

You didn’t want her to. 

Your hands grasped Agatha’s neck and shoulders, trembling as she brought crashing waves of pleasure over you. With eyes screwed shut, your head leaned back, hitting the wall with a soft thud. But your wife wouldn’t allow you to rest. With the hand not pumping into you, she grasped your chin, forcing you to look at her as you pried your eyes open.

“Look at me,” her voice commanded softly as the heel of her hand pressed into your clit, drawing a surprised whimper from your lips as her pace became slow and languid, “I want to see what I do to you, what only I do to you.”

At her words, there was a question radiating in her eyes, along with a sudden hardness that took your remaining breath away. You tightened your grip on your wife, following her instructions and looking deep into her eyes. 

“There was no one else, there’s always been no one else. Only you.” 

Agatha nodded slightly, increasing her pace once more and looking proud of herself as your face twisted with pleasure. 

“Only me.”

Agatha added a finger, continuously brushing your bundle of nerves with the heel of her hand, relishing in your moans and how you wrapped your arms even tighter around her neck, bringing a hand to tangle in her hair and bring her into a crashing kiss. A battle for dominance was quickly lost as her tongue parted your lips, devouring you. You felt your mind grow hazy from pleasure, the hot coil in your abdomen threatening to snap. 

The ring of your phone interrupted everything. 

You felt it buzz in your backpocket, vibrating against the wall behind you. 

Agatha didn’t like your attention being taken away. 

She shifted, removing her fingers from you, much to your chagrin. You only had a moment to process before you were moved. In a blur, you now sat in the very chair Agatha once sat, your legs propped over her shoulders, your phone in her hand as she handed it to you. You furrowed your brow in confusion as you watched it ring, Agatha’s eyes never leaving yours. 

“Answer it, we can’t have anyone worrying for you.” There was something in Agatha’s tone that you couldn’t decipher but you couldn’t go against what she told you to do. You put your phone to your ear, hitting the answer button. Darcy’s panicked ramblings flooded out, barely giving you time to answer any of her questions. 

“Did you see the news? Y/N, this is crazy. Do you think she escaped? Oh god with our luck she was behind it all! Where are you right now? Do you need company? Girl I can be over to your place so fast-”

You were quickly distracted from your best friend as you felt Agatha’s hands tighten on your thighs, pulling your pants and underwear down with her teeth. She only took a second to take in the sight in front of her, your glistening folds, wet from the pleasure she gave you. Then she dove straight in. You could barely contain your surprised squeal, slapping your free hand over your mouth. 

She was relentless, fingers parting your folds as her mouth covered your entire core, tongue going straight to your clit. It was like she was doing everything to get you to fall apart before her and you were oh so close.

"...Y/N, are you ok?"

It was like Darcy was speaking to you underwater, your focus purely on how your wife's head moved between your legs. Swallowing back a moan as Agatha's tongue flattened and lapped harshly at your folds, you gave your friend an answer.

"Yeah...I'm, I'm just shaken. Can I call you la-later?"

You could practically feel Darcy's hesitation through the phone but the second she agreed you hit the hang up button. Throwing your phone onto the floor somewhere, your hands tangled in Agatha's hair, encouraging her. You felt her smirking before she removed a hand from your thigh to slip two fingers into you, almost immediately finding that electric spot within you. Paired with her lips and tongue staying firmly suctioned onto your clit, you felt your orgasm crash into you and over you. Your mind and body felt seperated as you caught your breath, Agatha peeling herself away from you, coming up to kiss your forehead. She nuzzled you with her nose for a moment, the soft action sending you into a light sleep.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The weeks that followed Agatha's return were nothing less than stressful. Constantly looking over your shoulder as you walked into your home, unplugging every and any device that could connect to internet, and ordering food but having them deliver to your neighbor finally made you snap one day at the lab.

You knew how to do it, you knew how to collect evidence, how to manipulate it wasn't exactly hard.

The issue was Darcy.

While she was a great friend, constantly checking in on you, making sure you were okay with your supposed serial killer ex-wife being on the run, she was the greatest obstacle in your goal.

One night, while the two of you had dinner, you mentioned this to Agatha, angry at yourself for being untruthfull to your friend.

"Well, I could always," Agatha made a gesture with her knife jokingly, smirking to herself as she cut into the steak. It was like all the air left the room, the reminder of what your wife was hitting you like a truck. At your silence, Agatha looked up, her eyes widening at your expression. With a shaking hand, you pointed at your wife and shook your head.

"No, no, you don't-" your voice broke as everything swirled around in your mind, "You don't joke about that. Definitely not about Darcy."

Agatha opened her mouth to respond but you found yourself not wanting to hear her voice. Some petty, evil, part of you called from the dark part of your mind to call the police. Turn Agatha in once more and remove the weight from your shoulders.

You ignored that thought, instead pushing your chair away from the table before Agatha could speak and walking to the bedroom, calling over your shoulder.

"I'm going to bed, I need to think."

You got into your pajamas, going through your nightly routine with a lump in your throat, like your flight or fight was being triggered. It took a while for you to notice that Agatha had yet to come to bed, the time well into the night. Making your way into the living room, you took some steadying breaths. While your reaction was valid, maybe you should've stayed to listen to what she had to say. When you crossed the threshold into the living room, you saw that Agatha had gotten some spare blankets out of a closest, making bed on the couch. She too was awake and smiled at you hesitantly when she noticed you standing in the walkway.

"I didn't know if you would appreciate my company tonight." Her voice was soft, almost as if she was trying to be careful. You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

"I always appreciate your company, I didn't appreciate the comment you made."

Agatha nodded, slowly getting up from the couch to come stand in front of you, holding her hands up as if she wanted to hold you.

"It's too early for jokes, I understand."

At a peculiarly pointed glare, Agatha quickly added on,

"And Darcy is off limits, of course. I would never, I mean- she's safe, totally safe."

Some part of you wanted to laugh at your flustered serial killer wife but you simply held out a hand, pulling her back to your bedroom, your plan and anxiety of tomorrow swirling in your head.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd never been more grateful for a robbery before. Since you specialized in murder or special victim cases, you were able to stay behind in the lab while Darcy and Jimmy went to case the gas station and talk to the poor teen who was at the register. You reviewed the two key pieces of evidence that were used to hammer the final nail in Agatha's coffin. A strand of hair and the blood profile. Anything else was circumstancial or based on a loose psychological profile.

The hair was easy enough to make doubtful as it wasn't a reliable source by itself. The follicle of the strand wasn't even attatched, meaning the only use this had was to be compared with a strand of Agatha's hair taken during the trial process.

One click and the hair was digitally gone.

The blood, however, was the tricky part. It was a 94% match to your wife, meaning it could either be her or a relative. You felt your stomach drop when you realized this could be the evidence that ruins everythings.

Until you noticed something.

In your report, in the other forensic report, and in the court transcript, it said the other blood profile was heavily mixed into the victims. You did a cross reference between Agatha's supposed blood and the victims, the result showing that one couldn't be distinguished from the other. Agatha's blood was triggered as the closest possible match of the two blood profiles, even though realistically the computer should've said the evidence was inconclusive.

An excuse formed in your head.

You, and your team, were so focused on catching the serial killer that had been terrorizing the town, you had overlooked key inconsistencies, instead focusing on the one true suspect you'd had on the case.

One click. The blood was deemed inconclusive.

One click, the case was reopened.

One click, all evidence of Agatha being guilty was erased.

One click, no one would know it was you who had manipulated the system.

One click.

Agatha was officially innocent.

a/n: was this ok? lie to me and say yes, wait no don't do that I'll get happy then remember you're lying and then ill be sad. on another note, r is officially a criminal whoo. i do have something planned for this series but can y'all tell me if you genuinely like this series? many thanks 🙏

[siren-serenity]

a bouquet and scored dates

A bouquet of flowers is a surefire way to score a date with your crush. Seeing it go viral on Magicam immediately made Cater jump in on it too! Who wouldn't want to take this opportunity to blow up their account? And if Cater managed to score a date to the Unbirthday party too, then that's a lovely bonus.

characters: cater diamond, gn!reader, grim cameos!! warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst and self-hate a/n: - i feel so bleh for not writing for slow long so here you go!! a small cater diamond x reader fic bc i love my husband 😍😍😍 - @ceruleancattail, this is also for you!! united by our love for cay-cay, who slay-slays hehe - feedback is appreciated!

A knock against the old, rickety door of Ramshackle made you blink your eyes wearily. Grim leaped off your stomach, walking around the wooden floors before yawning.

"Who disturbed the great Grim's nap?" He yowled out, obviously annoyed. "Come on, I was having such a nice sleep!"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. "Mhmm...tell me about it."

The knock came again, this time more urgent. There was almost a playful pattern to it, a rhythmic beat building into a melody of taps and raps.

"Coming!" You yelled, sliding across the floors (and proceeding to trip over an uneven wooden board, making one of the three ghosts giggle at you) before landing in front of the door. You swung it open and a grin crawled onto your face. "Cay-Cay!"

The orange-haired student smiled sweetly before winking at you. "It's your favorite junior, Cay-Cay! Good morning, Y/N."

Leaning against the doorframe, you tilted your head. "It's always nice to see you in the morning, but whatcha here for? Classes don't start for another hour..."

You trailed off as a beautiful bouquet came into view. Cater blushed as your scrutinising glance shifted from the gorgeous array of flowers to his face. He fought the urge to hide his face behind the flowers and took a deep breath in. Hopefully, he won't butcher it up! He spent hours on making it perfect all by himself.

(Riddle and Trey let out a sneeze simultaneously before returning to their business.)

...But of course, when did things go to plan?

"So I saw this one Magicam trend online and was like 'OMG those flowers look so adorbs! So I decided to make a couple to follow the trend and wow, I blew up!! The flowers look so beautiful on pictures that people went crazy liking them and I got over a thousand likes in the first hour! So, realizing my talent, I was like 'hey, Y/N likes flowers right?" So I went in the botanic garden, BTW Leona says hi and warns you to never get anywhere near Savanaclaw or the guys will rip you up from limb to limb. IDK but anyways! I got some flowers, put a bit of tender, love, and care, and voila!"

Cater held out the flowers as an explanation. He internally frowned at the ramble he had spoken rather than the touching, sentimental paragraph he planned on reciting. But when your fingers brushed against his to grasp onto the bouquet, his mind blanked out.

Soft...your hands were so gentle against his. A soft breeze caressing a petal.

You took them and held them up to your nose to inhale its sweet scent. It wasn't overpowering, thankfully; It was the right blend of fresh wilderness and soft, subtle floral scents.

"This is...Cater, I'm lost for words," You breathed out.

He gulped and his heart stuttered at the joy in your eyes and your smile. He knew being magicless in a world like his was no easy feat. It was even harder to ignore when every lesson involved the use of magic one way or another; Being surrounded by mages day-by-day would have caused him to go insane if he were you. But, you simply stride onwards. He admired your persistence and optimistic approach to life and it was what had drawn him to you in the first place. Being able to put a smile onto your face made him yearn for an eternity to do that for you, right by your side.

Realizing he hadn't spoken in a while, he cleared his throat.

"Riddle's hosting an Unbirthday party tomorrow."

You raised your gaze from the bouquet to meet his, (E/C) eyes against emerald ones. Cater fiddled with the buttons of his dorm uniform.

It was now or never!

"Would you like to attend with me?"

You laughed and nodded. "Of course I do! I'll go and tell Grim about the party-"

"-I meant with me. As my date," Cater blurted out. His face must be as red as his vest because his cheeks felt as if they were set aflame. "Would you like to attend the Unbirthday party tomorrow as my date?"

"Oh Cater..."

He closed his eyes and tightened his fists involuntarily. He opened his mouth, ready to put a fake (fake feelings, fake friends, mask on his face as usual-) before he felt the softest of kisses against his cheeks.

His eyes shot open as Cater stared at you, faintly registering the close proximity between you and him. The bouquet paper crinkled against his uniform but it seemed that neither of you paid any attention to it.

"I would love too," You smiled softly. "Tell me how you'd like to match? I know you love coordinate couple outfits on Magicam."

Yet another reason why he loved liked you.

"Yeah," He breathed out. "Yeah, yeah I'm going to go do that."

You leaned back and he yearned for your presence again, like a plant bending to the whims of sunlight. It was simply intoxicating.

"See you in class, Cay-Cay," You winked. The bouquet remained clutched in his hands and he was forever grateful for that silly Magicam trend.

He blew you a playful kiss, elation in his veins and joy in every corner of his smile. "Can't wait!!"

Cater skipped all the way back to Heartslabyul, too busy planning your and his outfits to notice the odd glances cast his way.

[flamingo-writes]

Pillow Talk — Hobie x Fem!Reader

Summary: set in the 70’s. After having a bad day, your best friend Hobie attempts and succeeds at turning your day around.

A/N: not proof read. This started as a vent fic bcs I was feeling ignored by the world. This turned out longer than expected. Fem!Reader, the only mention about the reader’s appearance, except at some point I mention the reader’s shirts fit Hobie, however, Hobie is a very tall dude, but he’s also very thin. I wrote this keeping an average sized reader in mind (my bf is as tall as Hobie, not as skinny, and my medium sized shirts fit him very short, so the reader could be even be larger than average sized)

Genre: fluff, plotless fluff!! Friends to lovers expect the lovers part didn’t make it to the fic. I might write a sequel, but I also might not. I need ideas and inspiration.

Warnings: not proof read, idk if I wrote curse words or not…other than that I’d say anxiety and

Word count: 2.9K

The tapping of that rain on the glass was a good company to your music. Slow lullabies, that fitted your current mood, matching the weather outside. As you lied on your bed, your face towards the wall besides your bed as you wished for the day to be over.

It was one of those days, in which the world seemed too loud, too overwhelming. It was almost as if you were invisible that day. No one listened to anything you had to say, everyone seemed to actively ignore you, even one of your friends snapped at you over what you considered to be nothing and kept blaming yourself for that even when it wasn’t something that serious to begin with. Today was a very busy day at the coffee bar, you were truly exhausted and wanted nothing but to go to sleep and wait for the day to end. Although falling asleep had resulted to be an impossible task.

So you listened to music instead. The rain helping set the mood. You wanted to stop existing for a while and even stop thinking. Ignoring the phone ringing a couple of times. Even ignoring the loud growl of your stomach as you had absolutely no energy to do anything.

You heard the window sliding open, immediately knowing who it was. You lived on the 8th floor of a rather stinky flat building. And only one person insisted on using windows rather than the normal main door.

“Shite, tryna give me a heart attack?” He said at once. “Thanks for picking up by the way,” He said sarcastically as he took off his boots and started pacing around your room like it was his, making himself to the bathroom where the first aid kit was as he kept on rambling.

“Thought you were either still at work or out with friends or whatever, you know, after you very kindly didn’t pick up your phone, ey?” He said. “Came ‘ere to patch myself up, after I tried calling thinking there wasn’t anyone home. You’ve got the nice gauzes, tell your mother thanks for me one of these days, for being a nurse and letting you sneak this things out of the hospital for ya,”

The entire time he was talking there was no reply. No sassy comeback to his sarcasm. No playfully following along his comments. Nothing. Just silence.

But you were awake.

Hobie knew you were awake. He’d heard your breathing and heart rate when you slept countless times before, and from your current breathing and heartbeat now, he knew you were awake. You’d be known to fall asleep with loud punk music on, but even then, you’d were awake.

“Did you hear me?” He asked frowning softly as he knew something by was up.

“Arrived from work a couple of hours ago. No, I didn’t pick up the phone. Yea they are nice gauzes. Yes I’ll say thanks to my mom, especially for not asking questions when I ask her if I can take gauzes and sutures and occasional antibiotics,” you replied dryly, dragging your tongue the way you usually do when you’re either tired or stressed.

“You a’ight?” He said walking towards your bed, reluctant to sit on it as he would’ve liked. As his trousers were a mess and he wasn’t sure if his wound was still bleeding or not.

“No,” You sighed.

“What happened?”

“Eh,” He saw you shrug, even amidst the dark room consumed by night, only the streetlights filtering through your window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, his voice softening.

You were usually the annoyingly optimistic one. You were usually the one begging him to open up and to let things off his chest when something was bothering him.

“No, not really…” You sighed. “Perhaps later…Tomorrow even…”

“Is this usually how it’s like to deal with me when I’m in a mood? You’re not exactly helping me here,” He joked.

He felt some relief when he heard a single chuckle escape your chest. At least you still had your sense of humour there.

“No, not really. You’re more sarcastic when you’re mad, and it’s your sarcasm what usually helps me figure out what happened…”

“Then this is inherently harder…” He pointed out.

“Sorry about that,”

“Can I help you somehow?”

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know…” You sighed. “How do you deal with feeling invisible?”

That was the most he’d gotten out of you, and he raised an eyebrow.

“You feel invisible?” He asked softly.

“All day today I’ve felt invisible. No one listens to me, or cares for what I have to say. I’ve been trying to talk and people just cut me off mid sentence to say something completely unrelated…I think I broke up with Mark…”

That last bit took him by surprise. One thing was that you were just having a bad day, and then you mentioned an actual event, and a big one for that matter.

One that he’d been waiting to happen, but he always envisioned you to be raging when you did. Mark was…well, he was a man, for starters. Hobie insisted men ain’t shit —“even myself, luv, I don’t know why you let me be your friend in the first place” he’d say— the amount of self awareness Hobie had came from a rough childhood growing up homeless for the most part of his youth. Something Mark had the good luck not to experience. He was your usual entitled, misogynistic, stuck up wanker. He could afford you gifts and romantic dates every so often. But the times Hobie had seen you mad because of something Mark did outnumbered the amount of times you actually seemed happy to be with Mark.

And he couldn’t believe someone as sweet and smart as you could be with someone like him. Maybe Mark needed someone with a good amount of patience, because otherwise, Hobie couldn’t see how would someone keep up with his shit.

But you weren’t like anyone else he knew. You were perhaps the biggest softy he’d met, which was hilarious because you also called yourself a punk. And you helped him plan out his subversive actions, you helped him with his art pieces, you helped him a lot with indirect work. You never really took a stand and walked into the dangerous situations, but you were always there helping Hobie backstage, remaining anonymous and safe.

Hobie found endearing how sweet and gentle and patient you were for a punk. You took a lot of shit for yourself, but went absolutely insane when someone you cared for received the slightest unfair treatment. He found your fear of getting in trouble adorable, yet understandable. Things had been changing a lot for women recently, but things were still pretty much unfair.

Hobie could understand and respect that. He knew the disadvantage, and was well aware of the privileges that came with being a man. Sure, he was black, but he was still a man. He still had privileges women didn’t have. And not even from a legal standpoint. Even with his skin colour, society tended to respect him more than a woman regardless of her colour.

“Whoa, luv, hold up. What about Mark?” Hobie said.

“I think I’m going to break up with him next time I see him…” You sighed. “At some point I was feeling very bad at work, and I wanted some sort of comfort…During my break I called him…” You sighed softly as your eyes teared up, and Hobie could hear your voice break slightly.

“What did he say?” Hobie sighed, growing annoyed.

“At first he was being helpful. Actually listening. But then…I don’t know, I don’t know if I said something or how I said it, but I heard him sigh and say that he was sorry I was having a bad day but he was dealing with problems much bigger than mine and made some very passive aggressive comments about how he has a real job while I work at a coffee bar…And I hung up on him…” You said, swallowing the lump in your throat, as Hobie felt his own chest squeeze painfully.

“The only worse thing than being ignored, is being shamed for who you are…” You sighed, shutting your eyes closed to keep tears from falling. “I was having a bad day, the last thing I needed was to be scolded, you know?”

Hobie leaned over your bed, and kissed your head while running one of his large hands across your hair. “I’m so sorry, luv…” He whispered. “But good for you. Mark isn’t half the person you are, you deserve someone much better. Although, that might be a tad impossible because you deserve the entire world, and I don’t think there’s someone in the world actually worthy of you…” He said, his voice gentle and sweet, one of the very few instances in which Hobie wasn’t his usual self-satirical-theatrical punk he liked to be. He was capable of being very gentle and sweet.

You chuckled, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his lips burning through your skull in the nicest of ways.

“Hey, I’m all covered in blood and sweat and all those nice things,” He joked. “I’ll go take a quick shower and I’ll be right back with you, okay?”

“Yeah…Thanks, Hobie,”

“Just doing what I must, sweet’eart, don’t sweat it. Are you hungry by the way?” He said standing back up as he headed to your wardrobe.

He grabbed some sweatpants Mark had around, thinking Mark wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Plus, Hobie knew Mark wasn’t exactly fond of how close friends you two were. And Hobie usually wore some of the clothes Mark left at your place, knowing it would piss Mark off when his clothing smelled like your punk bestie rather than your normie boyfriend.

However, he took one of your shirts. His slim thin body actually allowed him to wear your shirts and fit him just perfectly. Perhaps a bit short on his long torso, but for that matter, rarely any shirt that fit his shoulders and chest fit his torso. And any shirt that fit his lengthy body was huge on his shoulders making him look ridiculous.

He took your Patti Smith shirt from the concert you’d gone to just a few months back. He’d gone with you and had actually fallen in love with her and her work. He’d listened to a few of Patti’s tracks, and he considered himself a casual enjoyer and it wasn’t until you dragged him with you to the concert that he became a big fan.

“A bit, actually…” You lied, feeling the pit of your stomach threatening to digest itself if you didn’t eat anything soon.

“Okay, how about this,” He began confidently. “After I shower, we’re gonna go to the new place that opened just around the corner…” He suggested. “Dinner’s on me. And I’ll make up for the bad day you’ve been having, how about that?” He asked as he walked back towards your bed and ruffled your hair playfully.

“I want to be a little ball of suffering and tears,” You whined, chilling softly.

“That’s a bunch of shite and you know it. Come on, wash that pretty little face of yours and get ready, we’re leaving as soon as I’m done,” He said and walked back to your wardrobe, grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom.

You chuckled and sat up on the bed, watching him close the bathroom door as you sighed deeply and stood up, heading to the kitchen, taking a large glass of water.

At times like this you were absolutely grateful for having someone like Hobie. No, not someone like him. But having Hobie as your best friend. He was the absolute best friend someone could have. The amount of times he looked out for her more than anyone else, really. More than Mark, more than your friends, more than your own parents.

You washed your face on the kitchen sink and by the time Hobie was out of the shower. Smelling like your body lotion and even your shampoo, his scent was still predominantly there. However to Hobie, all he could smell was that comforting and familiar scent of home.

As you heard him walk out, you headed to the living room where you found him pacing around in black sweats and your Patti Smith shirt.

"Hey, that’s mine," you whined playfully as you walked up to him and tugged on the shirt gently.

"Was" he corrected.

"No, fuck off!” You complained with a gentle laugh as you gently pinched his tummy. "You have your own Patti shirt! This is mine!” I complained like a little kid.

"If you want me to undress you just have to say so," he chuckled as he gave you a cheeky smirk and you pinched his tummy again. "Ow!” He giggled softly and rubbed his stomach where your fingers had been. "C’mon, let’s go get food, I’m famished,"

After dinner and getting back to your apartment, the two of you decided to "watch" movies. You weren’t really watching, you were talking back and forth, sometimes about the movie, sometimes about other things.

You were snuggled right besides him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you close to him. His tough keeping you warm, fat more than the blanket over both your laps.

You eventually fell asleep on the couch. His arms around you and you comfortably nuzzling your face against his chest. Despite the couch being too small, you slept comfortably at least until well into the night. You woke up softly sometime after 3 am. Groggy and still in a sleepy haze.

“Hobie?” You murmured.

“Hm?” He replied deeply asleep.

“We fell asleep on the couch…” You yawned.

“Hm,”

“C’mon, we’re going to be more comfortable in bed…” you murmured and tugged on his arm as you clumsily got up and turned off the tv.

“Hm…”

Still somewhat asleep, he stood up and followed you into your room, holding on to your hand as you guided him towards the bed.

As he collapsed on the bed, you followed him and lied down besides him. As soon as you lied down besides him, Hobie pulled you into his embrace. Too asleep to realise what he was doing. You giggled.

“You’re pretty cuddly when you’re sleepy…”

“It’s a you effect…” He mumbled, dragging his tongue as he was mostly asleep. “You make me all mushy…”

Your cheeks blushed as you looked at him. His eyes closed and face relaxed, as you thought perhaps he wasn't going to remember this conversation tomorrow.

“How come?” You asked curiously as your heart raced and suddenly you weren’t sleepy whatsoever.

He shrugged. “You’re the nicest, cutest, bestest person I know, how could I not?” He mumbled.

“Hobie?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have feelings for me?”

“You just noticed?” He scoffed softly as he flashed you a confident smile, his eyes still closed.

“I…yes…”

“Huh,” He chuckled softly. “You’re so cute…”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because we’re friends and I’ve always been scared to—“ his tongue started dragging more and more, as his words soon became incomprehensible and soon he was deeply asleep.

It took you a long while to fall back asleep. Hobie’s sleepy love confession kept you awake as you kept going on and on inside your thoughts as suddenly his gentle and over protective nature towards you made sense.

He was naturally protective of those he cared for. He assumed the role of older brother. But with you it was different. While Hobie hated to be told what to do, and he always made a point to remind people about it. Not you. He always made some joke, but never complained.

Hobie wasn’t a morning person. I’m fact, he hated them. You on the other hand, always woke up at a decent time. Never after nine, but never before eight. A reasonable hour. You killed time reading, waiting for Hobie to wake up. For no particular reason, you simply felt like waiting for him to wake up. Besides, your shift at the coffee bar didn’t start until five that afternoon.

“Hey…” Hobie murmured, catching you off guard as you put down your book and looked at Hobie.

“Morning, you…”

“Morning, luv…”

You looked at him with a sweet and tender smile, remembering the conversation you two had last night. A conversation you knew he had no recollection of. It felt like having a secret between you two, a secret Hobie ignored, but still one you two shared.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He purred.

“No reason…” You chuckled and snuggled against him, hugging him.

Hobie’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes widened. He wondered what exactly was going on, but knew better than to question it and hugged you back.

“You’re weird sometimes…” He chuckled and pressed a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“But you like me this way…” You murmured, taking in a big breath, feeling your lungs fill with his scent.

“Perhaps,” He chuckled and rested his cheek on your head.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey!! I really admire your writing so I thought that maybe you could lend me a hand w smth... Do you happen to have some tips or exercises to get out of a writing block?

Or well, idk if I'd call what I'm struggling with that- is just... Whenever I try to write stories, my brain just isn't capable. Like. I know what I want and I know how I want it to sound but words just don't come out and if they do they don't feel good at all. And I /was/ able to do it before. It's like a part of my mind got blocked. I was reading your Miss Raven lore and what she studies while trying to create her UM made me think of this problem I'm having- the part rediscovering a part of oneself that was lost... or something like that.

So I thought that maybe you knew of some exercises or just... Something? Anything? If not I totally get it tho- sorry for rambling

[Referencing this series!]

Hello, hello!! ^^ Thank you for complimenting my writing, your support's much appreciated! I hope you can continue to enjoy my work~

I think I understand what you're going through. Gosh knows how many pieces I have on the backburner... but never enough time or motivation to finish them all. Having ideas is the easy part; actually fleshing out those ideas into fics is tricky, especially since we creatives can easily be our own worst critics. I'm pretty finicky with my own action scenes, dialogue, and emotionally intense moments and have to edit, revise, or completely rewrite them multiple times until it's sounding the way I want it to. Writer's block gets to us all sometimes. It's a natural part of being a creator so don't be shamed or worried!

abldsbuaodadfjnla It's interesting that you mentioned Miss Raven's struggles when describing your own. When I was in the process of writing her saga, I wanted her problems to be relatable and meaningful to others in some way. I'm glad that it happened to help you identify something within yourself 😃

Here are some of the things that I personally do to get out of writing slumps. This is what works for me, so I cannot guarantee that they will also work for you--but hopefully this at least gives you some kind of starting point!

Take a walk! Touch grass! It's good to get your mind off of creating and just... take a breather. You'd be surprised how refreshing it is to get fresh air and sunshine. Who knows, you might also see something on your walk that inspires you.

Take a nap! If you have an interesting dream, write it down. It could become a cool idea somewhere down the line.

Talk to a friend; it helps to have a new perspective to bounce ideas off of.

Read a book! Sometimes getting a sense of how someone else shares their ideas can inspire you to work on your own style.

Use another hobby as a creative outlet. For me, that's scrapbooking/journaling and baking. Don't set limits or rules, let yourself work at your own pace and have fun.

Start small, like writing some dialogue exchanges or a sentence or two.

Do writing or character prompts. You can find prompts of your own or use a website to generate random combinations.

Another exercise I like to do is writing a short story based solely on a random image. You can find images yourself or have a friend hand you one. It helps stretch the creative muscles!

The most important thing is to allow yourself the chance to rest and recover! No one can be a content making machine 24/7; that’s not what humans were built for. Be kind to yourself!!

Good luck with your writing~ ^^

[spencereid-reads]

the language of you | s. reid

wc: 2.1k // warnings: english isn't my first language! an extreme amount of italics, meet-cute, love at first poem sight kinda thing. poems that i found on either google or pinterest. a few swear words, maybe? // a/n: my first time writing for reid and cm in general. i'm in the middle of season 9 and idk where this idea came from. also i don't know anything about poetry, the last quote is as far as my knowledge goes. if you think you know me from my other writing blog no you don't<3but ily also idk if i'll keep writing, i just wanted to post it bc of world poetry day, i think it's a nice coincidence.

i use she/her pronouns//fem!reader in almost all of my fics!

the cold hallways of the university building aren't as big and intimidating as he remembered. and this time, they welcomed him with open arms. he was just a kid when he first set foot here, and now here he was, being invited by a member of his team to teach the young minds of college kids.

spencer reid had never been a great public speaker, sure, he had the qualities of one, but he was also known to ramble on and on about a specific subject if he was interested enough in it, most likely overwhelming and quite often scaring the class attendees.

he followed dr. blake through the crowded halls, she'd invited him along to one of her lectures, she needed someone with vast knowledge about, -well, everything-, and a quick mind, and he was the perfect addition to her classes.

it was weird, being on the other side of the lecture hall, with dozens of eyes set on him as he spoke, he wasn't nervous per se, more... aware of the situation. but luckily the students were focused, paid attention and asked good questions. he considered that a win in his book. without noticing, the 90 minute class was over, and he approached blake after gathering his things and crossing his signature leather bag over his shoulder.

"ready to head back?" he asked.

"not quite, there's a friend of mine giving a lecture next door, it's her first class, actually. thought we'd stop by for a bit, wish her good luck." she said, sliding her black blazer back on.

"sure, what's it about?"

"you'll see. i think you'll enjoy it." she gave him a sly smile, making her way up the steps, he stood there for a second, wondering what the subject might be. there were a lot of things that he enjoyed, physics, math, science.

spencer caught up to her just as she opened the door to the other lecture hall, sliding in behind alex as his eyes adjusted to the change of lighting. compared to the room they'd just left, this felt nothing like a classroom. it felt more like a theater.

the lights were off, the room being lit up by fake candles lining both sets of steps on each side of the room, and he noticed real candles on the front stage, the flames dancing with the subtle change of pressure as a girl, maybe as young as he was, walked on stage. a book in her hand, but she didn't need it, whatever she was saying was from memory, the worlds flowing effortlessly out her mouth.

he stood frozen in his spot, it took him two seconds to recognize and figure out what was going on.

"lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass. what does it matter that i couldn’t keep her. the night is fractured and she is not with me." she recited, eyes closed as she stopped walking, even from his spot at the top of the steps he could see her facial expression, a frown on her face as her eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed as if she was the one feeling the pain the author was describing.

neruda. poetry.

spencer had never been the biggest fan of poetry, but maybe he just hadn't found the right person to teach him about it.

what an incredulous thought, someone teaching a subject to genius spencer reid? but he couldn't help but be drawn to the soft voice that spoke with love, sorrow and rhythm.

"my voice tried to find the breeze to reach her. another’s kisses on her, like my kisses. her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes."

she was savoring each word in her tongue, and spencer's ears perked up at every sound that left her mouth.

"wonder boy, come on," alex's whisper brought him out of his thoughts, as he followed her down the candlelit steps to one of the first rows.

how he wished he could've stayed up there, hidden within the shadows, since he couldn't take two steps without his eyes having to find the young lecturer again, slowing down his legs.

but from down there he noticed the way the candles lit her face, casting a soft golden glow, and now he found himself thanking the small flames scattered around the stage.

she threw the two fbi agents a look, a knowing gleam in her eye as she recognized the female doctor. it was fleeting, she didn’t let the interaction distract her from the verses and the words slipping from her lips.

“loving is so short, forgetting is so long,” she breathed the words, barely audible as she felt every syllable in every bone of her body.

as she finished the poem, deafening silence fell upon the room, and spencer realized how quiet the room had been since he arrived, yet her soft voice seemed to fill it effortlessly.

“has anyone here ever felt emotions as strong as the ones depicted in the poem? joy, sadness, anger?” she asked, somehow leaving aside the ‘character’ she’d slipped into as she recited the words written by neruda. “love? has anyone ever experienced this… deep, unshakeable need to absolutely possess someone? to keep them all for your own, locked in a room to look, touch, admire as much as you wish?” she continued, eyes scanning the room, and spencer’s breathing hitched when she placed her eyes on him. “i know how it sounds like, but- poetry and language, is quite possibly the best way to express those intense feelings.”

“what about sex?” a voice from the crowd asked.

“that’s a great way too,” she nodded, laughing along with the class, “but have you ever stood in front of a girl, a boy, a person you truly feel like you’d die for, and told them exactly that? how just the touch of their hand holding someone else’s would rip your soul out of your body, or how you’d swim oceans just to get to hear their laugh one last time? i don’t know about you, but i feel like that’s a hundred times better than sex.” she continued, walking from one side of the stage to the other, using her hands and changing the tone in her voice to emphasize what she wanted to say. “i promise you that by the end of this semester you’ll be able to put all of that into your own words. read, everyone. please, read and do your research, and i promise you that you’ll get your chance to be neruda, dickinson. anybody can be a poet. poetry is about feelings, thoughts, the things that keep you up at night, and being able to put all of that into words. read, even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, but think about what they want to say. i know it’s our first class but i’ll leave you some work for friday. just pick a poem, learn it and present it here, i want to see what we’re working with. that’s it for today, thank you.” she vowed her head like an actor who’d just finished a play, walking around the stage as she blew the candles off.

“come on, let’s go say hi,” alex stood up, prompting spencer to do the same, and he had to swallow the feelings inside of him. his mind repeating every word the girl onstage had just said. he knew the importance of poetry, he had a few favorite poets, and he knew about all the hard technical work that was behind writing a good poem, but he’d never taken the time to think about the personal aspect of the work.

“dr. blake, great to see you here,” she greeted the older woman, who embraced her in a hug.

“you too. you were great there, no one would’ve thought it was your first time teaching,”

“well, what can i say, i learned everything from you.”

“please, our fields are as far apart as they could be. it’s all thanks to that big brain of yours. which, speaking of, meet dr. spencer reid, we work together.” alex stepped aside, revealing a tall man, hands fidgeting with his leather bag and long strands of hair covering his forehead. alex always had a soft spot for spencer, the young genius reminded her of herself, once upon a time.

“pleasure to meet you, dr. reid,” the young girl smiled at him, offering her hand.

“likewise,” he said, taking her hand in his. alex’s eyebrows raised, she’d been expecting a speech about germs and pathogens but got none.

“so, what’d you think? was it too much? think i scared the kids?”

“today’s youth doesn’t take things too seriously, they prefer one night stands and lack of commitment.” spencer explained.

“think i’m reaching for the stars for trying to get them to channel their emotions and actually feel them?” the young professor asked him, a smile on her face told him that she’d already thought about that.

“not necessarily, studies have proven that people who can feel and acknowledge their emotions are happier, live longer and have better relationships with themselves and others. also, they have more confidence in themselves and can make lasting relationships, but physical and emotional.” he continued, and this time dr. blake spoke.

“so if you do your job right you’ll get lots of people laid,”

“ah, if only i could make that work for me,” she replied, heat creeping onto her cheeks as she looked down. her words made spencer stop breathing.

“i’m sure someone with your wits and… well, you could get anyone you want,” the words slipped out before he could control them.

“sounds easier said than done, but i’ve decided to devote my life to my work and books, and there doesn’t seem to be anyone coming anytime soon to change that. i’m alright with that, life is more than that.” she shrugged her shoulder.

“not enjoyment, and not sorrow, is our destined end or way; but to act, that each tomorrow find us farther than today.” spencer recalled from memory.

“you speak my language, doctor,” the young professor breathed. and the older woman took the opportunity to interfere.

“like i said, genius. you two should talk, he’s got a very interesting brain that i’m sure you’d love to pick,” she reached toward her friend, wrapping her in a quick hug, “i’ll meet you out there, reid, i have a few things to do.” with that she walked out of the lecture hall, leaving the two young brilliant minds together.

“sorry about her, she’s been trying to set me up with someone since we met. i was her t.a back when i was a grad student.”

“you worked with her?” spencer asked, internally rolling his eyes at himself, she’d obviously just stated that.

“yup. i know, how could someone go from linguistics applied in criminology to poetry? it’s a big leap, but… she’s helped me more than anyone in my entire career.” she spoke with fondness in her voice. “anyway, she was right. i would love to pick that brain of yours.” she said, “sorry, that sounded weird, but-”

“no, no, it’s- fine. i- i’d like to talk to you, more, as well.”

“it’s a date, then.” she smiled, even wider when she noticed the slight blush creeping on his cheeks,

“if only i could recollect it, such a day of days. i let it come and go as traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; it seemed to mean so little, meant so much-” spencer started, the words taking over his mind and mouth before he could even think about it.

“if only now i could recall that touch, first touch of a hand in hand- did one but know,” she finished for him.

“i-i,” he started, surprising himself by the way he stuttered. “i don't speak your language, not like you do, not yet. i'm not a poet. but… i want to learn… i want to.”

she breathed out, all the air leaving her lungs, his wild eyes scanned all over her face, not profiling. but learning, taking in her cues, and a pressure left his shoulders when she saw her lips twitching, breaking for a smile.

“i may be the writer, but you'll always be the words.” she took a step toward him, his eyes settling for her own, it helped him calm down. “it's like i said, anybody can be a poet.”

“i-i’ll see you friday?” he said.

“friday?” she raised her eyebrows.

“yeah, you-you said you had to see what you're working with?”

“i do.” she nodded, a playful gleam in her eyes, “i guess i’ll see you friday. we can get coffee, before coming here.” she suggested.

“is that special treatment, professor?” one more time, he surprised himself by the way he spoke to her, like it was the most natural thing to do. we wished it never stopped, he wanted to hear her amused laugh again.

“maybe.” she bit her lip as she laughed.

****

“this could be the start of something new, and it feels so right to be here with you.”

-high school musical