#just pick the place that has the least old white people in it and you're solid

[acosmicbee]

Dangerous Man

500 Follower Celebration - Day 5

(Castle In The Sky inspired! Is it obvious I love Studio Ghibli or what? TWS: Reader gets drugged, brief vomiting towards the end)

Working in the mines was hard, labor intensive work. Luckily, you weren't actually a miner, but you spent a lot of time keeping everything else up and running and helping wherever you were needed. It was a great way to pick up random skills.

It was the end of another long day. You had already waved your boss out, knowing he had a daughter to get home to who hadn't seen her dad all day. You had been the last one to leave, only half paying attention as you walked along the forest, heading towards town.

It was strange, completely random. You thought you were hallucinating for a when you saw a something stumble out of the woods in front of you. It was a girl, who then promptly collapsed, leaving you to rush to catch her before she hit the ground..

You were an orphan, your mother died in childbirth and your father had disappeared on an adventure when you were 8. Despite that, you were never alone. The townspeople looked after you and you always had enough to get by, they made sure you learned to never abandon a person in need if you could help. Because of this, you didn't hesitate to bring the girl home. You lay the girl down in your father's old room, making sure she was tucked in and safe before heading to bed yourself. Hopefully when she woke up she'd be able to answer your questions.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You yawned as you cooked breakfast, never truly used to waking up so early in the morning. The food was nothing fancy, just some eggs with a bit of sausage you had left over. You made two plates, one for yourself and one for the mysterious floating girl. You gently knocked on the door before entering, seeing her awake and sitting up.

"You're awake. I was worried after whatever it was that happened last night you might be out for longer." You handed her the plate.

"What happened? And where am I? Who are you?" She carefully took the plate but didn't touch anything. You sighed.

"I'm Y/N. You're currently in the town of Shipp's Ravine, a small mining town no ones ever heard of out by the coast in the middle of nowhere." You introduced lightly. It wasn't wrong, hardly anyone who wasn't from here or somewhere close by had ever heard of this place. "As for what happened, you kinda just stumbled out of the woods."

"I'm... Poppy. I come from... far away. The airship stopped to refuel and... I ran for it." Poppy answered, talking slow as she tried to remember what happened.

"An airship? We don't get much airship traffic around here. You must have walked really far, the nearest airship dock isn't for three towns over, and it's military run." You said. Poppy grimaced.

"The military can't help me." She eventually answered. "Not with why I ran."

"Why? Did you do something? Are you a criminal?" She shook her head before taking another small bite. That made you pout a little. Secretly harboring a criminal would've brought some much needed excitement to your life and she seemed nice enough.

"This man he kidnapped me. He's working with the military, or at least he has connections with them. I know he's probably using every contact he has to try and find me." She said. You perked back up, your interest and excitement piqued.

"Well if you're trying to hide, Shipp's Ravine is the perfect place. Trust me, very few people even know this place exists! You'll be safe here."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hummed as you skipped down the path, waving hello and greeting everyone you passed. You were heading out to buy some more food for dinner having taken a day off to talk to Poppy.

You were halfway to the market when you spotted him. A man with long blond hair in a clean white suit. Next to him were two armed guards. You cursed under your breath as you picked your way through the crowd, trying your best not to stand out.

Of course it didn't work as you were tapped on the shoulder. You turned around with a bright smile, tilting your head in mock curiosity at the outsiders trying to talk to you. "Excuse me, have you seen a young girl? Maybe around your age-?"

"Yeah! There's Lisa, Diana, Gianna, Lily, Winona..." You started to list off all the names of village girls you could think of who fit the description. The man shook his head.

"Her name is Poppy. She has fiery red hair and bright green eyes. Face covered in freckles." You shook your head.

"Nope! The only girls who fit that description would be Mrs. June's daughters but they're both under 7. Anything else I can do for you?" The man shook his head.

"No thank you. Good day."

"You too sir!" You answered, extra cheerily before continuing your shopping. You couldn't leave empty handed without drawing suspicion as to why.

The second you were done, and out of view of the main square, you booked it. You ran up the path, basket clutched in your hand. Poppy jumped when you slammed open the door, shutting it quickly behind you as you drew the curtains shut.

"The man who kidnapped you, does he have long blond hair? Gray eyes?" You asked, the second you dead bolted the door. Poppy froze.

"He's- he's here?" She whispered.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I have an idea. I have a friend who works at the rail station. I'll get us tickets somewhere in countryside, somewhere even more rural and out of the way. But until then stay here. Avoid the windows and don't answer the door. If you're okay with it, I can cut your hair shorter so you pass as a boy."

Poppy agreed to let you cut her hair so you'd made sure to wash it out nicely before you started. You'd been cutting your own hair for a while, so you made it look as nice as possible. She didn't seem to mind too much and you even caught her smiling at herself in the mirror later.

"It's nice not having to worry about brushing it for hours and hours." She eventually told you. "I wish I had cut it sooner. Maybe you could get a new job as a hair dresser."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The day you left was the day you heard that the military had been getting warrants to search the villager's houses for Poppy. You'd already been dropping hints about taking a vacation so it wouldn't come as a surprise if you left for a little.

You ran around your house, gathering only the most important things. You burned Poppy's dress, shoving her into some clothing you'd bought that was clearly meant for a boy. Once you had those all packed away you handed one of the clothing bags to Poppy.

"It'll help you blend in if we're both carrying stuff. Until we're safely on the train I'll call you Pierre, okay?" She nodded, pulling down her cap more as you walked to the station. The train station was empty and you were able to get a private room for a discounted price for the two of you, all paid in cash. The energy was tense until the train had pulled out of the station.

It was a long trip, one that would stretch through the night and into the next day. You and Poppy entertained yourselves with card games and books and other random things until it had gotten dark out. You went to bed feeling safe, drifting off easily to the gentle rocking of the train.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was late -- or was it early? -- when you heard the door to your cabin open. In your half asleep state, curled beneath one of your mother's quilted blankets that you'd brought, you assumed it was Poppy. Maybe she needed air or to go to the bathroom.

You could vaguely make out a silhouette of someone with long hair. Convinced it was Poppy you rolled back over, but the door never closed and the lantern light in the hallway made it difficult to fall back asleep. You yawned, finally deciding to get up and see what she needed when your blood ran cold.

Poppy didn't have long hair anymore because you had cut it. Poppy couldn't be standing in the doorway because you had seen her asleep on the other bench when you opened your eyes.

T h a t   w a s n ' t   P o p p y.

A sudden pinch at the base of your neck made you whine in pain. You rolled over, trying to stand, only for your legs to give out. You never hit the floor, silently being laid back down as you tried to force your body to work.

The man, the same one from the marketplace, shushed you gently as he watched you try to fight the drug. Your eyesight was blurring, your brain turning to mush and you couldn't move. You passed out right as he turned to Poppy, still blissfully asleep across from you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to a faint humming noise. Your stomach turned unpleasantly and you felt feverish and nauseous. Where you were laying was comfortable though. You were warm and it was soft. You wondered what had woken you up when you finally registered someone shaking you.

Opening your eyes to the dark room you saw Poppy, face covered in tears. She hugged you the second you awoke, crying into your chest. Looking around and letting your eyes adjust to the darkness you realized why. This wasn't your home, nor was it the train car. It looked like the fancy rooms advertised for rich people on airships.

"Poppy?" You whispered weakly. She held you tighter, still silently crying. You looked around noting anything that could be important. It was a large room with two beds, one of which you were laying on. There was a small heater in the middle of the room as well as a table and chairs. Your bags were placed on the table, including your mother's quilts which were neatly folded.

There was a small window in the room, barred from the outside, not that it would do anything seeing as the only view out the window was clouds and the night sky. You looked towards the door, ignoring the way your head spun. It must be a side affect of whatever he'd drugged you with, this lethargy and pseudo-sickness.

"It's locked. Everything is." Poppy whispered to you. "I'm so sorry Y/N. I never meant for you to get caught up in this."

Both of you turned at the sound of voices in the hallway outside the locked door. There was the sound of a key before the lock finally clicked open. It was the man, holding a small oil lamp. He was no longer in the white suit but in some kind of lounge wear, possibly some kind of rich person pajamas you'd never even heard of.

"You're both awake. I'm glad the drugs finally wore off, I was getting a bit worried. Then again, they were military grade sedatives." He smiled calmly, almost like he was trying to be comforting. He was dangerous, no amount of smiling would change that.

"Where are we? What did you do?" You asked. You cursed your voice for not only betraying your fear but also your compromised state.

"Y/N L/N, the beloved orphan of Shipp's Ravine. I asked around about you after our little interaction at the market. The townspeople really love you there, it's a shame you won't be going back. As for lying to me, we can discuss the repercussions of that later."

"Let them go! They never did anything to you! This has always been about me, you don't need to drag them into this as well!" Poppy yelled. The man just chuckled, approaching the both of you.

"My sweet, naïve, little Poppy. You trust so easily and you're lucky this time it turned out well for you. Imagine if you'd been found by some creep instead of some poor child playing adult who wanted nothing but companionship in return." He said, and you didn't even have the strength to be offended at his description of you.

"As for them not doing anything to me, they lied to me. Albeit, they did so to protect you, which is just so precious. It made he change my mind on what should happen to them. Rest assured, they will be cared for, just as you will be cared for. You'll finally have the sibling you always dreamed of."

"Just because you kidnapped us together doesn't make us siblings! This isn't some heartfelt family reunion!" The man smiled and tilted his head.

"Oh, but wouldn't it? I happen to have a letter from the commander of the royal military, which makes it more than just simple law. Would you like me to read it to you?" He held it out of reach when Poppy tried to snatch it from him, a satisfied smirk on his face. "It says, 'Seeing as Y/N L/N and Poppy Demonium lack legal guardians as both parents are either deceased or missing, I, General Kingston Grant hereby give all legal guardianship to one Caspian LaRue.'"

Those words proved to be the final straw for your stomach as you hunched over, gagging as you threw up on the floor beside you before slumping over onto Poppy.

"Oh dear. I suppose I should've guessed that such a large dose would've been too much for your body to handle." He murmured. You could only cry as you closed your eyes, trying to stabilize yourself.

You didn't even know when he'd called in cleaning staff, but they were already there when you opened your eyes again, leaving quickly once it had been dealt with. Poppy cradled your body close, protectively glaring at Caspian when he approached the bed and sat down beside you.

"You'll feel better in the morning. We can have a real talk then. Good night Y/N." He brushed some of your sweat stuck hair off your forehead before turning to Poppy. "Good night, Poppy. Sleep well."

He turned to leave, grabbing his oil lamp from where he'd set it, when a small smile crossed his face as he stood in the doorway. "Poppy, short hair suits you. Even if you did cut it for a silly reason." With that, the door closed and locked behind him and the two of you were left alone in the dark to ponder your new lives.

[pennyserenade]

i love being mexican. i know i say that a lot but its because i really fucking love that i'm mexican

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

[joontroverted]

of course other women want your boyfriend

pairing: nanami kento x reader

tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.

"your dad's kinda hot."

the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.

you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.

no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.

and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.

"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.

her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"

you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.

"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"

"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.

"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.

that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.

"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"

"there you are, sweetheart."

kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.

nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.

almost.

"ken!" you breathe.

"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"

"hey!"

his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"

"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.

"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"

"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.

"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.

"sweetheart, i think- "

you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.

"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"

"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.

"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."

she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.

kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.

"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"

aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.

you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.

"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."

his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.

deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.

kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.

"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."

warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.

"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.

aiko!

you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"

aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.

DO NOT REPOST

yay first fic!!!

likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷

[saidinpassing]

pocketful of sunshine, s. reid

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

in which, spencer valiantly defends your honor. as best as he can, at least. it's cute, i promise.

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

trope: whimsy!reader x spencer, coworkers/friends

warnings: no smut, fluff, comfort, honorable mention of spencer's hands, defensive spencer, asshole cop wc: 2.34k

summary: The BAU cases are always dark, but you're like a little pocket of wonder in the chaos — always carrying odd little trinkets for good luck, quoting poetry at random, and doodling stars in the margins of case files. Spencer tries to act unaffected, but he starts picking up the habits too: absentmindedly quoting literature back, carrying a lucky coin you gave him, and smiling when he sees your sketches. Of course, being a glowing pillar of light in most rooms has its downs.

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

You like the concept of tarot cards. It gives you a good sense of control, of stability in a job that tends to try and make things tumble out of their place, a way to have hopes for destiny. If you believe in that sort of sentiment. It stops the books from flying off the shelf. The awakening engine of the jet snaps you out of your thoughts as you raise your attention from the tarot cards sitting untouched in your palm. It's only a bit jarring, as always; planes startle you a bit. Emily sits across from you, book in hand, although you can tell she's not reading it. She's already falling asleep, the absent hum in the background serving as white noise for her napping. You flip through the tarot cards, brow furrowed in concentration as you turn three of the top ones over. The Lovers, the Fool, and The Hermit. The Fool's upside down. Hopefully that's not a bad thing. You slip the cards back into their respective places in the deck and pop up to get a coffee, careful not to bump Emily as you shuffle down the aisle. It's getting humid outside--condensation creeping up on the windows and clinging for dear life--you don't doubt it'll start raining soon.You're just about to pour your steaming hot black coffee when Spencer materializes behind you, and you almost spill all of it on yourself. "Crap! Spencer, what're you doing?"

He smiles apologetically, sheepishly. "Sorry, I--um, I was just wondering if we had any sugar." He holds up his own coffee mug, a black one with a cat on the front.

You sigh, handing him the mini sugar packet. "Don't apologise, some people just tread lightly. Scarily so, apparently." You smile back reassuringly. He nods, not moving away as you stir your coffee. You can feel his eyes on the back of your head. "So..." Oh, no, I've said the dreaded conversation opener. Don't panic, your charm will save you. If I even have any. He watches you intently, taking a sip from his coffee. He looks just about as if he'll hang onto your every word. It's making you nervous, and maybe it's making your face hot too, but you hope the lights are dim enough for it to be unnoticeable.

"What're the details of the case?" You finish up the coffee combo, turning so you're leaned against the back of the wooden counter.

He jumps into action, the awkwardness easing up as he shares details. "Looks like a 30-year old female victim, 27 year old male, about 23 stab wounds to the chest, arms and abdomen."

"Wow. That sounds...angry. Rage induced, I mean." You correct yourself, wincing mentally at the wording. You're smart, really smart, you just tend to forget technological terms in front of him.

"It looks like it." He hums as you both head back to the seats, sinking down across from one another in the leather. "The MO wasn't vehemently consistent, except for one thing." He pauses for dramatic effect. You nod, prompting him to go on as you cup your coffee mug in your hands.

"Crows."

You blink, tilting your head inquisitively. "...crows?" He nods rapidly. "Yeah, crows, carved in by the stabbing. As far as I've deduced, it matches up with an old poem about the meanings of amounts of crows. One for sorrow, one for birth, and so on.""Huh." Shuffling the tarot cards, you cross your legs. "So our unsub's intelligent. Maybe he thinks of himself like a poet?"

Spencer's shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "It's too early to tell. It's a message, that's for sure." That sentence catches you a little off guard. Usually Spencer's determined to figure things out, determined to do everything he can to work out a puzzle as baffling as this one. But for some reason, he's quieter. More sullen, in a way.

You're not one for frowning, but one crosses your features anyways. "You okay?" He looks as if he's been caught, raising his brows and making a soft, dismissive noise. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just haven't slept too much."

Of course he'd say that. You're still worried, but nonetheless exhausted from the day. It's always a good idea to catch a nap on the jet.

"You should just sleep through the flight. We both should, catch some Z's."

That wording just about makes you pinch yourself in frustration. You keep saying stupid things around him, and you're still not sure why to this day. All you know is that it annoys you severely. As you both drift off into a half-awake half-asleep state, you're too delirious to note the almost frivolous, unnoticeable detail of Spencer holding your lucky coin between his fingers as you fall asleep.

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ When the jet hits Georgia, it apparently wants to hit you too. You're woken from the peaceful slumber by the turbulence, disoriented and bleary as you peek out the window. God, it's sunny. Too sunny for sensitive morning eyes. Nonetheless, a sense of your usual hope fills you as you peek out the window, think of a short sacrament to the sun and let her continue her slow burning of the Earth.

Spencer wakes up across from you as well, his expression adorably confused as he blinks. You observe. Wonder how his under eyes always stay the same hue of dark grey, then you go back to pedantically staring out the window. Apparently you two (with the exception of Hotch--does he ever sleep?) are early birds. The team's still dozing. Your eyes wander back over to him eventually, spotting the coin in his hand. "Hey, you kept it." He tucks his hair back behind his ear then smiles, just a little. "Oh. Yeah, I did. I don't usually believe in luck, but it's kept me safe so far." The words make something grossly warm and sticky build up in your chest and you snort, putting on your best 'newsperson' voice. "Rare sighting. A man of science carries a lucky coin." Spencer laughs. God, that's a pleasant sound. It's about just as sweet as he takes his coffee. There's a comfortable silence for a little period of time, just the two of you sitting there. Unsure of what to do or say. As you sit there, you end up watching the movement of his fingers around the coin. Flip. Flip again. You've always been somewhat aware of his dexterity, but just silently watching him now brings heat to your face. Nimble fingers, neat fingernails and ridges between his knuckles that you just want to trace with your own touch. Of course, said silence is eventually broken by Garcia's chirping tone. "Good morning, good morning, my loves, I am souped up on five coffees and feeling amazing." There's a collective groan between JJ and Morgan. Derek rubs his forehead, sitting up from the visually uncomfortable-looking position he'd taken on the couch as they start to land. "Babygirl, there are better ways to wake us up than singing in our ears." "Derek Morgan, if we were alone right now, I can assure you I'd be waking you up differently." Garcia jokes in her usual sultry tone, their casual friendly flirting making both you and Spencer roll your eyes. It's another three minutes before the others come to, and another five before they've drunk enough coffee for them to be able to profile efficiently. The little TV lights up with Garcia's face again, and she smiles. "I return, bearing less of a zapped, coffee-fuelled mind. Let's get into it." After you all go over the details of the case, discussing patterns in the signature and the whole crow thing Spencer mentioned before, you get off the jet with your go-bags. "It's bright." Is the first thing you can muster, cupping your hand above your eyes to avoid the harsh glare of the sun.

"Really bright." Reid adds on, frowns on both your faces. You get a little pouch out of your bag, picking out the gem of the day. Alexandrite. Brings balance, and luck. Also, it's pretty. The greeny-purple hues glimmer a bit in the sunlight as you turn it over.

"Let's get moving." Hotch says firmly, the rest of the team tagging behind albeit in a fatigued manner. It's going to be a long drive. `✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ The station is quiet, it's the first thing you notice. Except for the papers rustling about, the typing, and scattered talking, it's not as busy as you'd expect it to be in a place that's currently rampant with serial killings. Spencer looks mildly horrified at the state of some of the officer's desks. "Do they not sanitize? There are at least over 10 million bacteria on a standard office desk." "Spence, I don't even think they sanitize their hands." You comment, noting the intern in the corner eating his takeout and typing. The expression on the genius' face after seeing it is comical. You almost want to laugh, but you're reminded it genuinely disturbs him, so you're just left giving him a brief, reassuring shoulder pat.

Ah, yes, the shoulder pat. The one form of human bodily communication cue your hand just itches to choose in pretty much any conversation. It's a problem, frankly. He doesn't seem to mind too much, anyways. Your hand drops from the fabric of his cardigan as you enter the tiny briefing room they have set up. It's a little more accommodating; a nicer table. "Okay, what do we know?" Hotch crosses his arms, letting the team file things away in their heads. You squint and focus on every aspect of the photos propped up on the board, your mind sharpening. Crows. Your thoughts fall down that rabbit-hole again, the interest peaking a bit. On this particular body, there are six. Six for gold. You can't understand the sentiments of the act at the moment, or at least, not the connections that the unsub was thinking of when he carved specifically six. If that was the intention, that is. "The MO isn't consistent with that of an organized killer but he's still careful enough not to leave behind DNA or anything obvious. Just obvious things on the bodies." Spencer pipes up, explaining his crow theory to the group a little excitedly. It's cute to watch from a different perspective.

A burly man--who you assume is the higher-up here--approaches Hotch with a firm handshake and a nod. A very, very quick moment passes between the two. A silent sharing of thoughts, if you will, and you just notice it before it's gone as if it was never there at all. Then introductions, and when Hotchner gets to you, the old man looks a bit...baffled? Maybe the better term is nonplussed. Flummoxed. Either way, he's looking at you like you're a different species. Your way of dressing, the trinkets and odd bits n' bobs pinned to your pants. It's not like you're unused to this sort of reaction. He's just sort of...pushing it. Making a hyperbole out of something that's not even a sentence at all. Then again, he seems like the type of guy to get annoyed with someone for licking an envelope wrong, so you just give him a blank stare back. "You're a bit...unorthodox." The officer raises a brow. You squint, unsure of how to reply. You're usually loquacious, but when it comes to backhanded insults you sort of just...shut up. The team seems stumped as well, but not pleased either way. "She's a valuable asset to the team." Hotch says stoically, tone flat. You just stand there. You're sick of this. Not the comments, but the wasting time. What if someone else is being murdered right now? And this station is what, sitting around eating Thai food and waiting for a saint to show up and fix their problems? It doesn't work like that, not in your head. The officer seems to like talking. "Well, I know, she probably is, but does the FBI really let its agents dress like that?" He makes a gesture to you with his hand. You eventually take a brief look over at Spencer, and it puts you into a state of momentary shock when you see he's bristling, jaw wound tight and frown creasing his brow. "She's good at her job, how she dresses isn't relevant, I think you'll find." The usually socially aversive doctor doesn't hesitate to shut down the chief's observations, brushing past him so he can get to the pin board. "I think we should review the crime scene instead of talking about things that aren't important at all." You raise both eyebrows. Okay, this is weird. Spencer's still going over the board, but it's obvious enough that he's not pleased. His mind is racing about two million miles a second as he tries to take his mind off that idiot who thought it'd be okay to try put you down, even mildly. Eventually when things have calmed down a bit, you sidle up next to him, peeking up at the board and pointing out a few small things. He lets out a huff of air, relaxing a bit at your presence. More pointing, then two or three infodumps later, he turns to you. "Are you alright?" He peers into your eyes with his own brown ones. They're like actual melted chocolate, so inviting and addicting. Like little chestnut pools of dopamine. You snap out of it so you can answer his question. "Oh, right. I'm fine. Little peeved, but fine." His brow furrows further as he observes, analysing your micro-expressions to judge whether you're actually okay or not. "You're sure?" You nod gently, leaning against the round wooden table propped in the middle of the room. "I'm sure, I'm fine." His hand hesitantly, very, very, hesitantly touches yours, another smile on his face, this one more embarrassed and trying to gauge your reaction so he'd doesn't mess up. "I need just one more confirmation to be sure. Think of it like a three-step verification, in a way." You sigh, little, pleasant pins and needles flickering up your arm in the form of goosebumps when he touches you. "I'm fine. There's number three." You take his lucky coin out of his pocket and hold it in front of him, your fingers intertwining with his in your free hand. "And, this can count as a number four." You're not sure what you mean or whether it makes sense, but Spencer can take that up with the universe later. "Sounds good to me." `✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴ a/n: PLEASE DONT HARRASS ME I WROTE THIS AT 1AM ON MY PERIOD WITH NO RELIEF I KNOW IT MIGHT NOT BE GOOD

`✦ ִֶˑ ִֶ𓂃⊹જ⁀➴

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin’ Way To Start The Day

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy,

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The morning begins the same way it always does, with your neighbor Mike blasting "I Will Always Love You" in his apartment at exactly 8 am just as he had each day since you met two years ago. It was the only constant in your life, but at least you didn't have to use an alarm clock anymore. The sound of Mike belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs was enough to wake everyone in the whole building, including the people on the eighth floor, five stories above him.

But because Mike bought the super’s probably illegally made cologne and because the super was dating Mike’s mother, something that made you regret supe hearing very much, it never stopped despite the numerous complaints.

Then again it was Annie's favorite thing about sleeping over, she liked to scream the lyrics back at the wall and jump on your bed like a crazy banshee. Honestly you hoped that it would stop after Ben had pretended to be your boyfriend, that Mike would finally figure it out and give up.

Guess not.

You sit up in your bed, stretching your hands over your head while humming the chorus under your breath, but you were more of an ABBA fan. If Mike had decided to serenade you with "Take A Chance On Me" or even Aretha Franklin's "You're All I Need to Get By," you might have looked at him differently.

The memory of the dream of his mullet smothering you in your sleep momentarily passes over your mind, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. Or maybe not.

Your bedroom was similar to your living room, covered in plants. Trailing jasmine and bougainvillea blanketed the wall behind your bed in deep red and white, budding lavender, lilac, and honeysuckle sat in pots along the top of your dresser, and a blush colored rose bush, that never went out of bloom, stood proudly in the corner. The only difference was that there were two large piles of books almost as tall as your ceiling, some old some new, braced beside the rose bush like Roman columns. You kept trying to remember to buy a bookshelf, but each time you thought about going to pick one up, Butcher usually called and asked you to help out. Both piles were covered almost completely in pothos and more hung from the brick walls above your only window, that opened the floor length pale yellow curtains with a flick of your hand.

An annoyed purring sound greets your ears as the honeyed light from the now open window wisps over your covers. Bean, your cat, stalks up from the end of the bed, his yellowed eyes narrowed with annoyance at being woken up so early while his charcoal gray coat turns lighter in the brilliant sunlight. Last night he had been in your bedroom when you got home, which meant that he hadn't been around Ben when he came in.

A good thing, because Bean hated just about everyone except Butcher, which you thought was weird. But whenever Butcher dropped by to talk to you Bean always came over to look for rubs, while hissing at anyone who tried to interrupt them. Hughie was actually afraid of Bean, and because Bean was a cat he immediately picked up on this and purposely would jump on the couch next to Annie so Hughie couldn't sit there, Bean also followed after Hughie to the bathroom and waited outside the door to swipe at his ankles whenever he would come out.

But you didn't love him any less.

He puts his paw on your thigh lightly extending his claws to get your attention.

"Oh are you talking to me now?" You smile, rubbing him behind the ears. "I thought you were angry because I woke you up?"

He purrs and pushes his chunky gray head against your hand, but startles when the song switches to "My Heart Will Go On" which causes Mike's mother to join in to his karaoke session.

I'd move if my apartment wasn't so damn cheap.

"Maybe they should take the show on the road. Huh buddy?"

Bean purrs his response while pushing his head further into your hand.

His mom wasn't that bad of a singer, in fact, you thought that you remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between her and the super when she talked about a career as a cabaret singer a while ago.

"Come on, let's see if Gramps killed any of my plants." You smile down at your cat. "If he did I'm going to turn him into a tree."

Bean purrs in agreement.

You get out of bed, adjusting your shirt back down over your shorts before walking to the door with Bean following behind you. You step out into the cool hallway, with more enthusiasm than usual as you try to escape the butchering of the Titanic's soundtrack and collide into something warm and wet.

It takes you exactly seven seconds to realize that the warm, wet, thing that your face is currently stuck to, is in-fact Ben's chest, his shirtless chest. Why he's standing in the hallway outside your door, soaking wet and wearing a towel you have no idea. All you know is that your face is physically laying against the warm flesh of his pectoral muscles.

"Why are you NAKED?" You scream as you peel yourself off of him and turn your gaze away. Your face felt so warm that it was like you'd been standing in front of a volcano for too long and you were sure that you had blushed to the roots of your hair.

You'd only seen him without his shirt on once, when the door to his bedroom was cracked at the apartment he shared with the rest of the group. But it was from the back and you had been walking by to go to the bathroom, and you hadn't looked…

Well, you may have stopped for a second to admire the powerful muscles on his muscular back and maybe thought about waiting for him to turn around so you could see if the front was as good as the back… but you hadn't.

And he certainly hadn't been soaking wet then, and it made you hate him more now, because no one should look as good as he does soaking wet. You personally knew that you looked like a drowned poodle whenever you stepped out of the shower, but him? Soldier Boy looks like he just finished filming a shampoo commercial.

You could see it in your head, him standing under a crystal blue waterfall with the water splashing against weathered rocks before running through his soft brown hair, curving around his broad shoulders, down his toned stomach straight down to his-

NO. Not gonna go there. You could feel your skin heating in embarrassment, almost as if you thought he could read your mind.

"I'm not naked doll, I mean I could be if you wanted me to." He smirks as he hears your heartbeat begin to pick up and reaches for the end of his towel. The towel that was almost too small to wrap around his waist and left very little to the imagination.

"NO!" You shout holding up a hand to stop him, but again brush the front of his chest.

Fuck, you could zest a lemon on those abs.

"Are you sure?" Ben smiles wider, taking a step forward. He's so close that you can smell your grapefruit mint shampoo on him and feel the humidity and warmth of his body as he stands there. For some reason the fact that he used your shampoo, and smelled like your soap, made you feel warm and tingly. It was almost hypnotic. You hated how much you liked it. "Because you're turning that cute little red color you always do whenever I'm around, and your heartbeat is kinda fast."

"No. I don't." You grit your teeth together. "Why are you standing outside of my door naked?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you to come out." His hand presses against the doorway next to your head. "You know, I already took a shower, but if you wanted I'd be happy to get back in with you."

"No thanks. I don't need a shower and I wouldn't shower with you if it was the last shower on earth and I hadn't bathed in forty years." You purse your lips. "Oh right, that happened to you."

Ben frowns at your mention of his time in Russia. You didn't often tease him about being trapped in a lab, you knew that it was a sore spot for him. Plus you'd seen the footage of exactly what those doctors did to him and it was enough to make you want to book a one way ticket to Russia and personally show them what happened when a tree got shoved up your ass.

You open your mouth to apologize.

"I was going to ask if you have any other clothes here. Mine are still wet from last night." He raises an eyebrow, but the humor is gone from his eyes.

"Oh. Um. I can take a look." You turn and walk into your bedroom, trying not to feel awkward about bringing up the lab.

He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve a reminder of how shitty the last forty years have been.

Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had anything that would fit him. Ben was a lot bigger than you, taller and broader. You usually did wear things that were a little big for you, but you didn't think that Ben would fit in any of them.

Maybe I have something from when my brother was here last time.

Darren often dropped by when he was in the city visiting his friends or had a new "business" venture. The ones that never seemed to last and the friends that always seemed happy to spend the moan you "loaned" him for his "best idea yet" as he always phrased it. But he hadn't been by in at least a year.

"It's really green in here too." You hear Ben say under his breath.

You didn't think that he was going to follow you into your room, you thought he was going to stay in the hallway, but no, he had followed you. And he made the room feel even smaller than it was with his broad shoulders and over six foot stature.

The sunlight from the window glinted off his still wet chest and it made your throat uncomfortably tight. For the love of chocolate pudding, WHY does he look so good all the time?

"You can wait in the hall-"

"Wanted to see your bedroom." He smirks. "Though I think that you wanted to show it to me last night-"

You ignore him and turn back to your chest of drawers while Mike and his mother switch to "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. You wince as they begin.

"Do they always do that?" Ben asks.

"Yep. Since I moved in." You sigh, shuffling through your t-shirts.

"He's really got it bad Sweetheart. Maybe you should throw him a bone. Kinda seems like the poor guy needs to get some ass-"

"If it's any of your business- which it's not- I do not like him that way."

"Well they're a little loud." You feel Ben take a step closer to you. "But I bet you and I could give them a run for their money. We are in your bedroom after all, might as well make the most of it."

"I didn't know that you liked Karaoke. I'll keep that in mind for you 105th birthday party."

"What? No I meant-"

Bean purrs loudly from his position on your bed and you wait for the telltale sound of Ben shooing him away when Bean tries to puncture Ben's impenetrable skin with his claws, but it doesn't come.

You glance over your shoulder. Are you kidding me?

Bean is sitting on your white plush comforter, rubbing up against Ben's hand, purring while Ben scratches him behind the ears.

Traitor.

"Didn't know you had a cat." Ben says continuing to stroke his hand down Bean's spine, who stands up and turns so Ben can have a better angle.

"I didn't peg you for a cat person. Kinda ruins the whole all-American Man image you have going on."

He shrugs. "I like dogs more, but I don't hate cats. Usually they don't like me very much."

"I wonder why that is." You grumble watching Bean lean into Ben's hand again. "His name is Bean."

"Bean? Why?"

"Because when I got him I was trying to grow green beans in the linen closet and he would sit outside the door and screech until I gave him a green bean to play with."

"You were trying to grow green beans in the linen closet?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea, but they like the bathroom more-" You finally find the oversized Led Zeppelin shirt your brother left the last time he crashed at your apartment and a pair of jeans. "A lot of my plants like the bathroom more actually."

"I was going to ask you why the bathroom floor and wall was squishy."

"It's moss. It thrives in humid environments." You hold out the clothes for him.

"Uh-huh." He frowns at the clothes for a minute. "So you're saying you wouldn't want a guy to serenade you like that?" Ben nods his head towards your bedroom wall, just as Mike and his mother begin to belt out the chorus. "Thought girls liked sappy shit."

"I'm not a fan of One Direction."

"Right. You like ABBA more." Ben turns towards your door to go back to the bathroom to change.

Shock momentarily spikes in your chest. "How did you know that?"

He freezes as if you caught him doing something bad, turning slightly towards you. "Um- well, you hum their songs a lot."

"When?" You cross your arms over your chest.

"Whenever you're on stake outs. Sometimes when you're reading those files or waiting for Annie at the apartment." He shrugs. “When you were walking last night you were humming ‘Fernando.’"

He noticed that?

"How long exactly were you following me?"

"Long enough." He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to keep me talking because you want me to change in here? Because I would be more than happy to drop this towel and show you what a real man looks like Sweetheart."

"Don't flatter yourself Gramps. If you drop that towel the only thing that'll happen is Bean will think you brought him a green bean to play with." You roll your eyes. "Now get out of my room. I have to change."

Ben begins to say something, but the vines hanging above the door push him out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

That felt good.

After you put on a white t-shirt, your favorite pair of jean overalls and your dark green converse, you make your way out into the living room. Ben is there, lounging on your couch like he owns it. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt you gave him, but you can't help but notice how the clothes are just a little too small for him. The way his muscles pull at the t-shirt, the way the jeans hug his thighs and butt-

He's getting way too comfortable here. You think to yourself to avoid the thought of how good he looks on your couch. How it almost feels natural that he's sitting here in your living room, inhabiting your space.

"So what's for breakfast doll face?" He leans his head back to gaze at you with a mischievous smile that makes a warm tingle travel down the length of your spine.

"Well, I'm going to have oatmeal and you're going to have whatever you want I guess?"

His eyes darken. "Whatever I want?"

"Calm down Gramps I meant that there's cereal in the cabinet." You roll your eyes to avoid thinking about the kiss last night and then thinking about how it felt for your body to be pressed against his in the hallway when you ran into him.  Which inevitably leads back to the waterfall fantasy and-

No. No. Not going to do that. Not with him. He's just good at getting women into bed, he doesn't care about you. You think about how he remembered that you liked ABBA. That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't see me as anything more than a conquest and he probably remembered that because he's changing tactics and trying not to act like a creep.

“You’re not going to pour me a bowl?” His smirk pulls down in an attractive pout.

“I think it’s simple enough for your little brain to do.” You don’t turn around from the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a raspberry from the refrigerator and popping it in your mouth. For some reason you noticed that whatever you grew tasted better than anything you bought at the grocery store. You hoped that it didn’t mean that your powers supercharged whatever you grew and that it was actually radioactive or something. 

Because that’s exactly what I need, to turn bright green. 

“There’s nothing little about me doll.” 

“Can’t you ever have a conversation with someone without it revolving around sex?” You grumble banging around in your cabinets to find your instant oatmeal. 

It was a valid point and you were tired of getting whiplash every time Ben acted caring and then flipping back to horny manchild.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ben laughs. He stands from the couch and makes his way into your kitchen.

It was hard not to notice how small each room in your apartment looked with him in it. His head was only a foot below the ceiling, not to mention the kitchen was only composed of six cabinets, a small sink, a microwave shoved into a corner, a stove top, and a refrigerator that only came up to Ben’s shoulders. Your bathroom was worse, sometimes the shower was small even for you and you didn’t know how Ben fit in there. 

He probably had to duck down to stand under the shower head. 

And then as you thought that, the image of Ben standing under a waterfall comes creeping back, making the strawberry plant on top of the fridge, the raspberry vines, and the blackberry vines covering your refridgerator burst into bloom.

Thankfully Ben didn’t notice, because he was rooting through the white top cabinet in the corner for one of the cereal boxes. 

I’d never hear the end of it if he saw that happen. 

You glare at the plants in question, eyes shifting to a deep green as the flowers develop into fresh fruit to cover your slip. 

Ben pulls out a box of Lucky Charms, but frowns at Lucky on the front cover, who is throwing a handful of marshmallow charms into the air around him. 

Guess he's not a fan.

 “If I’d known you were going to sleep on my couch I would have gotten Bran flakes and prunes for you.” You smirk as you pour water over the oats in the bowl before placing it in the microwave to cook. “I know people your age need that kind of thing sometimes. Gets the bowel moving.”

“Make fun of my age all you want.” Ben steps around you to grab the almost empty bottle of milk from your refrigerator. “One day you’ll be happy to find out just how experienced I am.”

“Keep dreaming.”

His dark eyes meet yours. “You’re all I dream about baby.”

You can feel his breath on the side of your neck from how close he is to you, the kitchen seems smaller than it ever has, and he leans forward, sensing your hesitation. One of his hands goes on the kitchen counter to your right, the other places the milk down and then braces on the counter to your left caging you against him. 

“Do any of your lines actually work?” You say, throat tight.

“You’d be surprised.” He smirks wider, green eyes sliding up and down your body. 

 The air in the kitchen electrifies, something passing through the air between the two of you that makes you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. His eyes are softer green now, reminding you of the color of fresh leaves on an oak tree in spring, bright, strong, and full of life. His body is pressed gently against yours, the strong muscles of his abdomen laying on your hips, muscular arms making sure that you don't walk away.

You try not to think again about how good he looks in your apartment, how calm and relaxed he seems when he’s away from Butcher and not wearing his uniform. 

Standing here in your apartment, he looked normal, human. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were, when you could do what you did, when you saw him get hit with a car and shove it away with one hand. 

He was still ridiculously attractive, the kind of attractive that you’d read in romance novels and in classic Roman literature, the kind of beautiful that people wrote poetry about, the kind of ruggedly handsome that made smart girls stupid. 

You were really feeling that last one. Because you were desperately trying to hold on to your dream of being with someone that understood every part of you, but Ben was making it hard.

It wasn’t that the idea of sleeping with him was terrible. It wasn’t. It was far from terrible it was the idea of having sex without feelings that you didn’t like. You didn’t want to sleep with him because you knew that he only saw you as something to be possessed not as an equal or someone he cared about. Soldier Boy only cared about himself, that was apparent.

He’s only interested in you because you haven’t given in. You think to yourself. It's all about the thrill of the chase, nothing else. I'm worth more than that. I'm worth more than one night.

“In fact, I think it’s working on you doll.” Ben leans down towards you so close you can feel his words in the air between your faces, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say no.

That made you pause. Ben didn’t seem to be the type of man who was patient. You’d walked in on him making out with numerous women on the couch back at the apartment he shared with the rest of the team, saw how he took control, saw how he didn’t seem to wait for them to say no or really say anything at all. Not to mention one time when you walked into the shared apartment and could hear Ben with one of his "dates" in his bedroom. Nothing about that seemed patient at all.

But this Ben standing in your kitchen was different. He was almost smiling, dark hair still damp from the shower curling on his forehead, the t-shirt damp around the collar, jeans a dark blue, and the smell of your shampoo fills your senses again all over again. It made you wish for this person all the time. The one that you could see yourself falling in love with, not the racist, sexist, and inappropriate jerk that seemed to dominate his persona at all other parts of the day.

Funny, the only time you’d ever seen Ben like this, was when the two of you were alone- well sometimes- other times he annoyed you without end and made you want to jump out a window. 

But why? Why only around me?

The feeling in your chest grows. It jumps from synapse to synapse, pulses along your skin, buzzes in your blood, tangles through your hair, and radiates through the air like a sound wave. Your eyes drift down to his lips remembering exactly what it was like to kiss him last night. How he seemed to consume you whole, how everything else fell away, how Ben curled himself around you, how he-

Your cell phone rings, breaking through the moment, and making you remember exactly why you didn’t want to give in to Ben and remember the kind of person he was. 

You push him away and pull your cellphone out of your pocket. Butcher's photo and name appear on the screen.

Shit.

"Hey Butch, what's up?" You look away from Ben, forcing yourself to calm your racing heart.

Ben perks up at the mention of Butcher’s name.

“Do you have any idea where Soldier Boy is?”

“Soldier Boy?”

“Seems like our blunt smoking man out of time has vanished. Been trying to text him all bloody morning.”

At least he doesn’t know that Ben is here. That’s good. I’d never hear the end of it if-

Ben snatches the phone from your hand and holds it up to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

The softness was gone, his eyes had hardened again, and the spell was broken. Ben was no longer relaxed, his shoulders were tensed and guarded, jaw set.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Ben didn’t like Butcher. Sometimes you wondered why Ben decided to stay.

Probably because the alternative was being frozen like Han Solo next to his son.

When Ben had knocked Homelander out, you hadn’t believed it, and despite Ben’s arguing Butcher wanted to keep Homelander a supe, and just put him on ice. You had no idea why, especially since Butcher had been gunning for him forever, but had the sneakiest suspicion that it was because of Ryan.

But you didn't blame Butcher for that, watching your father get killed in front of you seemed traumatic, not to mention Ryan was still reeling from watching his mother die.

You turn back to your microwave to pull out your bowl of oatmeal with a groan.

Now Butcher’s going to mock me endlessly about going home with Soldier Boy. We didn’t do anything! Well…

Your mind flits back to the searing kiss you shared and to five seconds ago when whatever the hell just happened.

“You want me to meet you in fucking Jersey?” Ben laughs.

You choose not to eavesdrop on the conversation, instead you busy yourself with sprinkling brown sugar onto your breakfast and plucking a few more raspberries from the vines.

“Fine.” Ben almost growls before holding out the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

Of course he does. Maybe I can pretend to lose the signal with a piece of paper or a candy wrapper.

“Hello-“

“You crazy wanker.” Butcher chuckles into the phone. “Guess your night was a little more exciting than mine eh? Oi Hughie, you owe me a tener!” He shouts to Hughie who you can guess is sitting nearby.

“What? He’s with y/n! No way!” You hear Hughie shout back, muffled but there.

Damn it he’s gonna tell Annie. She's going to start sending me pictures of babies photoshopped in supe suits.

“You guys were betting that he was here?!” You shout making eye contact with Ben who only smirks before he busies himself with getting a bowl for his cereal.

“He left about two minutes after you did. Said some bullshit about a smoke break.” Butcher is smiling and you know it. “How was he? Was he as good as all the girls say?" Butcher coos on the other side of the line.

“Nothing happened-“

“Sure it didn’t Cherie!” You hear Frenchie crow. “Hopefully you got to relieve some of that tension no?”

“I hate all of you.” You grumble, and before Butcher can say anything else you hang up the phone and glare at Ben. “This is your fault.”

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“You just had to follow me home!”

“You shouldn’t have been walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time!”

“Not anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not going to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night.”

"Like hell. I don't need a babysitter!"

"I think you do-"

"No I don't. In fact why are you still here? Why haven't you left?" You shout, snatching your bowl of oatmeal before moving to the wobbly kitchen table that you smooshed up against a window that looks out onto your fire escape.

"Because I tend to like morning sex. It's a great way to start the day. Thought you'd be interested." Ben winks as he sits across from you, barely fitting in the wooden chair.

Your phone buzzes where it sits on the table beside your bowl. When you flip it over, you see the text from Annie.

Annie: YOU SLEPT WITH SOLDIER BOY?!!!!

You: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.

Annie: That's a yes. TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!

You sigh and shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, eyes drifting up to the top of your phone screen focusing on the time.

"SHIT! I'm late for work!" You shout before shoving as much oatmeal as you can into your mouth.

"Work?" Ben looks up from his bowl of cereal confused as you begin to run around the room.

The half-eaten bowl of oatmeal falls into the sink with a resounding crash, Bean's cat food lands haphazardly in his bright green food dish, and you practically run to your tote bag that hangs on a peg by your front door.

"I told you. I work at a plant shop." You glance back at your barren coffee maker mournfully. The thought of trying to get through the day without coffee seemed impossible, not to mention you didn’t have time to grab one on the way to work from your favorite shop just around the corner.

"I thought you were joking."

"No. Some of us have to work for a living." You run your fingers through your hair quickly pulling it back in a loose ponytail.

"You should leave your hair down." Ben says from the table watching you.

"What?"

"It's prettier when it's down."

"I don't have time for your misogynistic comments. Come on let's go."

"What?"

"I'm not going to leave you here in my apartment alone. You don't have a key."

"You could give me yours-"

"HA. No that's not going to happen. Come on." You tug on his muscular arm, trying to get him up out of the chair, but he barely moves.

“You know you could call out of work and we could spend the day in bed.” He smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “I mean you look good baby, but I think you'd look even better naked. Plus, Butcher and the rest of those fuckers already think we slept together so we might as well-“

“Not a chance Gramps. Either get up out of the chair and leave through the door or leave through the window. It’s your choice and I have no qualms with throwing you down to the street. But please don't make me do that because I can't afford a new window."

Ben rolls his eyes, but finally gets up to follow you. He actually tries to open the door for you, but you place your hand on his chest.

“Nah uh uh. Bowl in the sink. I’m not going to clean up after you.”

Ben sighs and mumbles something under his breath that’s lost in Mike’s inhuman screech of “Love on Top.”

Yeah. What a great fucking way to start the day.

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

(Photos for series picture found on Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter I: The Seed. Part I.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 1.8k

chapter summary: a glimpse into the world of hwang hyunjin, the artist and the celebrity.

warnings: swearing, smoking, drugs, one night stand, brief sex scene, hyunjin is an asshole for a few moments

~ Masterlist for the series ~ next part

Click. Click. Click.

The flash of the camera illuminates the room and the almost expressionless face, the owner of said face leaning his body towards one of the canvases hanging on the wall.

One of his many pieces that once only existed in the depths of his mind and heart, spilled onto the canvas adorned with a stylish bronze frame.

The flash once hurt his eyes, but as the time went on and the flashes got more frequent, his eyes adjusted and he became desensitized to the attention.

It was all just a familiar cycle. Sit in front of a blank canvas, prepare your paints, prepare your paintbrushes, prepare your fucking inspiration or at least find it somewhere hidden under a carpet, shoved into a metaphorical hole, sucked into the endless void.

Put it on the wall of your gallery, say some pretentious shit, strike a few poses and act like you're happy and motivated to even live.

Rinse and repeat.

As your admirers scream and throw wads of cash at your feet, be happy, you're living your dream, be happy, you got what you wanted, be happy, your life is perfect.

What was the inspiration for this piece?

Just say some poetic shit and everyone will eat it up, thinking how deep you are, admire the artist, admire the art, admire the lie.

Life is perfect.

Hyunjin looks for a moment of peace. He finds just that, one moment, as he manages to slip away to the balcony. He presses his elbows on the cold, hard stone, leans on his open palms and looks down.

The suit he's wearing makes it hard to move, his body is restricted, tied and held in place, the tie around his neck is secured tightly, almost taking his breath away and suffocating him.

He runs a hand through his styled hair, trying to take in a deep breath, his eyes are fixed on the road, everything looks so tiny from up where he's standing, so insignificant and temporary in time. All the people walking around look like ants, cars look like toys he played with when he was a child, it's a hazy cloud of everything and nothing, moving too fast to make sense of it.

Melancholy lingers in the air, together with the smell of a thunderstorm brewing in the distant dark sky, and he lifts his head up, his hand in his pocket.

Hyunjin fishes out a pack of cigarettes, a damned habit he picked up on after hanging out in many fancy clubs with many fancy people whose noses are white, whose smiles are crooked, whose eyes are dull and hearts tainted.

He curses under his breath, realizing that he had no lighter with him, after all, he didn't smoke daily, it was just a rare occurrence to blow off steam, just an excuse to disappear from the stifling crowd, the loud voices and the unnecessary questions he answered a hundred times before.

Footsteps approach him, the moment is broken and his manager appears by his side.

"Looking for this?"- Charlie reaches his zippo to Hyunjin.

"Sure."- Hyunjin's voice is almost inaudible.

"Those'll kill you, you know."- Charlie says, a sympathetic smile on his face.

Hyunjin lights up the cigarette, the quiet crackling sound loud in the space between them as he inhales, his lungs filling with the poison, and his brain filling with fake relief.

"You smoke more than me."- the smoke puffs out like a cloud as Hyunjin talks, eyeing the zippo in his hand, an airplane engraved into it.

"You look ugly when you smoke."- Charlie teases and Hyunjin lets out a chuckle as his manager takes out a cig.

He reaches his hand towards Hyunjin's and he rests the old zippo in his open palm, the thought of teasing his manager only shortly passing through his mind.

Charlie has always had an unhealthy obsession with airplanes and collecting old things, so Hyunjin knew that if he even tried to joke with the lighter, his manager would freak out.

"Why so gloomy? This is the biggest show you've ever hosted. Specifically in your own gallery."- Charlie lets the smoke fizz out as Hyunjin stares off into the distance, the quiet breeze swirling the smoke around, drawing patterns in the dark that surrounds them.

"It is, isn't it?"- Hyunjin nods, watching the ashes flicker around as he taps his cigarette, some of it ending on his perfect suit, staining the expensive material.

"Yeah, we made a lot of money. There are so many interested buyers too, so we're bound to make even more."- Charlie smirks before taking a drag.

Money. It all comes back to the stupid paper that holds more significance than anything else in this world. It's the ruler of everything and everyone, and the more you have it, the more you want.

You become insatiable, one more expensive suit, one more pair of leather shoes, a new couch because why not, a new car that's not even on the market yet because you get exclusive everything.

Complete emptiness. That's all that it is, a void that keeps growing with more stuff you get.

Nothing you buy will ever be enough to fill up the ever growing black hole, everything just gets sucked into it and you're left feeling like you have nothing at all.

That's all Charlie ever talks about, except airplaines. It's all Hyunjin has come to know.

He drowns in so many rare and expensive things, but still what he wants to grasp onto isn't tangible to him.

"Sounds perfect."- Hyunjin's voice comes out flat.

"It is perfect! So, lighten up! We made so. much. cash."- Charlie emphasizes. "We need to celebrate."- he adds, smirking as he sticks his hand into the pocket of his jacket and brings out a little baggy of white powder, waving it in front of Hyunjin's face.

"I'll pass."- he says shortly and Charlie scoffs incredulously.

"What is with the sour attitude, my friend?"- he runs his hand through his curly hair. "You're being ungrateful. There are people who have so much influence here tonight and they're gonna want to meet the star of the show, the one and only Hwang Hyunjin. So you better get your fucking shit together."- Charlie flicks his cigarette as his voice gets deeper and the look in his eyes becomes menacing, before he leaves Hyunjin standing on the balcony.

The storm moves closer, Hyunjin looks down, a flicker of something lights up deep inside him, he stares down as his heart races, he wants to scream and fly. Intrusive thoughts fill his head up and he turns on his heel abruptly, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the gallery.

It's already 4 am when Hyunjin stumbles into his apartment, some nameless girl giggling behind him. She probably thinks she knows everything about Hyunjin, which academy he went to, what he loved to paint the most, what was his biggest inspiration, when he had his first show.

This was the night of her life.

To Hyunjin, she was just another instrument to play with, something to pass the time and fill the empty space of his king sized bed, at least for one night.

To feel something. He wishes he could feel something.

She will never forget this but he already forgot her name.

Another baggy is opened, white powder spread on the glass table, Hyunjin's credit card used to make four perfect little lines, two for each of them.

The girl giggles and leans over, snorting two lines in as she moans in delight, her eyes rolling back.

Hyunjin mirrors her actions, scrunching up his nose, despise written on his face at the burning feeling in his nostrils and the dull ache behind his eyes.

How did he get to this?

He doesn't care right now, thoughts erased in his high mind as the girl starts touching on him, nimble fingers coming up to untie his tie.

He doesn't resist, lets her undress him as she kisses his neck, his hands are splayed on her tiny waist, she must be a model.

She's probably beautiful but even that doesn't mean anything to Hyunjin, not when he looks at her, kisses her or lays her under him.

He doesn't see her, he looks through her, chasing his high as quickly as he can, his fingers working on her sensitive bundle of nerves just so she doesn't talk shit later that he didn't know how to please her.

With a loud moan of his name that makes his stomach recoil, she cums around him and he spills into the condom, his hand gripping at the sheet next to her head.

Here comes the worst part. She'll want to cuddle. She'll stay the night. She'll probably yell and slap him in the morning when he tells her to get lost.

He'll say something douchy like 'you should feel honored I fucked you' just to get her off his case.

And he won't feel a thing.

"What the hell do you mean, you're leaving?!"- Charlie yells desperately, as Hyunjin sits, tapping his foot against the carpeted floor of his manager's office.

Charlie stands up angrily, the leather chair he was sitting in, creaking and spinning a little.

"I'm leaving, Charlie. I need to leave. I need a break. I can't do this anymore. I don't even know who I am and why I'm doing this anymore. I don't know what to paint anymore and I don't even fucking care right now. I despise painting and art! I fucking despise all of this!"- Hyunjin's suppressed anger and despair starts bubbling up as he stands up.

"Save your sob story, Hyunjin. This isn't just about you. Other people depend on how much you sell and how much your produce. You can't just up and leave everything when you feel like it. People will-"

"I don't fucking care about people! And I'm making it about me. It's about me, for once. If you want me to be fruitful and bring you money so badly, you need to let me take a fucking break."- Hyunjin seethes.

Charlie pinches the bridge of his nose.

"How long?"

"However long I need."

"Fine. Whatever, Hyunjin. I will keep selling the pieces from the last show. They will sell out quickly, just a reminder. You'll need to do something new by then."

"Fine."

Hyunjin leaves the office, his heart beating fast inside his chest as he speeds off faster and faster, away from the gray buildings, away from the tainted hearts, away from the empty fucking void, threatening to suck in his entire existence.

Returning to his cold apartment, Hyunjin packs a suitcase, leaves a note for the cleaning lady, and throws one last look around his modern apartment, his eyes stop on the looming city skyscrapers outside.

No colors could ever illuminate the deep-seated depression of the big city.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @nchhuhi @1810cl

[olderthannetfic]

There is something confusing to me about older queer people (which is to say, older than I am, at a relatively young 24 years old) who get mad at original fiction whose worldbuilding involves neopronouns. I'm hoping maybe, ONTF, since you've been in queer spaces a lot longer than I have, you can explain why people have such a negative reaction to the idea.

Basically, I'm working on a novel based that takes white-throated sparrow biology and uses it for building blocks in the same way A/B/O takes (now debunked) wolf science and used it for building blocks. This means there are essentially four genders, the two viewed as more intelligent (brown-haired men and women) and the two viewed as more physical (white-haired men and women). Those two groups then get further divided along the lines of 'women are better at making smart decisions under pressure' and 'men are better at staying home and defending the children, as God intended'.

So it seemed natural to me that this worldwide quaternary system would result in at least some languages having pronoun sets for each of the four options. Some languages in real life have more complicated pronoun systems than that, particularly ones where there's a bunch of formal and informal pronouns. It'd also help the reader keep track of who was a part of what group without my having to turn around and state people's coloration constantly. Yes, these people are human, just as humans in A/B/O are, but society is fundamentally very different. I'm not throwing this in to just complicate things or sound smart or something. It's here because my minoring in Anthropology and majoring in Linguistics taught me language usage reflects the needs and values of a people.

The writing group I'm a part of IRL is mostly queer, mostly 40+, with some cishet women who are also present and active writers. The writing group I'm a part of on DW is mostly DWRPers, in their 30's and up, though no older than 50, and entirely queer. I did not expect these to be groups that were uncomfortable with the idea of "different world, different pronouns".

Instead the reception has ranged from suggestions it's pretentious or overthinking things to requests I reconsider doing it. I've been informed this could be seen as mocking the real life queer people who go by pronouns other than she, he, or they. One person asked if this was went to be me "artificially justifying" nonbinary pronouns and implying I didn't find them valid in the real world. That was an awkward conversation, to say the least.

In reality I wasn't really thinking about real life people who use nonbinary pronouns when I was writing. I was just asking, "Logically, wouldn't it make sense for things to work very differently under a quarternary than it does under a modern European binary?" and following my brain along to its' conclusions as it processed that.

I have gotten zero negative feedback from my queer friends my age regarding this. So obviously, generation and the experiences informing a generational context are key, here. I'm just... still lost on how anyone finds this objectionable.

Help?

--

Ahaha. Oh god.

Well, as a reader of sff in the 90s, the first reaction I have to such things is "IS THERE A CONLANG AND A MAP?" Because, man, the conlang people were some of the most tedious motherfuckers I ever had to deal with in sff spaces.

But broadly... I think the reasons queer people get annoyed about this stuff boil down to a couple of big factors:

Disrespectful children who don't know history

Idiot old people harrumphing about "history" they clearly failed to pay attention to while it was going on in the first place

I personally hate being asked to use new words most of the time. A few bits of fandom slang I'll pick up at once, but I'm usually like "Why would I call it 'spirk'? We already have 'K/S'!" *shakes cane*

If you're American, they're your "roommate", not your "flatmate". No, I don't care how much more precise this foreign term is, you pretentious wanker. (But then I'll use 'wanker' because fandom adopted that years ago...)

So my reaction to being asked to say aloud any pronoun not in very frequent circulation in my offline life is "Urrrgh. Do I have to?"

However, the reality is that people have been messing around with pronouns in English since forever. Do you see 'heo' in Modern English? No, you do not! (Not that it was gender neutral, but the point is that even words as ancient as pronouns have changed quite a bit.) The early internet was full of pronoun stuff in MUDs and the like. You had a choice of a lot more than just three in a bunch of these. People besides men and women have always been in queer communities.

So some people like to cry about neopronouns being actually neo, and they're just wrong.

As for the why do you care part...

There is a nasty habit in contemporary queer spaces to act like gay rights issues are solved. Bisexuality? Passe! etc. Gays and lesbians finally got a little mainstream acceptance only to suddenly be treated like the worst of the establishment by the queer youth. How dare?!?! It's even more egregious with bisexuality where the focus of a bunch of queer activism finally swung that way in the 90s... only to be sharply cut off in the 00s.

There's a real "You already got yours. Where's mine?" vibe to some queer discourse today, and it's directed at people who never got theirs. It shows up in demands for mentorship by people who've barely had a chance to escape a rocky start and figure out who they are themselves. It shows up in yowling about this or that bit of queer media we finally got not being progressive because it's the wrong letter of the acronym.

None of which has a damn thing to do with what pronouns you use in your novel, obviously, but I think some unresolved embattled feelings are why some older queer people are very weird about pronouns.

Some of them are also doing the old person version of throwing the weirdos under the bus to placate the normies. Respectability politics became a term long before the behavior was rife on tumblr.

--

If someone really does find it pretentious, though, and not just as a cover for crying about nonbinary identities being fake, I suspect they just remember how 1970s SFF was full of privileged anthropology students misunderstanding kinship systems from elsewhere in the world and then trying to tell everyone how ~deep~ their extremely contrived novels based on them were.

I'm not saying your writing is like this or that every one of these old sff novels was either, but when I hear "anthropology student", I groan internally. It's an instinctive reaction. It's less about the real fields and more about the bevvy of dilettantes I've run into over the years who'll say they study those things but really want to talk my ear off about Joseph fucking Campbell or the strong form of the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis or something.

--

Those birds are a really cool source of inspiration. Like with A/B/O, the first thing I wonder is how queerness works in that context and how much people like to defy their designated roles.

Omegaverse started on porn logic, so "The one I say tops always tops!" makes sense. When it gets expanded to try to make it make logical sense as a whole world, I often enjoy it, but it can break down quickly if treated as biology is law. I don't know how often the birds veer off of their set patterns, but humans certainly would.

One place where I get a strong "Oh god, this again" feeling from people's plotbunnies is when they're trying to make up a sff society that strikes me as too rigid in a way that real humans aren't. I'll see people using fake wolf biology (not just for horny reasons) but never looking at what's going on with gender in contemporary Thailand or whatever. Like... Le Guin may have made sedoretus feel plausible, but nobody I've ever seen stanning the concept as something fandom should play with has. That's probably because Le Guin was using over-complicated social norms as a thing that breaks down and causes trouble, and "This should be the next A/B/O!" posts are treating it as something that actually works and is a good way to get the pair you don't ship separated while shipping poly.

"It'd also help the reader keep track of who was a part of what group without my having to turn around and state people's coloration constantly."

This, in particular, gives me that cold shudder of recognition from when Homestuck fandom was everywhere and everyone wanted to over-explain those stupid playing card suits and why I should care.

Your concept sounds neat, and I think a set of four pronouns could easily make sense there...

But I also think that if people need the pronouns to keep track of coloration, you haven't set up a system that feels organic enough or haven't given enough cues about how characters are treating each other or why. Use the pronouns too, but just keep that in mind. It's like the "m/m is hard because the pronouns don't tell me whose hand is where" problem. It's almost never actually a pronoun problem.

--

Anyone else have thoughts here?

[k00sblogger]

Summary: When your audition doesn't go as planned, you realize that you'd do absolutely anything to get the role you want.

Warnings: age gap, hoseok kinda sus, messy blowjob, mentions of other sexual acts, dirty talk, pwp

Pairing: instructor!hoseok x ballerina!reader

🔗: m.list

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

"God I feel so stiff." you grunt out, bent over as you stretch your tired hamstrings. The week before this one was complete hell, and since you'd spent so much time in the studio your muscles were in pain.

It was audition week now, the week everyone was so eager for. On audition night you'd either be going out for ice cream with your friends in celebration, or sulking in your bed in disappointment.

You'd been practicing for this role for what felt like your entire life. The role of odette, black swan.. white swan.. whatever you wanna call it.

Some people may say it's basic, or that swan lake is played out- but you absolutely loved it. You remember looking at the older ballerinas as a child and wishing it could be you. Now, it finally was. Well almost- you'd only feel complete if you obtained the role of the black swan. Which you were determined to do.

Two loud claps pull you out of your thoughts, and you immediately stand to your feet when you see that its your instructor. Your friends do the same- just purely out of respect.

Ms. Bahr may be old, but she was never one to let herself be walked all over. Especially not by dancers from her company.

"I'd like you all to meet our guest for the.. day." her voice awkwardly trails off as she gestures toward the door. In walks a man, who looks quite close to your age. He's dressed nicely, & walks in with his arms crossed as he scans over everyone.

Well damn, you knew if he was anything near as stuck up as he looked, you hated him already.

"Hello, i'm mr. jung." he says, setting his bag down but still keeping his eye trained on all of us. When we hear the door slam, everyone's head snaps the opposite way, and we see that Ms. Bahr has excused herself.

Very weird, she was never one to be outside of the room during a practice. During audition week especially.

"I advise that you focus on me, because after this week i'll be officially taking Ms. Bahr's spot as head instructor." gasps, heard all around the room. One of your friends liza stares at you in shock, and you return the look.

People chatter amongst themselves at the news, it was surprising to say the least. Why wouldn't she tell us herself? Why is she letting a random guy take her spot? You had many questions, all that probably would never be answered.

"Now! With that being said-" a sly smile is on his face as he picks up a a paper- studying the sheet for a moment before speaking again. "If your not trying out for the role of the black swan, please step back and continue warming up."

Only four students are left standing, including you. You give a side eye to your main competition here, Jessica bush. You roll your eye at the slight sight of her, you absolutely hated the girl.

It wasn't jealousy- period point blank. It was just her atitude, it was fucking horrible. You wanted the role for yourself of course, but it would feel damn good to beat her and finally put her in her place.

Mr. Jung takes a good look at all of you, locking eyes with you for a split second before moving his eyes on to the girl next to you. He gives a nod of approval before setting down the paper with your names on it.

"I'd like to see you all perform the variation you've been taught yeah?" you hadn't even put your points shoes on yet. You curse yourself for what you're about to have to do, terrible first impression.

"Uhm- i need to get my points shoes.. sir." you itch at your arm at the tension when he looks at you, a annoyed glare on his face.

"Hurry up, go on." he says, allowing you permission to scurry over to your duffel bag.

What a prick.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

"Alright, not too bad." he mutters, slightly clapping as you and the others breathe heavily. This variation always felt much harder when you had someone watching you do it.

"I suppose you're all free to go, come in prepared tomorrow for auditions." there's a collective nod before everyone goes about their own business, talking as they all leave one by one.

By the time you sit down to start taking off your toe pads, the room is already empty besides you and him. It was a little awkward, but you refused to move faster just because he was in here with you.

A pained hiss leaves your lips when you see the bruise forming on your big toe, sighing at the sight of the mark. You don't pay much mind to it, sliding your sock right over it and slipping your shoes on afterward.

"You need new toe pads." your hear a voice behind you, and its him, the new instructor. You give awkward smile as you look up, playfully scoffing at his words. "Yeah, guess i do."

Standing to your feet, you sling your bag over your shoulder- muttering a quiet bye to the man as you begin to walk away. Unfortunately, his hand on your arm prevents you to walk any further.

"I think you're right for the role." he suddenly says, and your eyes widen in surprise. How could he decide that so easily when he's only seen you perform a short variation once? For gods sake he just got here.

You weren't ungreatful though, in fact you were very glad he noticed your efforts.

"Really?" you ask, shock evident in your voice as it grows louder. He nods his head, walking away from you now and back over to his personal belongings. Your right on his toes, assuming that he wants you to follow him.

"How could you know when you've only seen me dance once?" you question him, genuinely confused about what he could be thinking. This was such an important role, he'd be stupid to cast it so easily.

"I have a good eye.." his voice trails off with a suspicious chuckle as his gaze returns to your face. Your features were etched with so much confusion, but he could see you were excited.

"I think you're a beautiful girl.. y/n right?" your smile slowly fades, sensing the weird tone in his voice. "Ehm.. yeah" the excitement empties from your body when he stalks towards you, eyes refusing to leave yours.

He circles you as if you were prey, arms crossed the same way they were when he walked into the room. "Your old enough to know.. sometimes in life we have to do things to get what we want."

What the fuck was he saying? Your face scrunched up in annoyance and confusion, you just hoped this wasn't him flirting with you.

You let out a sigh when his cold fingers trail down your bare arm, feeling his body heat as he stands close behind you. "I can get you that role." you feel his lips on the back of your neck and it makes you want to throw up and disgust.

He barely even knew you! And even if he did- it's out of the question and inappropriate. "I can get you that role." he repeats again, only this time he presses his obvious boner into your ass.

That's when you move, picking up your bag that you hadn't even noticed fell to the ground. "Are you fucking insane?!" you shout, and he looks at you as if you were the one who did something wrong.

"Your disgusting!" you scream again, voice echoing through the room. You could only hope everyone had left the building as you rush out of the room.

"You'll regret that." he yells after you.

Fuck off.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

AUDITION DAY

The week had went by in a flash, and tryouts had come much sooner than you thought they would.

After the situation with your new instructor, you avoided him like the plague- even switching directions when you'd see him walking around the building. You noticed him staring at times, but you did your best to ignore it.

You hadn't told anyone about what happened either, not even your closest friends. What you didn't want was for it to effect your audition process, not after you worked so hard for this very moment.

The voice of your friend lila causes you to zone back in, & you can't help the smile that falls over your face when you see her walking towards you with flowers.

"Lila.." you say, giving her a big hug before she can even hand the flowers over. "You didn't have to.. i didn't even get you anything.." you mutter, pulling out of the hug with a saddened look on your face.

You appreciated her at times like these, and sometimes even felt like a shitty friend when she'd go out of her way to do special things for you. If you ever lost her you think you'd literally spiral out of control.

"Good luck on your audition." she says, her face full of joy as she gives a comforting squeeze to your arm.

You don't get the chance to thank her because the door opens, and in comes Mr.Jung . Everyone stands when he arrives, the same way they would when Ms. Bahr would enter.

Now that you know the real him, it kind of sucks that everyone likes him so much. It also sucks that you have to keep what happened to yourself for now, but you planned to confess as soon as auditions were over.

"Alright everyone, we'll begin black & white swan auditions now- so if that's not you please push to the back of the room." Again, four students are left standing- only this time it's much more nerve racking.

You were used to the whole class watching auditions happen, but this was different. You'd been waiting for this for years... if you fucked up now you don't think you'd ever forgive yourself.

"Ready?" he asks, staring at all of you as you spread out and get into your starting position.

Ready as you'll ever be.

~~~~

Needless to say the audition went great. You don't remember messing up even once, and even a couple other students came up to your afterwards just to tell you how good your audition looked.

You watched the rest of the auditions in excitement and confidence, happy that you'd done so good. Usually, you'd let jessica's little glares towards you ruin your mood- but not today.

An entire hour passes before auditions finally finish, and you're all sent into another room. There's chattering amongst everyone, different talk of who they think will make black swan.

You try your best to ignore it, sticking your headphones in for some extra noise. You get a nice thirty minutes of relaxation before it's finally time.

Ms. Bahr makes a appearance just to tell everyone results are posted- and as soon as she says it everyone's rushing out of the room. Your the last one to leave, taking a few deep breaths as you slowly make your way to the poster.

And then- your excitement crumbles when you see mr. jung and jessica hugging at the end of the hall. No way, no no no no no. Your footsteps get faster at the sight, and you finally come to a anxious hault when you see the list.

{Black/White swan: Jessica bush}

You wanted to cry when you read it, but you couldn't. At least not when your instructor was looking at you with the cruelest grin on his face.

He did this on purpose.

You danced beautifully, no one could tell you any different. You weren't being stuck up, but you genuinely felt that today was the best time you'd ever performed it. Your hard work felt like a waste, all because you rejected his advances.

You went home utterly disappointed in yourself, wishing that you could turn back the time and tell him yes. You'd do anything for that role, literally anything.

That's when you found yourself pondering your options, and finally- you came up with a solution.

*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。o○*:.。..。.。

THE NEXT DAY

You couldn't believe you were doing this. You'd stood in front of your instructors door for a good five minutes before finally gathering the courage to even knock.

He welcomed you in as if nothing had happened, a smile on his face as he gestures for you to sit down. You obviously sit with no complaints, not wanting to piss him off when you were already about to ask for something huge.

"What brings you in?" his tone is very much condescending, and you have to bite you tongue to prevent a scowl from plastering on your face.

"I..I wanna take your offer." you say quietly, foot constantly tapping against the floor as you await a response. He ticks his tongue as he looks at you, before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Don't you think it's too late?" he mentions, pointing his long finger to the paper on his table. You lean over to look at it, seeing the sheet of paper with jessica's name on it. It makes you want to throw up.

"With all due respect sir, you did this to spite me." you don't bite you tongue any longer, you know the motive behind this. He was a cruel man, but oh so clever.

He chuckles at your words, shaking his head as he stands from his chair. He slowly makes his way to the door, twisting the lock and then turning back to face you. "You really want that role huh?"

You hated this, you hated that he had the upper hand. But you also knew this was your decision, and you didn't have to do this. You had every right and the will to walk right out of this room and deal with the fact you won't ever be black swan.

Except, you didn't want to do that.

"I do.." you mutter, gaze now at your feet as he comes closer to you to tilt your chin upwards. He looks at you with fake pitty, somewhat happy that you'd come crawling back to him.

"Get on your knees." he commands, and you oblige him without another word. He licks his lips to moiston them at the sight of you, ready to pleasure him and get exactly what you've always wanted.

"You know what to do, you want the role?" he asks, and your hands shake with anxiety as you nod your head. "Then take it."

Alright, you could do this. Give him head, easy peasy.. right?

Your shaky hands are evidence of your nervousness as you undo the zipper on his pants, and when you see the bulge in his boxers you question why he's already hard? What was he doing before you got here?

When tuck your hands into the waistband of his boxers, he sighs at the feeling of your cold fingers on his skin. You try your best to not look at him when his length finally pops out, red tip right in front of your eyes.

He was bigger than you thought he'd be, but it was no wonder that he had no shame when coming onto you the first time around.

You didn't even realize you were gawking at it until he finally said something. "Scared?" the question infuriates you, and causes you to put the length of him in your mouth immediately.

You weren't scared of him. Fuck no.

He groans at the feeling of your mouth wrapped tight around him, keeping a tight grip on his desk as you bob your head up and down.

He smirks at the way your making him so messy, not caring that your getting spit all over his pelvis and even in his small happy trail. "Fuck- sluttin' me out aren't you?" You ignore his words, set on the fact this was purely for your role.

You wanted it, bad.

You pop his dick out of your mouth with heavy breaths, now swirling your tongue around his tip. You trace every part of it, the veins, the tip, everything. You can tell he likes it, because he finally allows his head to lean back.

You couldn't believe yourself, all of your previous fear had vanished from your body. Hoseok could tell too, because you were sucking the life out of him.

"Shit, just wanna bend you over-" you moan around his dick, not able to speak since you've shoved his dick right back down your throat. You're gagging now, but you don't pull away- determined to get what you wanted out of this.

Your hand is covered in saliva, all from you jerking off what you can take inside of your mouth. Or what you thought you couldn't take- because soon both of his hands move snug to the back of your head for more leverage.

He fucks your mouth with a punishing pace, smirking when he hears your little muffled whimpers and gags. "Love that shit- gonna look so pretty on stage." his words wouldve made you smile if your mouth wasn't so full- it only confirmed that the role was no longer jessicas.

It belonged to you, and you only.

"Where you want me to cum, hm?" he pulls out of your mouth breifly so you can speak, slapping the wet tip on your messy cheek. "On my tits- please."

You were way too into this, hurriedly lowering your top right under your breasts. They sit perfectly, and they look even better when he finally rubs himself to a orgasm, his milky white release coating your hard nipples.

"God- so fuckin hot." the words leaving his mouth sounded foreign, and you couldn't believe you were wet. You no longer denied the fact that you enjoyed what had just happened, it was a win win.

When you go to clean yourself off, he stops you- taking it upon himself to lift your top right over your still cum covered breasts. "Gonna go home with my cum on you, that'll finish up the deal."

You go home happy, going to sleep excited for the upcoming weeks as you were officially the black swan. Jessica on the other hand was feeling so many emotions at once. She was angry, dissapoonted, and overall confused.

She wondered why her role had been snatched from her and given to someone who didn't even deserve it. She'd done everything she could for that role.. including fuck her instructor.

Hoseok had promised her the same fate, that he'd give her the role regardless of her audition as long as she gave him some pussy. So she did so, without thinking of the consequences.

He'd played the both of you, and neither of you had any idea.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

(X men Evolution) Platonic Yandere Trio Wanda, Quicksilver and Magneto and Magneto's youngest child reader from a one night stand who has Technopathy and who's mom was killed protecting her from anti mutant groups and the social worker contacted Magneto because his name is in the birth certificate and asked him if he wanted custody of them.

Ooooo! Thank you for specifying which X-Men media you wanted! (But I only do gender neutral Readers, okay?) I'll see what I can do:

It was hard, not having your mom around anymore.

She died protecting you, doing everything in her power to keep you safe, to let you have a chance at a normal childhood, and how was she repayed? The people of your old town killed her. They had meant to kill you, but she took the bullet for you. You were lucky to be alive, lucky to have been moved to a safe place...

But...

Now you were moving in with someone you'd never met before.

He was supposedly your dad. Or at least who your mom claimed was. She'd never really mentioned him before, save when she needed to give you hope for a better future, when you'd be safe to use your powers and not be attacked for it.

His name was supposedly Magnus, and it turned out he had two other kids: Wanda and Pietro, twins.

They hadn't been mean or jealous (what was there to be jealous about? you're a younger sibling with trauma), but they did act... stange? In a way. Always hovering nearby, trying to keep the other Brotherhood teens from being near you or talking with you.

You think your first bonding moment with them was when you and the group had gone to an arcade for fun. The machines hummed with life, with energy... And you had just the game you enjoyed just waiting to be played.

The claw machine.

The poor thing hadn't been able to give a reward for all the money it was given, but you were just the person to make it right. With a few quarters, and a quick snap of electricity, you had the machine buzzing with your commands. The first stuffed animal was a hummingbird, with bright blue wings and a white stomach. The second was an owl with bright red eyes. Soon to follow were more and more little animals, until the entire plushie receptacle was filled to the brim with your rewards.

You shocked the poor guy behind the ticket counter, who looked tired and flabbergasted. And it seemed you'd surprised your siblings, too...

"Take it. They look like you," you pushed as you shoved the two birds into their arms. You'd already packed the rest of the stuffies into large plastic bags, hopefully to send to the local children's hospital.

"How does this look like me?" Pietro asked, looking over the hummingbird in blurred movements. "Couldn't it have been, like, a falcon, or something?"

"... Why an owl?" Wanda asks.

"You're fast and can perform any trick in the book. So can hummingbirds! Can you see a falcon flying backwards? Also, an owl because you've got the whole witch aesthetic, and it looks like you! It even has black and red feathers!"

"... Tch... Fine..."

"... It will be my familiar..."

"Yay! Now, let's go give the others their's!"

"Wait, you got them some too?!"

After that, the twins were just-

Everywhere.

And if they couldn't be there, one of the other Brotherhood teens was instead. It only became a problem when someone tried to bully you.

Safe to say...

"Mess with them again and you won't live to make the same mistake again!"

"Let's see how well you do in basketball now, loser!"

The guy who'd try to pick on you now earned the full ire of Wanda AND Pietro, who made his life h*ll. And what those two decreed, the others followed.

People left you alone after that.

Of course, when you wanted to hide from everyone or hide your tracks...

You messed with the computers and lights.

"Ah man, I can't see like this!"

"Is it a power outage?"

"Someone get the janitor!"

Being in control of technology was pretty awesome.

It wasn't so fun when your dad found out.

"Reader... perhaps you would like to join my Acolytes? We would have much need of your mutation."

You took one look at the people your... dad, had on his elite team... And decided:

"Um... I'm good, sir..."

"Very well... And you may call me 'father'."

"Erm... okay... Father..."

What you didn't see happening in the shadows was your father having his Acolytes preparing a space for you anyway, so one day you could be with them. What you didn't see was Wanda giving nightmares and accidents to your bully, sending them into a chaotic spiral. What you didn't see was Pietro following you wherever you went, spying from as far or near as he liked, and telling Wanda and Magneto everything he saw.

You may have thought you were being given some control, but in honesty... That control was only an illusion.

If you ever tried to leave or go to the X-Men, you'd just find yourself kept captive, bound in metal chains where no one would ever find you, save for your loving family... They wouldn't risk losing their little technopath, the one member of their small family who can temper their personalities... So don't try to run, or they'll cut off any small control you have for good.

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

batting my eyelashes at you so you tell me wbt your thoughts on kingsely 🥺🥺🥺🥺

in my mind kingley is just very much a Chill Guy™️

• as an auror and later a spy for dumbledore, he obviously has a strong sense of righteousness and responsibility. but his commitment to his job doesn't come from self-sacrificing work-acohlicism but from the need to Do The Right Thing. that's also why he ends up twisting his position and spying the ministry. he doesn't believe it's on the right side of history anymore & he won't stand for it (at least in his mind and infront if the ones he truly cares for)

• i think he shares some characteristics with remus :) very attentive, calm and kind, helpful when it comes to people in need. he probably does get stern when faced with adults who don't have their shit together, but especially with trainees he's super nice. people feel very comfortable around him and don't hold back on sharing their thoughts with him

• i like to imagine he trains aurors, tigether with alastor. i can really see him in a teaching position. but he wouldn't want to get out of touch with the actual field he's training people for, so he also regularly goes on missions

• with his kind and competent manners, the ministry puts trust in him and he gets handed a lot of responsibilities. which makes his spying more efficient but also potentially more dangerous.

• he gets on super well with sirius! (this is canon but not dwelled on enough. i'm making a sirius x alastor x kingsley post next) he knows sirius isn't a pansy & lets his more rugged humour come out. they already briefly met in the first war & after a lot of convincing and some long conversations with sirius, kingsley finally grudgingly believed his innocence. he was a bit heartbroken for 12 years and now during ootp they're chilling :)

• bisexual king kingsley. bro was the type to pick up chicks at the disco in the 70s and bought himself free time from work in the 80s to venture a but into the gay club scene. has actually had some stable long-term relationships that always ended on a bittersweet yet good note

• don't insult donna summer in front of him, you'll catch a bitchslap. sings badly in the shower

• used to be a light stoner in his youth but after two years of smoking he started getting paranoia and bad trips so he stopped

• a foodie. doesn't play about breakfast and his mama's recipes. she never gave him a written down recipe so he had to literally watch and help her cook until he's learned it all by heart

• struggles immensely with racism in the workforce. working class kingsley who had to fight for his place at the ministry, whose position was constantly questioned, no matter how obvious his competence. kingsley could save 500 people's life and one minor mistake would still endanger his job. he needs to always be 6 steps upfront, prepared and cautious to make no missteps. when he does get his flowers, it's always like 'wow kingsley, you're one of the good ones'. it stings.

• i can imagine the old magical families and therefore the supporters of voldemort are majorly white and british and carry racist sentiments into the movement. this would underline kingsley's strong disapproval and fight against them. death eaters don't gaf about any form of liberation, so kingsley as a very discriminated upon person has nothing to gain from joining them, they have nothing to offer him. he's also a half-blood and, again, lower class. he chooses to fight for the people instead

[kauzebridgerton]

Kauze History.

Chapter 4: Cursed hair.

I'm glad Reiji took me away from Ayato, he said he wanted me to meet the other residents of this house.

— Reiji, do you like being an adult?

— Why this question? I must say that as we grow up we have more responsibilities, but I'm happy because we receive more respect too. Or at least we should.

— I never want to be an adult! Never!

— How foolish, do you want to be like Ayato?

— No! Not like him...! I want to be like Mr. Karlheinz, he is strong, powerful and has a really nice house.

— You'll have a long way to go then.

— I think the secret is to have really long hair.

— Hah, you and your foolish ideas. Come on, you're taking up all my time.

He then took me to the living room, and soon all the other residents appeared, even the silly Ayato, but I didn't pay much attention to him, as a guy with a teddy bear caught my attention, he had a very strange appearance, but his teddy bear was cool, but Batman was much cooler.

— This is Kauze, the boy the father mentioned earlier. — Reiji said in a loud tone. — He will live here, indefinitely.

— That guy said not to kill him or hurt him either. — a blond boy who was lying on the sofa said. — Hah, this is so tiring.

Well, at least he remembered that these guys can't hurt me! If not, Mr. Karlheinz will give them a good scolding.

— Tsk! Why is this brat here? What is that old man up to?

A man with white hair punched the wall, and it cracked, which left me completely terrified, I quickly ran after Reiji.

— Subaru, you're scared, this little boy, fufu~ Children can be adorable, I'm sure I can teach him a lot. — The man in the hat looked at me. — Have you picked a favorite yet? You haven't even met me yet.

—... I'm sorry... — he said awkwardly.

— This filth is wearing my clothes?! — And then that weird guy came at me. — Apparently he wasn't chosen because of his appearance.

And then everyone laughed, I looked at my body, and then I looked at him, how could this fool say such a thing? And he kept talking.

— He's just skin and bones, besides those freckles on his face look like some kind of disease. Maybe if we shave his head, he might be acceptable.

These nasty comments made me very sad, am I really that ugly? Why was he saying these things to me? I looked at the other people here, but no one seemed interested in what had just happened, I just giggled awkwardly, but still, I was very embarrassed.

Soon after that, Reiji introduced them to me, saying the name of each of the vampires in this room and saying who was the oldest to the youngest. As soon as he finished doing that, some of them left the place, and I went to my room.

— This Kanato is so annoying, he must think he is the lord of eternal beauty to talk about me.

I grumbled as I lay down on the bed, I tossed and turned a little trying to fall asleep again, vampires had some very strange schedules when it came to sleeping, when they slept at all. I think I must have stayed like that for a while, until I finally managed to sleep.

Well, that's what I expected at least, since it didn't take long for someone to wake me up, I felt a cold hand pressing my cheek, and then I opened my eyes and saw that it was Laito.

— Laito! — I smiled at him — Hmm, I think it's because I'm really sleepy!

— You better get ready, we're going to school.

— Oh! And that's why you're dressed like that, I hadn't noticed... I liked your hat!

— Nfu~ Did you like it? You are a very smart little boy. I'm sure you're trying to win over everyone with your compliments.

— Not even! I will never praise Kanato, he has a soul darker than a starless night! — I mumbled. — He should think carefully before talking about other people's appearance.

I crossed my arms in frustration when I remembered what that annoying person said, but then Laito chuckled and lightly flicked my forehead.

— Just don't be alone with him, you hear? Now get dressed.

He opened the closet and took out a uniform, but I immediately found something strange, how could adults and children have classes at the same time? That didn't make much sense to me.

— Laito, isn't it too late for me to go to school? You're an adult, so it's okay to be out so late, but I... What if Mr. Karlheinz grounds me for leaving home so late?

— You won't have class Kauze, we just can't leave a child alone here. — He threw the uniform on the bed. — Hurry up, Reiji doesn't like delays.

And then he disappeared, I really wanted to know how to use that kind of power! It looks so cool! But I also didn't want to be scolded by Reiji, so I got ready as quickly as possible, the uniform was very nice, it was black and had some silver buttons. I was really curious to see what my backpack looked like, but I guess I'll only find out when I go to school, I mean... My school.

— Hmm~ — I had a little trouble fixing my hair, but I hope to one day learn it, it was a bit complicated actually, as it was wavy and well styled, but I think that part of it being styled is my fault. for not knowing how to tidy it up properly. — Well, I'm a child, if someone talks about my hair, I can blame it on one of the adults.

I laughed evilly, that would be really funny if it happened, but I wasted no time and quickly went down the stairs and ran to the garden, getting into the limousine with the Sakamakis, after all I didn't want to get scolded by Reiji, who, by the way, looked me up and down , I think he was trying to see if I dressed up properly.

— Have you ever been to a school? — Reiji asked while adjusting his glasses.

— No... But I promise I'll behave! First I'm going to look for a really cool place to stay! But soon after I'm going to the library, as I never went to school, I think I was a little behind with learning things, but I have to make sure I can stay very smart so as not to disappoint my future sensei. Oh! Oh! Will I make friends? It would be so cool to have a group of friends! The name would be "group of heroes", pretty cool, right?!

— Tsc, this boy talks a lot. —Subaru grumbled. — He only asked one question, he doesn’t need to tell you all his plans.

— I'm sorry... — he said embarrassed.

After that, no one said anything anymore, it was like we were playing that game of silence, that was a bit complicated, because I really liked talking and I wanted to make friends with one of them, like Laito, Reiji and even Shu! They look really cool! It's a shame that Shu was cursed with the yellow hair issue, maybe I'll ask him later how he dealt with it

[ask-monster-men]

Jaakobah is doing things to me. He's so uncomfortably uncanny with his presentation and voice... and yet hes so hot to me.

How would he structure his deal differently with the reader character? It sounds like he'd rather bind their soul to him or keep them close physically as a trophy/plaything rather than just take it to sell to someone else

You hit it right on the head with that one, good job anon 👏

Your completely right, he doesn't love people he loves to OWN people. He gets sexual gratification out of it as for some reason owning things and people (mostly humans) really gets him going.

He's a manipulator and ropes people into his web of lies and abuse by promising them everything they want and then stripping them of everything they had leaving only him and them.

He doesn't just own people in the sense that he has them chained up but they could escape and never see him again-no no he owns their soul, their soul becomes part of his making him not only more powerful but more greedy for control. Depending on how much control he has over you (how much of you soul you give away to him) He can control simple things in you're body such as temperature or white blood cell count...these simple things can and will have horrific effects on you, he uses it as punishment or just when and whenever he's bored.

God forbid your one of his favourites.

If he realises you find him hot he's gonna use it against you, he'll play along and play nice or dirty if that helps. He'll keep a hand on your back or bring you gifts, affectionate words ANYTHING to get you to relinquish control over your own soul.

He'll rip apart those bitchy fuckers who bullied you when you where kids or he'll leave a scratch card on you parents door that wins them millions, he will do anything that floats your boat and he will do it with that deep and attractive accent, his body will move in away that compliment yours to real you in closer and closer.

Once your soul is his well its easier if I just write it.

He had been so kind to you, giving you gifts here and there and words of encouragement and hell he even saved your poor old parents from the load sharks, the police are still picking parts of them out of the floorboards.

You had grown up with the tales of beats and demons twisting poor people to give up their souls but Jaakobah had told you that giving a soul is the most intimate thing a supernatural being and human could do, that it's a sacred ritual that binds and tethers two beings together...he framed it to sound so pleasant...like marriage..and he had been so so good too you the least you could do is give him something you didn't think it was worth any value, I mean what could he do with a soul anyways?.

But there you two where, you where standing opersit him twiddling your thumbs together with nervousness burning your sense of self apart, he looked down at you he knew exactly what you where about to give him and he buried the malicious emotion of greed as so his face wouldn't switch to it with a ding.

"Mmm everything alright doll?" Doll, a nickname he gave you that you thought was just a cutey couple thing but you had no idea how accurate the name was. He spoke with fake concern lacing his voice, he bended down a little to reach you- his hight was quite intimidating and completely towered over even the tallest humans.

You looked up at him and smiled "I wanna do it... my soul I want to bind it with yours" binding was the only word you where told but in reality he would own and engulf your soul into his like a barracuda and a little clown fish.

His face twirled round with a bell like ring to a happy one, he stretched out his hand and hummed a laugh, he acted like you had just proposed to him and honestly you felt like you just had.

"Just shake my hand, shake it and anything you could ever want shall be yours" his words were intoxicating, you never had shook a hand so fast in your life a smile as bright as the sun placed itself neatly on your face until...his face, it spun around and around at a speed you haven't seen, it only lasted a few seconds until his face landed on a horrid face..it was evil and full of malicious intent, the floorboards started to dance as lights and smoke from under them poured out and he laughed

"Hmhmhmhm yess....yessss" the walls started to pound as a snake quickly shot out from behind him and wrapped around your two hands, preventing you from running away as it quickly sunk its teeth into you wrist, he only laughed harder in your face as he suddenly spun you around and let go of you to fall onto the ground, the snake curlled up and turned into ash.

You looked around in horror trying to comprehend what the hell was going on but suddenly Jaakobah plunged his hand into you chest and pulled out your heart but ehen you went to reach for your chest it felt fine

"you've got what you wanted"

He said the floorboards and walls still pounding as if there was an angry mob pounding to get it, he then stood at full height before he opened up his robe thing on tucked your soul away...suddenly you felt less like a whole inside you had just been excavated. A chain wrapped around your neck and it glowed in greens and pink sealing your fate.

"And you've lost what you had."

[undead-merman]

Day Sixteen: Vampire Sugar Daddy

Avery and Male Pc

Contains: light exhibitionism, passing out from blood drinking.

You had put your best suit on, made sure your makeup was done just perfectly, you even had robin do the finishing touches to make the lines extra sharp and clean. You stood back and Robin dusted his hands. “You look great!” He fished around in his dresser and pulled out his hand mirror to offer to you.

There staring back from your reflection was your handsome self. The colors of your makeup done in a deep crimson, black and white. Your hair was fluffed and freshly blow-dried. Robin was looking over your shoulder, taking in the reflection along with you. “I wish you would come with us this year. After this, I don’t think it’s socially acceptable to go trick or treating.” he ends it with a laugh, though you can hear the melancholy in certain words.

“I can’t miss this party, Avery would kill me, I already promised him I’d go.” You pull him in close and let him wrap his arms around your middle. His hugs were always so warm and toasty, like a blanket fresh out of the drier. This one felt a bit more desperate than some of the others. “Come on Robin, Next year we can move out and we can have our own celebration. Me and you.”

You heard him mumble something, though you could only catch ‘Avery’ in his whisper. You nudge him and he pulled away, grumbling. “Just make sure you have at least some fun.” He slowly shuffles to the bed where he offers you your mask back.

You take it and laugh at his attitude. He’s heard about your dates with the older man. He’s not thrilled about the party nor your dates with him. But you had to do what was best for the both of you. Avery was kind enough and paid well, how could you say no?

You placed the masquerade mask on your face and took a moment to look at yourself. You're sure this would not only meet Avery's standards but surpass them. He always liked it when you fluffed your hair, took some extra time for makeup. You check your watch, speaking of extra time. “I should get going. Thanks for your help Robin, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, you're the one who got me into makeup anyway.” And he does a damn good job. You really wish he would stop selling lemonade and look into being a makeup artist. You pat him on the shoulder and briskly walk outside.

The moon was high tonight, a foreboding red that cast it’s light down on this hellhole of a town. Fitting for tonight. People were already out, even though it was still pretty early. Avery had planned your date extra early this week. He had given you the outfit and everything. Normally he just wanted you to show up in something nice so he could show you off, fuck you, and then toss you a couple hundred before speeding off. Maybe you impressed him enough to take you somewhere a bit more special… but knowing him you really doubt it.

You watched parents chase around their young ones, some of them staring at your lavish suit and mask. You’ve gotten used to stares, they don’t bother you anymore. You simply tapped your foot and tried to find the strangest costume that passed by. You’ll give that award to the kid dressed as a toothbrush. Right on time. In his overly expensive car, the brand evades you, even though you’re sure Avery has mentioned it a few times. Inside was the brilliantly dressed man, matching your own, though much more elegant. He looks like one of those old Victorian vampires, frills and all.

“The suit fits you well. Dashing as always.” The fancy playboy smile of his had a fake canine pointing out. Damn, even his rearview mirror has a new vampire themed freshener. He steps out and comes face to face with you, offering his hand like a gentleman.

“You’re the one who picked it out. Seems like you know me best.” Just from that eyebrow cocking and smirk, you knew that tickled him.

“Seems so. Hop in, we are going to some place different tonight.” He opens the door and helps you in.

He gets in after and turns on the radio, he doesn’t do that often unless he’s going on a longer trip. You funnel that in your mental notes as you look out the window. You wish you could have gone with Robin. You don’t let out the sigh you have trapped behind your teeth, you hold it in and wait for your destination.

You didn’t have to wait long, it felt like you blinked and arrived. You shake your head of the sudden time blindness and look around. You don’t remember any place like this. It’s an older place, older than vintage yet not enough to be ancient. Stone with a long driveway and tons of cars all along it. All centered around a marvelous marble fountain. For some odd reason, you couldn't keep your eyes off that marble figure. Even from this distance it looked so real, so lifelike, and so familiar. Like you'd seen that face a million times.

You didn’t even realize you were so lost in it until Avery placed a hand on your thigh. “Ready?”

Your breath left you, blinking yourself free of whatever spell was placed on you, you nod. He helps you out and passes his keys to the valet, and takes a grand walk-up to the front entrance. Was this even in your town? It felt like some fairy tale, or some kind of lucid dream. Crystal candlers, candles all over, the smell of expensive perfumes and wine. You hardly felt worthy to wear the outfit Avery gave you, let alone walking into this place.

You knew better than to ask Avery what was going on. Just smile, act like a gentleman and only show off when you knew it would make him look good. So you calmed up before the question could come up and took Avery’s arm. Folks in their own masks greeted him, smiling down at you with predatory grins making you scoot closer to the older man. He didn’t seem to mind one little bit, if anything you felt as if he puffed out his chest and squared his shoulder’s a bit more.

You blazed by introductions, a smile, a nod, bat your eyelashes when Avery nudged you. Your eyes were focused elsewhere as they spoke. Taking in the dozens of furs, feather, sequins, and jewels that were all over the other party goers. The more important people were easier to spot. They had overly flamboyant masks, suits, and dresses. Hell, they must have had their nipples bedazzled at that point.

On their arms were others like you. Matching outfits, though less impressive and toned down to just look a bit more sophisticated than the common suit and dress. All of them right by their “master’s” side. One even had a nice little silver leash. Thank god, Avery isn’t that bad.

Other than the outfits, it wasn’t much different from some of the other dates you’ve had with the man. A dance, holding some wine. You could have had a sack of candy to trade and stuff yourself fat with. You once again had to bite back a sigh and force a sweet face. Maybe you’ll treat yourself to some discount candy after all this.

The lights suddenly die. Yet hardly a ruckus comes from it. With all these prissy people would be expected at least one gasp of terror. The quiet was unnerving.

Something brushes over your stomach and you tensed instantly. “Relax, it’s me, my little kitten.” it’s Avery’s voice. Low, husky, wanting. It’s not like him to use this voice in public. Saved only for the bedroom or in private.

Your hand laces over his, and you lean into him, not out of love, but fear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. Just know it’s planned.” His breath was hot on your neck. Each word had him coming closer and closer to your ear. His breath smelled so sweet. Alluring.

His lips found your neck and his teeth scraped up on the flesh. Those fake canines were still there? You didn’t think he’d be brave enough to do something like this. You allowed him to do as he wanted, your brain got fuzzy and it felt like the world was melting into only speech and sensations.

His teeth bit down harshly. It hurt like shit but the pain went straight to your own cock. You became hyperaware of the hand on your stomach, such a large thing it was. Pronounced with veins and thick masculine fingers and right at your belly button, a few inches away from your twitching cock. His lips and teeth on your most vital part.

Fuck, you wanted to be a victim, you wanted to be prey for him to devour and lick his fingers to after he’s done. You started feeling woozy, but the lust building inside you was replacing whatever was being taken from you. His fingers trail down, and it feels like a rapture ready to begin. Once his hand finally finds your bulge, it felt like salvation. You could feel yourself scream, but it came breathless and noiseless. His large palm rubs as he suckled your throat. Blackness creeped into your vision and you wanted nothing more than to cum, but you never felt it.

You didn’t even know you were gone.

[hime-bee]

*rubs hands together menacingly* fuckbuddy hoederer?? ohhhh i'm gonna have fun with this one,,

it works in your favor, seeing as intimacy isn't exactly on the plate for someone of your standing. being the doctor of rhodes island isn't exactly a position that allows you the leeway of what could be considered a normal romance (what, with all the eccentric characters that are your operators). but it does allow you some room to at least weasel in some sessions of getting dicked down. and hoederer is the one who suits your fancy, even if he responds rather awkwardly to your little teasings. you're well aware that he doesn't hold you in the same regard that any of your other operators do, but that's not the end of the world.

hoederer adapts surprisingly well to being your fuckbuddy, even if he's a bit stiff the first few times around. he's certainly not used to you being so forward and bold with your advances, though you work around what makes him comfortable. and you did assure him that your little meetups wouldn't affect his standing within rhodes island, but you did ask that he keep it a secret, especially from w of all people. she'd never let it go if she found out you were getting fucked by what was essentially her father figure, and she'd certainly never let you hear the end of it.

the way hoederer fucks you certainly affirms your choice of picking him for your fuckbuddy. it does take a lil' bit to really get him going, but you've figured out that he needs a good handful of affirmation and gentle touches before he's rearing to go and you can get on all four limbs for him. he fucks you so hard that he keeps slamming against your cervix and making your head go blank from the sensations alone. sometimes when you want to feel just how strong he is, you'll place your hands against the wall and playfully wiggle your hips until he fills you up with that huge dick of his. it's not fair, really, how easily you fall apart to the point where he has to lift your hips up himself and keep fucking into your cunt while you squeal and moan like a needy slut.

he's the type of fuckbuddy who pushes your head down into the mattress while he's pounding into you from behind, your sobs and moans muffled as he hits so deep that you can feel him in your stomach. whether it be intentional or not, just feeling his raw strength is enough to have you creaming around his dick over and over. even if he does offer an apology for getting too rough, it's pretty clear from your pleasure-slack expression that you enjoyed every second of his manhandling.

but the one time you coaxed him into fucking you raw? oh, that really did it in for you. it just felt so damn good with how much of his release he filled you with, and you couldn't stop moaning for him to hurry and knock you up and how badly you wanted his babies. and—oh? looks like he's getting pretty into it too, despite that conflicted look in his eyes. seems like even your war-exhausted fuckbuddy wasn't immune to becoming weak at the thought of knocking you up~

(you gave me an inch and i took a mile >:3c hope this lil' thirst can help with any potential hoederer smut ideas once you're all healed up and feeling much better! <33)

I'M??? LATI????? You really got me over here blushing, no lie 😭 I rarely get flustered by smut anymore, SHEESH- I've reread this so many times, I stopped counting LOL

Ma'am, you're feeding me graciously and I can't thank you enough for these full course meals fr. You've given me such a good idea for a fic, I can't WAIT till my hands heal up, I'm gonna be all over that old man like white on rice, just watch me 😩😩 If you end up writing for him as well, I can guarantee I'll eat that up too 😌💦💦

[plagueybirb]

More BOTW/TOTK Era Termina. Because why not. This time, we're talking about some Sheikah characters!

Let's just start by establishing that I subscribe to the Termina Sheikah having purple hair theory. Mostly that aggressively bright purple, but any shade of purple really. It sort of pales as they get older, but some are just naturally born with a very light off-white sort of purpleish tint to their hair.

Moving on.

Y'all know the fisherman's hut and the Great Bay spider house? Yeah, Sheik, Paya, and Impa live there. They run the ocean fishing hole! Purah would've joined in on the family business, but science was her calling, so I'd say she moved to Clock Town and now runs the observatory. She still visits of course, she's just not very interested in the fishing business. She's got the bright violet hair of the family.

Termina's Impa owns the place, and there's a very good reason it exists even though there's literally an entire pirate fortress just a lightning strike away. You simply do not mess with Termina Impa, even when she's a little old grey haired granny just hanging out at the counter. Let's just say she's got connections.

Paya is the eldest grandchild, she's the one you're gonna see most often if it's not Impa at the counter. She enjoys the quiet, and is actually a very accomplished sailor. She knows her stuff, and is probably going to be the one officially taking over the family business. Easily the best swimmer in the family, she's the one retrieving poles that get lost in the shallows, occasionally joins the Zora in swimming races and has won before. I think she's got a pretty lavender shade for her hair.

Sheik is Paya's younger brother in this one. If you see a Gold Skulltula, it's more than likely one of his. They're critically endangered after a certain green boy of legend visited, and it's literally taken eons to rebuild the population because people will not stop stabbing them. He's not all that interested in fishing compared to Paya, he willingly ditches the ocean fishing hole entirely sometimes to go hang out with the cool old swamp hermit selling potions at his own fishing hole business. Sheik comes back knowing how to throw fireballs at annoying customers. He's so blonde compared to the rest of the family he just tells people that Impa picked him up off the streets to work for her shadowy secret thief empire.

Paya tells people that blonde just crops up in her family bloodline on occasion and he's 100% her baby brother. Impa tells people she bought him from either the pirates or the Garo, she can't remember. Purah tells people she experimented on him as an infant trying to find the secret to eternal youth. No one knows what to believe, and the story changes every time someone asks. All anyone knows for sure is that Sheik's permanently banned from the Milk Bar.

Next up is Dorian and his daughters! Dorian is a close family friend and does his best to keep Sheik and Paya out of trouble when they visit Clock Town. He's a guard for the mayor (probably Captain of the guard honestly, Cado is a very close second), and his daughters are both in the Bombers Secret Society of Justice with Tulin.

Dorian's wife is still dead. Sorry everyone.

ANYWAY.

Most of the other named Sheikah we see in game live in or near Ikana I'd think. Perhaps they helped rebuild it once upon a time and now just are honored citizens. Obviously not all of them live there, there is a Kakariko sort of village somewhere in Termina, it's just INCREDIBLY well hidden. For certain reasons. No one is allowed to visit. And heaven forbid you come across it accidentally.

And now, last but certainly not least, Robbie and family!

Robbie invented Termina's first electric guitar. He's got it rigged to play a sick riff whenever he strikes a pose. That's literally it's only purpose. He'll sell the secrets of his invention when he's dead.

Jerrin seems like she'd work in a museum, studying old legends and artifacts from millions of years ago. Her latest topic of study is an ancient artifact that was dug up recently in Ikana, a strange blue flute that seems impossibly old and yet brand new at the same time. She has a little clockwork assistant! (It's Cherry)

Their son, Granté works there occasionally too, but mostly he's with his own research team studying Stone Tower Temple. Especially that mysterious hole in the ceiling. Legends say there's a portal to another world there, and he hopes to be the one to discover it.