#look i know it's because i watched this scene countless times not even counting seeing the gifs and im sure every ep has

[epiphainie]

if no one's gonna say it, i will. the way tommy's collar and hoodie strings get messed up between shots during the coffee scene annoys the fuck out of me

[sevikasupremacy]

Can you write something about grayson who's busy lots of the time with sexually frustrated reader ✋

Oh this is gonna be very interesting ;)

Grayson x SexuallyFrustrated!Reader

NSFW!

➼ Everyone knows how hardworking Grayson is. She’s a Sheriff for a reason.

➼ And you fully understood that too when you agreed to take your relationship with her to the next step.

➼ You rarely spend time with her at home due to the endless responsibilities she had to take care of— but that didn’t really bother you… well, at the start of your relationship with her.

➼ I mean look at her—

➼ Can you really control yourself when she’s standing there looking like a three-coursed meal?

➼ You would be lying if you said you hadn’t taken her unwashed uniform from the laundry basket to sniff on as you touch yourself.

➼ Or how you would grind against the pillow while moaning her name.

➼ It literally drives you insane that it’s not Grayson who was touching you right now.

➼ Because of her busy schedule and duties that were assigned by the Council, Grayson usually comes home really late.

➼ You tried to stay awake to wait for her but you failed countless of times.

➼ But it’s not like you never get what you want—

➼ You count it as a lucky day if Grayson comes home early.

➼ That’s when you get to spend more time with her, and of course…it always results in the two of you naked in bed, gasping for air.

➼ And whenever you guys had the chance to fuck, you just couldn’t get enough of it.

➼ One round was never enough.

➼ Grayson is very gentle in bed. *She’s a soft dom*

➼ But deep down, you kinda wished she was more rough.

➼ Honestly Grayson never knew how fucking needy you were

➼ Not until one night when she wanted to surprise you with a bouquet of flowers for your anniversary.

➼ Grayson eagerly opened the door to her house and headed to the bedroom, hiding the flower bouquet behind her.

➼ Just as she was about to turn the doorknob, the calling of her name made her pause.

➼ She stood there dumbfounded for a second before slightly opening the door, peeking inside.

➼ And what she saw was a jaw-dropping scene.

➼ You were sprawled on the bed, clothes scattered onto the floor as you played with yourself.

➼ You craned your neck, your two fingers pumping in and out of you as you continued moaning your lover’s name.

➼ Just as you were starting to feel the familiar knot building up inside your stomach, a voice made you freeze.

➼ “Darling..?”

➼ Your eyes flew open, immediately pulling your fingers out before sitting up to stare at the stunned woman in front of you.

➼ Well now you’re caught

➼ Before you could even utter another word, your precious flower bouquet was already thrown across the room and onto the sofa.

➼ And you were met with a lustful pair of eyes.

➼ “Continue, Dear… Why did you stop? Do you play with yourself often? Show me exactly how you do it.”

➼ You bit your lip in embarrassment as your two fingers returned to your throbbing entrance.

➼ Grayson’s eyes were fixated on every single movement.

➼ She watched how your fingers would disappear inside you.

➼ She would watch you until you ride your orgasm before overstimulating you.

➼ This was what you wished for after all—

➼ Let’s just say that she didn’t let you take a break after seeing that.

➼ Honestly, you lost track of how many rounds it had been.

➼ But you had to admit—

➼ You enjoyed every second of it :)

[hugheshischier4313]

YOU MISS HIM DON’T YOU | Q. HUGHES

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x reader

Warnings: maybe emotional cheating?

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Hi lovelies! I was rewatching desperate housewives and a certain scene encouraged me to write something similar. It was supposed to be a quick little Drabble/blurb but im at 10 pages now and still not done. So here’s a snippet :)

———————————————————————

Quinn had known about your boyfriend from the very beginning. He had seen you together, bringing boxes to the apartment beside his, and noticed you immediately. He wished he could say it had all been innocent, but the first thing he saw was how your legs looked in the tennis skirt you had been wearing. You bent down to pick up a fallen pillow as he exited his car in the parking garage. His eyes lingered on you, and he forced himself to turn away before you noticed. He swore he would offer to help you before he met eyes with Andrew as he stepped out of the parking garage elevator.

"I didn't mean to; it just happened. You were bent over, in a skirt, right outside my car; it was hard to look away when I didn't expect you to be there." Quinn had a slight pink tone to his features right now, and you were smiling, trying to suppress a laugh. You stood in the kitchen, pouring the margaritas into your cups.

"You mean the skirt I'm wearing right now? Is that why you mentioned it? Quinn, you could have kept that secret forever. I mean, you couldn't waterboard that information out of me." You were always more giggly when drinking, which was contagious to Quinn. "But since you didn't, I'm gonna use this against you for the foreseeable future."  The laugh left you when you got back to Quinn's couch. "I'll try not to make any sudden movements that may catch you off guard," you teased as you stood before him and handed him his drink.

"It's not funny; I've felt bad about this for months." he tried to be serious, but the smile never left his face. As you nodded with a smirk on your lip, you turned from him after he grabbed the glass, "Y/N, I'm serious." He wasn't; he could never stay upset with you, even in a joking manner. 

"I guess I'll just go back to my apartment then; I don't want to bring back any of your past shame." your body once again turned towards him as you leaned down over to hug him, "Bye, Hughes, I'll make sure to only wear this when you're out of town." He let out a sarcastic 'ha.' "You don't have to leave; I can control myself. I promise." he rolled his eyes and slowly got up to stop you.

"I don't know; I think the only logical answer is to wear your Drew sweats." You had pivoted and ran to his room before he could reply. You had bugged him countless times to try them on over the past months; you had just wanted to see if they were worth the hype because the black sweats had been sold out forever (and maybe, subconsciously, because of your past love for Justin Bieber). And every time he said no, you took this as your opportunity to try them and bug him simultaneously.

Being in Quinn's room was familiar to you. You had spent most days at one of the two apartments, and sometimes that meant laying in his bed watching TV after he had just returned from a string of away games or after a challenging game or practice. You had worn his clothes before, too; it was always in a platonic way, the first time you had locked yourself out after being out on a run when it started raining. You lost your key on the run, and the concierge was gone for the night. You had also spent the night; he let you sleep in his bed and took the couch. 

As you ran into the room, you closed the door behind you and walked into the closet, closing that door, too. You had found the sweats and slowly walked out of the closet. There was no sight of Quinn, and the bedroom door was still closed. You walked towards the door, sweats in your hand, as you called out to him, "Q? Are you -" But you were cut off as he tackled you onto the bed next to you.

The two of you lay on the bed laughing before turning to face each other. The laughter died down, and you were smiling and looking at each other. The two of you lay there for a while, not saying anything until you broke the silence, "Your eyes are a different colour every time I see you, but today I can see every shade in them." You don't know why you needed to share your observation with him, but it felt right. "You cut your hair." He reached out to tuck a strand behind your ear and play with the end of another. His voice had been so him, soft yet dominant. It was true; you had gotten a slight trim the day before and a few longer layers at the bottom of your hair, a small and simple detail that could have been missed. In fact, he was the only person to notice; none of your classmates or even Andrew, although over Facetime, had noticed. 

The room felt heavy as you looked from his hand in your hair to his eyes again, stopping to look at his lips for a second. And when you reached his gaze, it was unreadable. "I -" A phone began to ring as Quinn was about to speak. You could see a shift in his demeanour as you continued to look at him. He got up to find the cause of the sound. "It's your phone." He walked it over to you before heading out to the living room again. The phone illuminated ANDREW CALLING.

You looked towards the empty doorway as you brought the phone up to your ear. "Hey you," your playful voice sounded forced, and the smile on your lips was even more so. "Hey, I have a surprise for you. The notification said it was in the lobby." This shocked you, not only because it was a surprise but because Andrew was never one for small gestures. It was always something big like him ordering 4 dozen roses to your desk after your fourth date. But he had never just sent you or given you something randomly.

Andrew could be a sweet guy; you worked together before he asked you to have dinner with him. You knew you were moving and had no intention of starting anything serious before moving to Vancouver, but he had been so persistent, and it felt nice to have a distraction with all the craziness of moving. But living in different provinces has brought no comfort to either of you. It felt like pen pals most of the time. You would call him a few times a week and talk for an hour before he had to go. There had been a few times where you could have sworn you heard someone else there, but the times you mentioned it, it felt like the fight had been more trouble than the issue itself.

And maybe subconsciously, you felt like a hypocrite. Your relationship with Quinn was platonic, but the number of times you were confused as a couple in public could be seen another way. In fact, you hated to admit it, but it felt like you communicated more with Quinn when he was away than with your boyfriend. 

"There's something for me in the lobby of my apartment complex? Andrew, what did you do? It's 7pm?" As you started talking, Quinn walked into view, bringing your drinks and extending to you. "It's a surprise; you should go get it now; I'm assuming it's just on the concierge desk based on the picture." You stared up at Quinn as you listened to Andrew, "Okay, I'll be down in a minute, and I'll call you back once I have it." The phone call was quickly over. 

"What did you order?" Quinn asked with a smile, used to all the packages you've received. A few that had been too heavy for you to carry on your own that Quinn had taken himself. Even when they hadn't been too heavy, he would carry them for you if he was there. "I'm not sure, Andrew sent it to me." You could have sworn there was a look on his face that was gone as quickly as it appeared. "You want me to go with you in case you need help?" there was no hesitation in your quick reply of 'yes.'

As the two of you walked down the hall, you were overly aware of the distance between you. It was no different than it had been in the past, but there was a particular charge. The words shared and unshared in the bedroom hung heavy. "So I never got to even put the sweats on," you joked while waiting in front of the elevator. "You can borrow them when we get back up if you want," his answer made your breath hitch. He had never let you try them on, much less borrow them.

He looked at you, letting you walk into the elevator first. The ride down was quick and quiet, but how you looked at each other made everything race faster. Your heartbeat quickened as you saw his slight deviation towards your lips before making their way back up. "Quinn," your voice came out as a low plea; whether it was to continue or to stop was uncertain. He stepped closer to you as the two of you stood in silence for a brief moment before the doors opened. As you stepped out, your heart felt heavy.

As you made your way towards the front desk, you saw the back of a man at the desk, but when you heard the voice,  it made you freeze. Andrew, he was in your lobby waiting for you, Quinn failed to notice your pause and ran into you. However, before you could tip forward, Quinn had steadied you with a hand on your arm and waist. Andrew called out when he turned around. 

"Andrew! What are you doing here?" You didn't miss the look he gave the sight of the two of you or how his gaze only lingered on Quinn's hand on your waist as he walked closer. You unhooked yourself from Quinn to hug Andrew. The hug was stiff; he held himself higher, and his head hadn't moved from the position it had been in before. You figured he was still looking at Quinn. 

"I wanted to surprise you; we settled a case earlier than expected, so I took a few days off." You had pulled yourself to his side, a view of both him and Quinn. They kept looking towards each other, completely ignoring you. "Well, Andrew, this is my friend I always tell you about, Quinn. He introduced himself the day I moved in, remember? He lives next door to me." Andrew smiled down at you as you continued. "Quinn, you remember Andrew." Quinn looked from you to Andrew before extending his hand. "Good to see you again, man." Andrew hesitated before shaking his hand. 

There was a quick silence before Quinn grabbed his phone from his pocket and looked at the screen, excusing himself, "I have to make a phone call; I'll see you around," but before he could walk off, you gave him a side hug goodbye. You had done it a thousand times before, and feeling like you couldn't because Andrew was there didn't feel like a good sign, so you did it anyway. "I'll text you," you quietly said as you let go.

The next few days had been uneventful, showing Andrew around Vancouver. The hallway had felt unusually empty each time you passed, hoping to run into Quinn. A string of away games was starting that Monday, and when you came back from dropping off Andrew at the airport on Sunday night, you noticed the bag sitting in front of your apartment door. 

The black sweats were inside with a note, 'I'll pick them up when I'm back. Enjoy :). ~ Q" He never asked for them back

———————————————————————

[madschiavelique]

Okay but picture this, Miguel getting jealous cause of another spiderperson flirting with you

Like he is doing a briefing with a lot of spider people and one of them keeps trying to get your attention and miguel gets jealous, sends everyone away and has a heavily make out on his platform in his office🫣

HIHIHI twirling hair kicking feet at this bestie

summary : miguel gets jealous of a random spiderperson flirting with you (not proofread)

content warnings : posessive!miguel, just jealous miguel, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 1,9k

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel had invited a good group of spiderpersons who were still fairly new to the society, to bring them up to speed or simply to remind them of the procedures to follow on a mission.

You were there, just to supervise. Having been part of Miguel's elite group of spiders for some time now, you were perfectly familiar with all the criteria and stages of the anomaly hunt.

Nothing more than a quick briefing. The usual team was there, Hobie, Gwen, Pavitr, Peter B, Jess and you. You stood off to the side, leaning against a wall, arms folded as you watched Miguel give his speech a bit farther away.

"Hey, I've never seen you around before, do we know each other ?

Your eyes went to the person who had just spoken to you. It was an umpteenth Peter, blond-haired, not far from your age, and of course new.

Although you didn't appear everywhere all the time, most of the spiders knew what Miguel's group looked like. So you were a little surprised by his remark, but not enough for it to be too striking.

"You might've seen me on his team," you said, pointing with your chin at your boyfriend, who you hoped wasn't terrorising the newcomers too much.

You tried to refocus on Miguel's speech. Your relationship with him was not public; you had agreed that, for the time being, you would prefer to keep it a secret. There were several reasons for this, such as the fact that you might be seen as a spider with more privileges than the others - which wasn't the case - or the fact that you simply wanted to avoid trouble. This lack of information didn't stop Peter from coming back for a chat.

"So... what's your name ?"

You didn't even look at him, simply giving him your name and alias.

"And you're a new Peter," you sighed.

"You never get enough Peters, am I right?" he smiled, "although I'm obviously unique in my own way.

"Unique?" you smiled with a little chuckle, "how?", because Peters looked and acted the same, they were after all Peters, so you wondered how he would stand out.

"Like this," he approached you, tucking his fingers behind your ear and bringing his hand into your field of vision so that you could see a little flower between his fingers.

You gave a little laugh, taking the flower in your hand. It was soft, light and smelled wonderful.

"A Peter magician?" you pouted, shaking your head, "that's progress."

Miguel was going over the formalities of multidimensional cells when his gaze inevitably drifted to you. But he froze, tensing up as his eyes took in the little scene unfolding nearby.

You, against a wall, an ordinary Peter caressing your ear to perform a crummy magic trick and make a flower come out of it. Too close... he thought, he was too close to you. He didn't appreciate the proximity with which he approached you. Of course, the other team-mates in his squad could allow themselves to be close to you, whether you were in their arms or whatever, but for one of the countless Peters here to allow himself to be at your level? That he could not condone.

He saw a small smile forming on your face, his blood boiling. Wasn't he good enough for you? Was it because he didn't give you enough affection that you let any spider approach you? Or was it that he didn't do you enough favours, like performing magic tricks?

But Miguel was so good to you, it was almost impossible to get out of his arms when he hugged you. He gave you everything he could give you, even loving you to the point of giving you the last empanada left in the cafeteria if there was only one left, no matter how much he wanted it, and that's how passionate he was about you.

So maybe... you didn't realise that Peter was flirting with you?

Ah, maybe that was it, maybe you were just oblivious to what the nerd was trying to do?

And the Peter took another step.

That one step was too much.

"Well, you've got most of the information. We're going to cut this meeting short, you can all go." he warned, teeth clenched.

The elite team itself looked surprised as all the other Spiderpersons scattered to leave the room.

"Miguel? Is there something wrong ?" asked Peter B, concerned that perhaps the reason everyone had just been dismissed was because of something he had received from Lyla that was important.

But his eyes were riveted like arrows ready to be shot at the Peter who was still chatting to you.

"I just have to take care of a little problem," his eyebrows were furrowed, jaw tight.

Peter B's eyes drifted back to where his were, letting out a quiet "Oh" before calling the rest of the team and persuading them to come with him to... whatever it was for, as long as the elite were leaving too.

"And so you caught three anomalies in a single mission?" said Peter, absolutely amazed by the feats you were telling him about.

"Yes, it's becoming routine," you confirmed.

You noticed the room beginning to empty, and deduced that the meeting must have ended.

"I'm so happy that there are Spiderwomen around, and as competent as you are," continued Peter, chatting to you, "especially when I see that they're as beautiful as you are."

"That's very kind of you," you say simply, "the meeting's just finished, I think you'd better leave before you get your knuckles rapped."

Advice from someone with a very strict boyfriend on organisation, you thought.

"Could we meet again? How about the cafeteria?" he offered.

"That's very nice of you to suggest, but-" you bit the inside of your cheek as he cut you off.

"Oh, or maybe the park? I hear there's an ice-cream parlour that sells ice-creams in our likeness." he laughed softly.

"Would you look at that."

You swallow, his voice was strained and falsely interested, your eyes landing on Miguel who'd just arrived near you.

It's almost comical how tall Miguel was compared to him, towering over him in both mass and size to the point where he could crush him like a tin can.

"Oh Miguel O'Hara-" greeted Peter as if nothing had happened.

"I've never seen you here before," Miguel remarked, a vicious flash in his eyes.

He intended to take great pleasure in showing how much better he was than Peter, and above all in making sure he understood that you weren't interested in his advances.

"Oh yes sir, I'm Peter," he said.

"How original," said Miguel in a honeyed, falsely curious tone, glancing at you.

"The Peters must be the best for there to be so many of them," laughed Peter, and you felt like pinching the bridge of your nose.

"I see them more as a weed that hangs around," he said, looking into poor Peter's eyes, Miguel looming over him.

"Well, I think you should join the other Spiderpersons," you simply breathed with a polite smile.

"Yeah um," he swallowed, lowering his eyes from Miguel's to meet yours, he was appalled. "I'll see you sometime maybe ?"

"Never," Miguel decided.

Peter took a few steps backwards, unable to say anything else, and headed for the exit.

"You look upset, what's wrong?" you asked as Miguel headed for the control platform.

"I see you made a new friend?" asked Miguel, his eyes locking onto you with a dark gleam as he stepped onto the platform.

"Not really," you replied, your voice a little smaller as you in turn joined him on it, coming to sit on one of the desks.

"What did he want?" he asked, his tone insistent as he looked at you, standing and taking a step forward.

"Nothing special, he wanted to get acquainted," you said softly as he took a step forward, his eyes gleaming strangely.

"Just getting to know each other?" he said, arriving just in front of you and placing his two hands on either side of your thighs, tilting his head to the side, questioningly. "You're naive if you think he just wants to be your friend."

His face was close to yours, his whole body almost covering you, leaving you unable to move or get away. Your eyes locked with his a little more, and you understood, a small smile forming on your lips.

You put your hand on his cheek, and he pressed against your touch.

"Do I detect some jealousy there?"

He sighed, his jaw contracting slightly, his tongue creating a tent in his cheek. You raised an eyebrow - was Miguel jealous?

His hand came to brush against your thigh, his fingers moving up until they settled and gripped you, pulling you towards him with this simple grip until your noses touched.

"I didn't like very much how he was so close to you," he admitted, his lips brushing yours.

He came to kiss you, demanding, his lips pressing almost brutally against yours as his other hand came to rest on the small of your back, the latter pressing to bring you closer to him.

You tried to respond to his kiss, his lips and jaw so strong that you felt he was going to engulf you.

He came and kissed your neck, a small sigh of comfort coming from between your lips, which were puffed out and moistened by his kiss.

"You know," you said softly as your fingers ran through his hair, "he never stood a chance against... you right ?"

The statement made his ego swell, as if a huge weight had just been lifted from his shoulders and he felt so light. His lips tenderly kissed your neck, and you felt it.

He sucked at your skin, marking it delicately. He needed, needed the others to know that you had someone. And although you both wanted what you had to be private, he had a terrible desire for people to know that you belonged to him, and not just anyone. He came back to your lips.

"Say that you're mine."

He had to hear it, from your lips that were full of him. You moistened them with a flick of your tongue, his eyes attentive, dark.

"I'm yours," you affirmed softly.

He came to kiss you again, pulling away from your lips to let his fall on your cheek.

"Make me believe it," he said, drunk on your skin. "Say that again."

His kisses covered your skin, wanting to coat it entirely with his lips so that he didn't miss any part of it.

"I'm yours," you whispered, drowning in his adoration as your fingers caressed his cheek.

"Again," he whispered as his lips kissed your eyelid.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your other hand coming around his chest to bring him closer to you.

"Again..." his voice was barely audible, kissing the tip of your nose.

Of course you were his, everything already belonged to him. Did he want your heart? It was full of him. Did he want your thoughts? He had replaced every one of your ideas. Did he want all of you? He would only have a body and a soul that was already attached to him.

When his lips returned to yours, it was you who kissed him, and he melted under the sensation of your lips on his.

"I'm yours."

Your eyes gazed at each other, each living in the other, and he wrapped his arms around you, pressing you hard against him, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment.

He wouldn't let any weeds near his flower.

[sunnyrisee]

Message In A Bottle — Bang Chan

pairing : idol! bang chan x fem! reader

genre : angst with fluff ending, childhood friends to lovers.

summary : you've been loving chan for as long as you can remember, but sadly, he was clueless. you bottled up all your feelings into notes, each folded into different shapes, hoping that one day you could give this bottle of emotions to him.

word count : 3,605

author's note : this is my first time writing on tumblr. also, inspired by fyp on tiktok (i honestly forgot the username). lastly, i apologize if there are any mistakes.

You loved him from the very beginning.

You've been there for him since childhood, watching him grow from a nobody into someone cherished by millions.

Years passed, and your bond with Chan only grew stronger. You were his best friend, his confidante, the one who always believed in him, even when no one else did. You were the one who gently rubbed circles on his back when the sad days overwhelmed him, dropping everything just to see Chan again and bring a smile to his face.

He only let you wrap your arms around him, only you play with his hair, only you caress his cheeks and wipe away his tears. You were his safe haven, his source of comfort in the storm.

It's always like that.

The day Stray Kids debuted was the happiest day of his life. And yours too, because you knew how much it meant to him. You stood in the crowd, tears streaming down your face, as you watched him light up the stage.

As the group gained popularity and recognition, that's when the distance between the two of you started to widen. It wasn't his fault; you understood the demands of his career.

Shouldn't you be happy for his success? Shouldn't you be proud of him? He had waited for this day to come, years of training and sacrifices finally paying off.

Thankfully, he still visits your apartment sometimes, though not as often as before. Back then, you used to talk about everything under the sun with him. Now, it's just a brief hello followed by a bitter goodbye that stings your heart.

As night fell, you found yourself flipping through your old photo album. There were pictures of little Chan and you, captured in moments of pure happiness, building sandcastles, watching sunsets, and running around together, laughing without a care in the world.

You look at your phone and see a message from Chan. You hate the way he can make your heart flutter and a warm feeling spread across your cheeks.

Somehow, a twinge of jealousy crept in. There were countless stunning idols who could easily catch his eye. You scrutinized yourself in the mirror, painfully aware of your differences.

You were just you, not like them—plain, ordinary, and feeling hopelessly inadequate.

But you tried to think positively, reminding yourself to wait for your turn. Chan had always told you to trust your heart and be patient. However, why did you feel such a tightness in your chest, as if tears were threatening to spill?

You sit there clutching your shirt, feeling the intense moment pierce your heart open. You don't know her, but all you can see is her slowly taking your place. It feels like you're watching your own nightmare unfold. God, she's more beautiful than you.

You try not to think of it, but each passing moment makes it harder to ignore. The way they laugh together, and the way Chan gently tucks her hair behind her ear, hurts you more than ever before. It's the same thing he used to do when you were studying hard for exams, a gesture that once brought you comfort and now only brings pain.

Once again, you try to hold back your tears that threaten to spill. You hide it quite well, but little did you know, Felix observed the way you shifted and how you looked away from the scene. He's the only one who knows about your feelings for Chan. He wants to approach you, but you slowly get up, ready to leave before anyone notices your teary eyes.

You hate seeing yourself this vulnerable. No, you've never felt this weak before.

You take your bag and pull out a bottle filled with paper folded into cute shapes. Each one contains messages you've been writing for Chan for all these years. It's your secret way of expressing yourself when words fail you, something Chan has never known about. You took out a small piece of paper and wrote one more message before you left. As you penned the words, you finally let your tears fall freely. You could only hear your painful sobs as you folded the paper into a heart shape.

'For My Channie'

You felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch slightly. Turning around, you saw the freckled boy with a big smile on his face.

"I made brownies, you know?" Felix grinned. "Thanks to your help that day, I finally didn't burn the kitchen down again."

His warm smile always melted your heart. Felix felt like a little brother to you. Whenever Chan wasn't around, he would check on you, asking if you had eaten or if you were okay. As soon as he saw the tear stains on your cheeks, he understood how much pain you were in. He had never seen you like this before.

"T-Thanks, Lix." You choked out, wiping away your tears. Felix then told you to wait as he quickly packed some of the brownies just for you.

"Here." He said gently, handing you a small package. His caring eyes met yours, offering a small glimmer of comfort in your moment of sorrow. You bowed to him gratefully and whispered a small thank you.

"Felix, could you give this bottle to Chan when he's alone?" You asked, handing him the bottle filled with paper folded into various shapes, each containing a message inside. He was confused at first, but then he nodded understandingly. Giving you a thumbs up, you quietly slipped away, hoping your message would reach Chan and convey everything your heart couldn't say aloud.

You looked at them for one last time, hoping that Chan would notice your absence. But he didn't seem to realize, continuing to talk and laugh with her. He looked so happy, so clearly in love. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the ache of everything weighing heavily on you. You slowly shut your eyes, trying not to care about what was happening.

As you arrived home, you burst into your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed. The floodgates opened, and you cried uncontrollably, your sobs echoing through the empty room. The pain and loneliness consumed you, each tear a testament to the heartache you had been holding back for so long. Your chest heaved with every breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. It felt like your heart was breaking all over again, and the tears seemed endless, soaking your pillow as you cried yourself into exhaustion.

"He doesn't care. He never did. Why would you fall for him, Y/n?" You whispered to yourself through your tears. "You should know better... He's an idol now."

You continued to cry as you gathered all the things that reminded you of him and put them into a box. You weren't going to throw them away; you just needed to put them out of sight so you could try to move on.

"Why did I let myself fall for you? And even make you my home... A home I can never get into... Despite knowing every corner of it's well..." You murmured softly, your voice cracking with emotion as you reflected on the depth of your feelings.

As the day went on, you focused on your job as a doctor, dedicating yourself wholeheartedly to helping others, much like Felix. Despite your busy shift, thoughts of Chan lingered in your mind. During breaks, you checked your messages, hoping for a notification from him, but there was nothing.

Why couldn't you just forget about him?

When you finally returned home, a message from him awaited you. He asked about your day and more, and you found yourself staring at the screen, unsure of how to react. Frozen in place, you felt a wave of mixed emotions wash over you, leaving you at a loss for what to do next.

Isn't this what you wanted? Why do you feel so afraid now, when it's finally happening? The conflicting emotions swirl within you, uncertainty clouding your heart despite longing for this moment.

A month without your calls, messages, and silly pick-up lines. Chan hated to admit that he missed your presence. He tried to reach out, asking how you were, if you had eaten, or if he could come to your apartment. However, every time he asked, you always had plenty of excuses.

It's like you're avoiding him.

"Hyung, after Y/n left the party that night, she gave me this. She said it's for you. I don't know, hyung, but when she left... I could tell she was holding back her tears." Felix handed Chan the bottle, and Chan took it, his brow furrowing in confusion. He turned it over in his hands, trying to understand its significance.

You're sad? Why didn't you tell him? What could have possibly made you this upset?

The bottle was from the time you were both still in high school. You both went to a park on a sunny afternoon, exploring a quaint antique truck that had caught your eye. Among them was a small, intricately designed bottle that had caught Y/n's attention. Chan had secretly bought it for you, knowing how much you admired it.

Now, clutching the same bottle in his hands, Chan wondered why Y/n had entrusted it to Felix. His mind raced with questions.

Felix observed Chan closely, hoping that he would finally realize your true feelings. Chan, however, seemed completely clueless.

Chan worked tirelessly until night fell, consumed with stress over the new song. His mind raced with thoughts, unable to focus. As he trailed off, lost in his thoughts, he noticed a little note peeking out from between the folded papers inside the bottle. He noticed that the bottle wasn't just filled with paper shapes.

He picked up one that was shaped like a star and carefully unfolded it.

"Today is Chan's first audition. I hope Chan gets it. He's been working hard for it."

A smile slowly spread across Chan's face as he read the note. His eyes softened with warmth, and a hint of nostalgia flickered in them. He took another paper shape, and carefully unfolded it.

"They finally get a first win! I'm so proud of them!"

He stifled a laugh as he remembered how the kids had cried when they were announced as the winners.

"Channie wants to buy a present for his parents. I'm going to save some money to help him :)"

The note revealed your thoughtful plan to assist Chan with buying a gift for his parents. He soon recalled his savings, surprised to realize that you had helped him accumulate them. That's when he took out all the notes and read through each one carefully. He noticed how the words became more emotional.

"Someday, I want to know not only the colors of you eyes but also the colors of your dreams."

"I told my family and friends to support Chan and all the StrayKids members. They need more recognition!"

"Happiness is when I am excited to meet you and you're excited to meet me too."

"It's your first time on stage, I can't believe how far you've come."

"Your eyes are the warmest place in the world even when I'm looking at them under the coldest rain."

"I hope my Channie is surrounded by people who care and love him. He deserves so much love."

"Don't you ever forget, your authenticity, the real you is more beautiful than all the well-received, striking, scenic facades in this world combined."

"You look tired these days. I hope you get much rest. Don't be such a workaholic, dumbass!"

"How's Korea? You look happier there. Glad to see you with that big smile. Well, I'm still studying here :D"

"When I'm by your side, it's like all of my fears, worries and anxieties melt away thanks to your warm presence."

"No one knows how to ignite the fire in my heart the way you do."

"Channie, I finally became a doctor. I kept my promise, and you are the first person I told :]"

"I'm so in love with you, Chan. In an instant, I knew what I felt. In a brief moment, I knew exactly that you were the one."

Chan read every single one of your notes, tears streaming down his face as he realized how clueless he had been all these years about your feelings. His smile faded as he remembered everything you had done for him—the way you dropped everything just to be there for him, always making time to listen to his thoughts and talk about seemingly unimportant things.

After all this time, you always there for him. His mind slowly repeating all the memories he have with you.

He thought of her long hair, cascading down her back like a silken waterfall. He could almost feel its softness, the way it slipped through his fingers. He remembered her soft smile, the one that could light up even his darkest days, a smile so pure and genuine that it made his heart swell with love.

Her beautiful features danced in his mind's eye, the curve of her lips, the sparkle in her eyes, the way she looked at him as if he were her whole world. He missed the sound of her laughter, the warmth of her embrace, the way she would nuzzle into his chest and sigh contentedly.

How could he have been so clueless?

There was one last paper shaped like a heart. As Chan examined it, he realized that the last paper was a bit messy. He softly opened it, his hands trembling slightly.

"And you know what? The reason why I kept holding on was, I always thought that perhaps, you were waiting for me, too..."

That was the last message. His tears, already streaming down, turned into uncontrollable sobs. How could he have been so oblivious? He cried out loud, unable to believe how foolish he had been. Chan clutched the heart-shaped paper to his chest, memories flooding his mind. The weight of his realization bore down on him, crushing his heart with the knowledge of what could have been.

Now, he couldn't think of anyone else he wanted to spend his life with. It has always been you.

A memory flashed in his mind of how deeply you cared for him, the only one who truly understood him, and the one who had always been there for him through thick and thin.

Felix stood in the doorway, watching Chan break down, his own heart aching for both of you. He had always known about your feelings, had seen the way you looked at Chan, the way you lit up whenever he was around. Now, seeing Chan's reaction, he hoped his friend would finally understand the depth of your love.

He quietly stepped in, placing a comforting hand on Chan's shoulder as he looked up at the younger boy.

"It's been a month, hyung. Do you know that she watched you, in pain, getting close to that girl?" He murmured softly. He described how tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed Chan caress the girl's hair. Chan's expression crumbled as he absorbed Felix's words, the weight of your unspoken pain settling heavily on his heart. He hadn't realized how much his actions had hurt you until now, and the regret gnawed at him.

"Yah! Are you trying to age yourself prematurely? Stop working so hard, it's showing!"

He stood up abruptly, determination replacing the sorrow on his face. He had to find you, to tell you that he finally understood, that he felt the same way. He couldn't let you slip away, not after everything. Chan grabbed his coat and headed to the door, leaving Felix standing silently. He couldn't shake the image of your tear-filled eyes and the pain he had caused you.

As he was on his way, traffic came to a standstill, and he cursed under his breath. Why was the world moving so slowly for him now? Was this some kind of punishment?

"I've been exhausted lately, pulling night shifts. The chilly nights only seem to make it worse."

As he drove to the hospital, memories of you filled his mind. He recalled the times you had mentioned how hard you worked, often taking night shifts at the hospital. He could feel the cold breeze seeping through, making him shiver. He cursed himself for telling you that you would survive and everything was fine.

He swore that even he might catch a cold from the frigid breeze.

With each breath turning to mist in the cold air, Chan hurried into the hospital. He sprinted through the corridors, regret pushing him forward, and discovered you in the break room, exhausted after a long shift.

"It would mean a lot if you knew that while you're caught up in your own world, you know I'm working just as hard."

It all became clear to him. All those times you talked about your work—the stress you faced, the small victories you cherished, and how you always tried to keep things positive despite your tiredness.

He watched from outside the door, and for the first time in his life, he was captivated by your beauty. Your hair, casually pulled into a ponytail, draped over your shoulders in flowing waves, emphasizing your effortless allure. The calming rhythm of your breath and the tranquil elegance of your sleeping pose created a breathtaking vision that left him awestruck.

"Apologies for not messaging you. Whenever I get exhausted, I crash in the break room."

The moment you opened your eyes, Chan's concerned face came into view, his expression a silent plea for forgiveness.

"Chris? W-What are you doing here?" You asked, trying to mask the hurt and confusion in your voice.

Chris—the government nickname you never use. Just hearing it made his heart ache, a painful reminder of the distance and misunderstandings between you.

Is this what you've been feeling all along?

He was lost in his own thoughts for several minutes before he managed to find an answer. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you. He felt an overwhelming urge to hold you close, to kiss you, but the words caught in his throat.

"I'm an idiot, Y/n. I only focused on my own life and goals while y-you were there watching and supporting me. I didn't see what was right in front of me all along. I didn't see how important you were until now. I'm sorry it t-took me this amount of time to truly understand your feelings..." Chan explained, his voice trembling.

"The truth, Y/n, is that I love you. It took me a long time to unravel the depths of my own heart. You're the missing piece that completes and brings together my scattered, disordered, and messy life... Baby, I'm gonna feel bad for myself if I never had a chance of knowing you in this, o-or any other lifetime. At the end of a challenging day, I just want to come home to your peaceful presence, rest my head on your stomach, and share all the day's burdens with you." He spoke, his voice breaking with emotion.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, the sincerity and desperation in his voice breaking down the walls you had built around your heart.

"And, Y/n. Yes, I've been w-waiting for you too, love." Chan said, his voice trembling, as tears cascaded down his cheeks. He stepped forward, pulling you into his arms.

You held him close as he cried on your shoulder, his sobs shaking his entire body. You whispered comforting words, gently rubbing his back, trying to soothe his anguish. His tears soaked through your shirt, but you didn't mind.

"Shh, it's okay, Chan. I'm here." You murmured softly. His grip on you tightened, as if he feared you might disappear if he let go.

"I'm so sorry, b-baby. I should have seen how much you were hurting. I love you so much, love. Please, forgive me..." He choked out between sobs, his voice filled with regret and pain. You shushed him gently, your fingers running through his hair.

"I love you too, Channie. I will always love you. A thousand year from now, I will still love you like I did a thousand years before." You comforted him, and he sought your warmth, clinging to you tightly.

Chan looked closely into your eyes, cupping your cheek and gently drawing your lips to his. He slowly pressed his lips to yours, in a kiss that spoke of deep passion, tender affection, and a softness that made your heart flutter. Time seemed to stand still, every second stretching into an eternity as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

You both gently pulled away as your eyes meeting in a moment of shared understanding. A smile blossomed on your lips, reflecting the warmth.

"The search is over. Amongst the loneliness of the universe, I've finally found you."

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Songs from my playlists that represent how the 141 loves you (+bonus König)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

“Wasteland” by Woodkid

Most of what I used to be had vanished in the waves/The memories of the boy I’ve been were drowning and you saved them/Now I remember the joy and the meaning of the fate/The color of the truth and the sound of sunny days

You have reminded him what it’s like be human again. When you look at him, he is Simon. He’s your Simon. He’s the man whose cheeks you’ve held countless times, kissing the corners of his eyes, tasting the paint on your lips but you couldn’t care less. Your small hands reach out time and time again and pull him back from the edge. And he’ll always take your hand, he might fight you at first, insistent that he’s too dangerous and that you’ll get hurt if you stay. But you always fight back. You’ll always fight your way back to him. You make him feel wanted, safe, human.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

“Everlong” by The Foo Fighters

Breathe out/So I can breathe you in/Hold you in/And now/I know you've always been/Out of your head/Out of my head, I sang

He’s such a hopeless romantic. You became his entire world, the light in his eyes, and when you two first met it was like coming up for air after being submerged for so long. And he never wants to let you go, he feels like it’s always been you. You’re the mile marker along the highway of his life, there is a ‘before’ and then there is only a ‘with you’. Nothing is as good when he’s on his own, but with you? The sun’s out, the birds are singing their stupid songs, the flowers are in full bloom, and he can breathe again.

John Price:

“Thank You” by Dido

Push the door I’m home at last/I’m soaking through and through/Then you handed me a towel/And all I see is you/And even if my house falls down now/I wouldn’t have a clue/Because you’re near me

You’re his motivation. You’re what gets him through his long days. Knowing that there’s a home with you waiting for him is what pushes him. He has a picture of you in his wallet that he always looks at, and he’s so fucking tired but he keeps going for you. To see you, to hold you, to kiss you, to cherish you. And when he finally comes home, his bones each weighing a million pounds, and he sees you, it all just melts away. Nothing matters. He tunnel visions and it’s just you. There’s nothing happening outside these walls, it’s just you, and that’s all he needs.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

“Lose It” by Oh Wonder

Downtown we let it go/Sunset high and our bodies low/Blood rush in the hazy glow/My hands, your bones/Looser we break the scene/One step deep as you fall to me/Heart clap, we skip a beat/Count one, two, three

He’s the warmth that flows through your veins, he’s the sun that shines on your cheeks, he’s the rhythmic sound of cars driving on wet asphalt after a storm. And you? Sweetheart, you’re the twinkle of city lights on the skyline, you’re the sound of laughter from a couple caught in the rain, you’re the steady soothing rhythm of a love song. You’re his favorite song. He’ll always move to your beat, hands on your hips, forehead against yours.

König:

“Just the Two of Us” by Grover Washington Jr, Bill Whithers

I see the crystal raindrops fall/And the beauty of it all/Is when the sun comes shining through/To make those rainbows in my mind/When I think of you sometime/And I wanna spend some time with you

He’s so at home with you. When you’re together all his worries melt away. Every thought that gets overplayed in his head start to quiet down the closer he is to you. There’s no one he’d rather be with than you. There is literally no one else in the world. And when you’re sat between his legs, reclined against his chest watching a movie, his heart is drumming in his chest. Only it’s not an anxious beat, it’s a beat that plays for you. It’s a beat that knows you’re the most wonderful thing in his life. You’re the sip of cold water in the middle of the night when his nightmares rip him from his sleep, you’re kissing his sweaty forehead and reminding him that you’re here. That it’s just the two of you. And he’s at peace again.

[gmariam321]

So I binge-read my biggest Torchwood fic this weekend. I'm still cringing over some of my writing, but otherwise you know what? It was still pretty good, particularly with plot and character. I'm proud of what I accomplished with my beta, who helped hash out so much of it. We had such fun working together! There's nothing like coming up with crazy ideas and figuring out a way to actually make them work. I also really like some of my original characters. Kind of makes me wonder why I don't ever write original characters with an original plot, but then I remember they need an original world, and I like the ready-made fictional worlds I write fanfic for. I have no real desire to build my own.

Anyway, the story was an alternate version of Children of Earth. I came to Torchwood after the series was over, but I think CoE did well in the ratings, didn't it? I feel like it was generally well received . . . until it wasn't. Aside from the devastating death of Ianto, there are countless plot holes that I'm guessing fans really started picking part online and then thought, hmmm, maybe it's not so good after all. We got some great Janto pics and gifs but their actual moments on screen were not the moments they could have been, you know? (True story: I convinced my parents and brother to watch it with me after they gave it to me for Christmas and at the end my dad had no idea Jack and Ianto were a couple. I think my mom figured it out but my dad totally didn't see it because it just wasn't enough. I still want to know why they were so weird from the beginning. I'm trying to remember if I wrote a story about it now...) And then fanfic exploded and there are now countless versions that are just..better. Stories that fix the plot holes of CoE and give Jack and Ianto the moments they deserved.

Fanfic really took Torchwood and elevated it. Sure, we wrote lots of smut (tentacles, anyone?) but we also gave relationships the depth we rarely saw on screen. We explained how Jack and Ianto came to be, even through all the new Big Finish revelations. We gave them real moments (and not just smutty ones.) We made them mortal and immortal. We saved Ianto countless times and let them travel the galaxy. We gave Gwen actual consequences and growth and even made her and Ianto good friends. We took the potential of the show, of 31 episodes and a few Doctor Who crossovers (sorry, I'm not counting the fourth season since most fanfic is set before it) and explored it over and over, showing readers not only what TW was but could have been. We filled in the missing scenes, expanded it, even rewrote it. I wrote over a hundred fics and probably read ten times that. What an amazing thing!

I'm so glad I was a part of it and have both good memories and some good stories to look back on. ❤️

[4younotafool]

When I felt as if blood had drained from ‘my’ body, that is when ‘I’ returned my consciousness. 

“..it’s been so long since I could feel my fingertips like this..” I mumbled under my breath, being able to move and look at my fingers like this on my own will was almost foreign. 

How laughable, this was my body and yet my mind fully believes it has become ‘hers’. 

The moment I lost my brother from that unknown God as we tried to flee from this world’s destruction and lost consciousness– 

I awakened trapped in my own mind, while I had to painfully watch as an unfamiliar ‘me’ took over my own body. It was as if my entire being had been robbed of me. 

‘Give it back! That’s my body!’

‘Just what on earth are you doing! I have to find my brother! Give it back at once!’

Countless times I cried and screamed, almost hopeless. Realizing almost immediately that she couldn’t hear me or was even aware I was here. I was left all alone, void of controlling even myself in this dark space of our mind.

I’m not so sure how long anymore. I have lost count, it felt like I was here for eternity. I cursed everyone, Gods or whoever spirit had done this. I cursed them many times, even this soul who has taken over my own self. 

Being alone and helpless was something I was not familiar with, I thought never would have thought how loneliness could do to a person until now. 

I felt it here. And I had almost lost my mind.

But the moment I saw how ‘I’ cried. I felt her emotions flowing into me, her memories, her consciousness, her thoughts– 

‘I hope Lumine will reunite with her brother soon. I hope she’s okay’

I forgave her for taking over my body. The soul of the person who was worried for me. 

Because she promised with all her heart that she would find my brother. 

No matter what it takes, no matter how long it takes. 

And I believed She would do that for me, because I watched over her maneuvering an unfamiliar world, befriending anyone in her journey.

Even when She had to defeat a dragon or someone more powerful than Her, She would do whatever it takes if it means even a single clue where my brother is. 

I couldn’t help but love Her. 

I enjoyed every little thing She does, Her clumsiness, Her bashful side, Her stern attitude, Her stubborn actions. 

I loved Her all the same, and I know She does too. 

The little girl Lumine who was left alone, everything taken away from her, She made sure She will never exist in this world.

“I swear, I will make Lumine the happiest girl in the world!”

And She did. 

All I needed to truly feel happy, was basked in dazzling scenes of Her adventures in Teyvat. Even if it wasn’t ‘me’ who was in there, because the moments of when She is happy, are when my heart is full. 

When She said that she wanted to ‘see Lumine be happy’, I understood what She meant. 

Just seeing Her live happily, brought me more joy than anyone else. 

But, those happy times came to an end…

When ‘I’ suddenly returned. 

And She was nowhere to be found.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Fortuna: Chapter Five

Fortuna: Born with what seemed to be the worst luck in the world, you have managed to get into, and out of, life-threatening situations all your life. That is until the plague of 1514. You had escaped Mother Death countless times before, but not this time. Mother Death has taken a liking to you, and with your kindling relationship, you become that which historians whisper about. You are the great Fortuna, Goddess Incarnate of luck, and ruler over fortune and fate. No one could have anticipated what your ties with Death would bring you: Pain. Torture. Death. Love.

Warnings: Emotional Breakdown, That Scene, Blood, Murder, Gore, Death. 

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x ImmortalSpanish!Reader, Reader’s nickname is Fortuna. Fortuna is the Roman Goddess of personified luck and ruler over fortune and fate.

Word Count: ~2.0k

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1926

You were picking wildflowers in the field just past your village, placing them in the basket you had brought with you upon departing from your cottage. You had tulips, gladiolus, and lavender… at the moment you were picking honeysuckle. It smelled heavenly and brought a smile to your lips from the memories of your mother filling the cottage with bunches of sweet-smelling flowers. You placed the honeysuckle in your basket and rose to your feet, basket in hand. As you turned back towards the village, one of the little girls in the village ran up to you. Her face was dirty and her dress ripped, but the smile on her face shone so brightly it rivaled that light of the sun. Peering down at her, you raised your eyebrow. 

“Please tell me you weren’t roughhousing with the boys again, Sofía,” You chided her, eyeing the rips on her dress more closely. “You know your mother can’t keep sewing your kirtle back together, she struggles enough with your brothers outgrowing their clothing.” Sofía kicked out her barefoot and didn’t look the least apologetic. You took that as a yes, she had been roughhousing with the boys again, but the stubborn little girl was not going to apologize for it. She reminded you of yourself. 

“Alejandro and Javier said I couldn’t play with them because I wouldn’t be able to keep up… so I proved them wrong.” Ah, yes, that would do it. Sofía, when told she couldn’t do something, tended to do it anyways just to prove that she could. You set the basket of flowers down and tried to neaten Sofía’s hair a little so her mother wouldn’t be as cross… but there wasn’t much you could do about her ripped dress. You looked up into Sofía’s brown eyes with your eyebrows raised. 

“I think your brothers were taunting you, Sofía,” She scowled at you and you chuckled. Then your eyes caught sight of someone leaning against one of the buildings in the village, watching you. You looked back to Sofía and held her hands. “Why don’t you run home before you get into any more trouble and give your mother even more grey hairs, yes?” Sofía huffed, but agreed and darted off. You picked up your basket of flowers and walked over to where Morpheus was leaning. “You know you could say hello, she doesn’t bite… that much.” Morpheus chuckled at your words and raised a dark eyebrow. 

“I could, but I enjoy watching you with the little ones.” He slowly drew out, his lips twitching and his voice, once again, making you shiver in delight. That was a secret of yours you were bound and determined to keep: you loved his voice. It was his secret vice to just watch you putter around your dream in happiness. Your smile was blinding and he had long since fallen in love with it. Well, he had long since fallen in love with you. You gave Morpheus a frank snort and tapped your basket absentmindedly. 

“Alright then, stay in your shadows, Dream Lord,” You teased him. “I would offer you coffee to drink but seeing as you never actually drink any…” Morpheus smirked at your jab. 

“I do not need sustenance, Fortuna,” You rolled your eyes and mumbled under your breath about his rather unadventurous lifestyle. Your muttered words only amused Morpheus further as he followed you back to your cottage, in stride with yours. Entering the cottage, you set the basket of flowers on the kitchen table and started gathering a bunch to put into a glass. They would be a nice addition to your simple kitchen. As you did so, Morpheus watched you carefully, noting that ever so often your face would scrunch in slight pain and you would shift your weight. He dropped his eyes to your hidden ankle. Even in dreams the old wound still gave you grief. “Fortuna,” He broached. You paused what you were doing and looked at him in curiosity. 

“Is something wrong, Morpheus?” Morpheus tilted his head to the side and eyed the lone chair in the room. 

“I should like you to sit down.” He spoke. You didn’t need to question why he asked you such a question. There wasn’t anything you could hide from him. So setting the flowers down, you made a spectacle of sitting down as asked, exaggerating your movement. Morpheus raised an eyebrow at you, amused by your response. Once seated, you tilted your head to the side and smiled innocently. 

“Is there anything else you should like me to do, my lord?” Morpheus chuckled at your facetious comment. 

“I fear you have been on your ankle far too long,” Morpheus spoke, lowering himself to one knee and reaching for your aching limb. He pulled your foot free of your skirts and lightly ran his fingers over your scarred flesh. His touch eased the ache and you sighed. “You should be taking more breaks, do not cause yourself pain you do not need to suffer,” Morpheus said, his star-like eyes peering into yours. You chewed on the edge of your lip and looked back down at the ankle he held. 

“Well I’m not doing it on purpos—“ You were jarred from your dream, jerking slightly in Morpheus’s arms. Your head, which had been resting on his shoulder as you slept, lifted as you blinked in confusion. What caused you to wake up? You had slept like a rock in the past decade thanks to Morpheus. Not only did he cradle you gently within his arms day and night, but he kept you from turning to ice with his body heat. You had no idea how he stayed so warm in the cold basement, never seeming to be affected by the environment you both were stuck in. Morpheus had also long since adopted a grasp on your body to give you the best chance of modesty from the guards that constantly watched you both. 

In the ten years, you had been trapped with Morpheus, your ankle had healed, leaving you with an unsightly scar wrapping around the circumference of your skin, and your relationship with the Endless had been kindled to one strong enough that he had asked you to call him Morpheus. You did, and it was perhaps one of the few things that brought a smile to his lips during your dreams. In fact, you were the only thing that 

gave the Endless any type of positive feeling. Your burning refusal to bow to Roderick Burgess was inspiring and commendable, but the longer you remained trapped, the less your eyes glowed with fire. Morpheus could see the flames of fight in you slowly dying. The confines of the glass cage were taking their toll. 

You looked around in confusion, wondering what had disturbed you from your sleep, but then you realized that Morpheus was staring at something. At the metal gates across the moat, perched on forged iron, was a black bird with a swatch of white. No, this was no blackbird, this was a raven. Morpheus’s raven, Jessamy. You scrambled out of Morpheus’s arms and stood up, your hands pressing against the glass as Jessamy swooped through the grates in the gate. Then Jessamy fluttered up to the top of the glass cage and started viciously banging against it with her beak. Morpheus rose to his feet behind you, the heat from his skin pressing into your back. Hope bloomed in your chest for the first time since your capture and you pressed your palm over the place the raven repeatedly pecked at. 

“Pajarito, me alegra verte,” (Little bird, I'm glad to see you.) You whispered against the glass, little black eyes staring into yours as Jessamy hit the glass harder. Over and over and over again. You felt Morpheus place a hand on your hip, you could even feel his hope radiating from his body. But just as suddenly as your hope had come, it was taken away from your most violently. A gunshot rang out and Jessamy exploded, painting the glass in front of you with crimson and onyx. You jerked back with a choked gasp, violently colliding into Morpheus, who caught and supported your shaking body. For a few moments you felt like you couldn’t breathe, then your eyes burned viciously and the first of many tears to come started to fall. Jessamy, little beautiful Jessamy, now lay dead on the binding circle. You thought you might throw up and twist around, flinging yourself into Morpheus’s chest and holding onto him for dear life as you tried to stifle the sobs emerging from your mouth. 

Morpheus’s grip on your body tightened as he felt your hot tears drip onto his skin, he could feel his own as he stared down at all that remained of his beloved raven, Jessamy. He wished he could feel something at this moment, even if it was upset or distress like you, anything but this taxing and void feeling of nothingness. Shock. He was definitely feeling shocked to the point of nearly not understanding what had just happened. 

“You idiot! You could have shattered the glass!” The voice of Roderick Burgess was explosive in the deathly quiet of the room. You flinched at his voice, digging your fingers into Morpheus’s back and holding him that much tighter. The pain you felt had to be a thousand times worse for Morpheus. Morpheus sank back down to the base of the cage, carefully collecting your shaking body. Your trembles, shakes, and hiccups continued as Morpheus pressed his face into your hair. Your tears were endless against his skin, and it was only when you had cried yourself to sleep that your body finally relaxed. Morpheus was quick to join you in your dreams, needing your comfort just as much as you needed his. It became obvious that you were nowhere near your usual spots. 

The fields were empty, the church as well, the village square with its foundation was devoid of life… Morpheus could only surmise that you had holed yourself up in your cottage. Pushing the door to your cottage open, Morpheus stepped inside to see your chair lying on its side and the glass of flowers spilled on the floor, you were nowhere in the main living area. You could only be in one place: your bedroom. Morpheus pushed the door open quietly and found you curled up in a ball on your bed, your fingers digging into your scalp in a white-knuckled grip. You were sobbing in despair and utter devastation. He could feel the rippling waves of guilt that burned in your veins and the pain you currently felt in your heart was worse than anything you had felt before. He called your name, and you shriveled in a tighter circle. 

“Fortuna,” Morpheus called again, his hands begging to wrap around your body for an ounce of the comfort you carried. 

“Traigo la muerte,” (I bring death.) You whispered out, fully believing your words. Morpheus walked forwards and wrapped his arms around your curled body, his hands searching for yours. He found them and wove his fingers with yours. 

“You do not bring death, Y/N,” He said softly, his face burying into the back of your neck. It was rare that he called you by your birth name. Actually, you couldn’t even remember the last time someone had called you by it. You were Fortuna now, the Goddess Incarnate, your mortal life, and name long since dead. Your hands trembled violently around his and you shook your head furiously. 

“How do you think I became friends with Mother Death!?” You exclaimed, more tears leaking from your eyes and dribbling down your already tear-streaked face. “I am a harbinger of death, Morpheus.” Morpheus breathed in the scent of your perfumed skin, determined not to let you fall into despair.

“A harbinger of death does not possess a smile as radiant as yours, nor is it as compassionate as you are. You are exactly as you appear to be,” Morpheus murmured, holding you tighter and soaking in the comfort of your soft body. 

“And what is that?” 

“A Goddess,” He gently whispered to you. That night you spent wrapped around each other, endless tears falling from your eyes.

Date Published: 11/27/22

Last Edit: 11/27/22

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[ominous-feychild]

✦ Crow's Character Asks and Quotes ✦

commissioned art by Neige; here's her instagram!

Would you do something illegal if you were getting paid a large sum of money? (You can choose the illegal thing)

Crow: I mean, aren't I already being paid to do illegal things for lots of money? Breaking and entering, very consensual information-gathering, theft of evidence, falsification of identity, planting of evidence when and where necessary... wait, who's asking again? Change of answer: I would never. 😘

What is your favorite non-human creature in the world and why? (Gods count)

Crow: That's easy! My familiar, Aria! I don't care if she's connected to me, she's not human--and don't you dare make a joke about me not being human either! I am cursed, not something else! And why do I love her? I mean--is she my favorite non-human creature? Well... there's a lot of reasons. For one, she's my familiar. Like, she chose me. Even if she's a crow, too, because she's taken on a bit of my curse... I mean, that's my fault isn't it? Ha... no, I think she's fine. She's still able to sing, and that seems to be enough for her. I guess I like that about her, too. Eh, this is all too gushy. Next question!

If you were forced to kill one person you have met, who would it be? (Not yourself)

Crow: *looks at the people they've gotten thrown into prison* Yeeeeaaaaah, there's a lot of options there. You really want me to pick one? Look, I already only spared them because it was against the law and my father would've been upset about it. If I'm going to go against their wishes... I'm going to pick a lot more than just one. 😉

"What's your relationship with your family like?"

Crow: Oh, my father's great, yeah. ... What, you were expecting more of an answer?

"Do you have any hobbies? if so, what ones?"

Crow: Psh, nothing as boring as reading. (*Precariously leaning back against a bulging doorway. There's a creak and then--CRASH!!!*) SHIT--

(*Furiously opens the door. An endless pile of books comes falling out. Except... they're all related to their cases? Huh. Is their hobby... working?*) Yep. That's my hobby. Working. Tell my dad that, would ya? 😘 (Oh I think we see something deeper in the closet--) NO!!! DON'T YOU DARE-- (*we zoom in to see countless artistic collages made out of cut-outs from pictures in their books and magazines.*)

...

(*Crow, face burning, melts into the shadows and hides in shame.* But??? That's a cool hobby??? WAIT, COME BACK, AZA--)

"Do you dream often? what about?"

Crow: Ha, no. Do most people remember their dreams? (They're lying. They remember. Their dreams center around failure. Failure, and a desperation to prove themself.)

"What is the one thing you would not wish on your greatest adversary?"

Crow: A pointless end. If you have to die, you should die for something. Something meaningful. Something you care about.

"What's your relationship with your family like?"

Crow: Sike!!! Bet you thought I wasn't going to answer this question. 😘 How cruel of you to think so lowly of me!!! 😭

I wasn't kidding, my father's great, I love him. He taught me everything I know about--detective work and all, heh! We don't always see each other because he's usually working on cases, but he's given me everything I need to succeed in life and I'm thankful to him for that. So hopefully I'll make him proud on this case with Frey! 😉😊

✦ Quotes ✦

"Move over! I wanna watch too."

Crow: *teleported through shadows to get to a better vantage point* Crow: "Excusez-moi!" *at the same time as slapping them aside with their wing* (note: they are not French.)

"A little help, please?"

Crow: "Ey! Over here! HELP!"

"Unhand me!"

Crow: *combat mode: engaged. Duck into their own shadows and teleport to get a moment to process the scene before reacting further.* Crow: *calmly, making eye contact* "you have less than five seconds to let go of me. Five. Four--"

"Okay, someone has to come up with a plan!"

Crow: *deadpan* "Don't make me break out Plan B. Trust me, you do NOT want Plan B."

Original posts: Asks 1, Asks 2, Quotes ALL ABOUT CROW HERE! (note: will be uploaded soon!)

Divider from @cafekitsune

[geometricalien]

Ooooohhh 3 akafuri WIPs??? Sign me up!! I'm curious what they are about, if you don't mind sharing ~

I'm glad to share! Most of these have chapters already posted (because self motivation can only get me so far lol) and I'll make sure to add a link for the ones that do

εὐήλιος - Act 2 of my ancient greece au which is more or less a retelling of the trojan war with the generation of miracles where akashi is "achilles" and furihata is "patroclus" if you know those names you know how this ends but I hope to make my take interesting and unique! Act 2 is the beginning and middle of the war where akafuri are an established couple taking on "troy" and them working through their problems as a real couple. I like this one alot bc it's the main idea I've been playing with for almost 3 years and as such it's very self indulgent.

Things That Hold Us Together: Steel Bolts and Tender Hearts - war android akashi is reawakened by technician furihata and decides to stay with him. That's what is on the can but it's been proving harder for me to develop character growth or a theme.

Sidenote: android/human aus tend to work because the character who is the android is the "bubbly personable" one while the character who is the human is "cold mean rude or similarly detached from normal social conventions" and an underlying question in the fic is what makes them so different if the android is more "humanlike" than the actual human? Alas this general theme is not applicable to my wip - this is just one example of my difficulties building this wip

Every Family Has Their Traditions - Newlyweds Akashi and Furihata are invited to play a game of Hide and Seek with Akashi's family on their wedding night but not everything is as it seems. This is based on my beloved Ready or Not (2019) horror movie (however I've added some distinctly akafuri twists to fit the ship, the akashi family, and the gender role/conventions of marriage) its a movie I've watched countless times and can't help plastering these two characters faces on the main leads (I even have fanart that I drew of akashi and furihata as screenshots from the film!!)

I started this half bc of my fascination with akafuri in the roles and half bc I reaaaaalllly wanted a horror fic involving them which leads me to-

Trust Me Darling Dear - This is in the beginning stages (and has been for months, rewriting, scrapping- it's a mess) but I'm hopeful that I'll convey what I want! I just need to see what I don't want first lol also we need more horror akafuri!!! As a treat! For me! Akafuri lends itself so well to the themes of comedy and horror- we got the comedy in butloads but it's time for horror- and I know that everyone who still ships them is. Hesitant to write Akashi in any light that could potentially demonize DID and there are authors who have managed to write these excellent surrealistic horror fics and I want to join them!

Read @carrot-felisidad 's Hannibal au series and @medium-dippers 's chainsawman oneshot! Edit: Tumblr keeps eating these links 😡

Unnamed wip - High school sweethearts that broke up meet once again after a decade apart on a flight back home from the usa. Alot of the time my ideas are spawned from one scene and it's hard to look past the one moment. In this I'm just hooked on the moment Furihata is settling in his seat and Akashi turns to greet him- they both call still, too stunned to say anything as their eyes rove over the love of their life and comparing them to their memories, seeing the physical manifestation of time in the fine lines around their eyes or mouth, how Furihata has this intense need to run away and also hold on tight to Akashi's arm. How they try to do small talk before it falls off and they steal glances at each other- ughhhhh they disgust me

And lastly,

Unnamed 5 +1 - the slow break up of akafuri from other people's perspectives. yeP

Those are all my current wips (if you don't count the ones that I'm not trying to actively think about- I got a star trek au, a cowboy/western au (that will never get developed agdhsjsh), and a waiter/regular au) thank you for the ask!!

[critical-chris]

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania

Who let the title of this movie get so damn long?

Here we go again. Another post-Endgame, superhero film capping off a trilogy of movies featuring a loved lead character. If only Thor took notes and ended at a trilogy too, maybe the Marvel franchise wouldn't seem so tired and exhausting at this point. I myself am nearing the end of my rope when it comes to watching new installments in another phase of Marvel. The last notches on the belt I've been looking forward to were Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 3 and, due to my own love for the lead character and actor, Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantamania.

I feel like I've always been a fan of Paul Rudd. I don't even remember the first movie I saw him in, but I had to have immediately loved him and kept that same energy over the years. It doesn't hurt that he never had a real drop-off either. Looking back through his acting career, he hit the ground running with Clueless three years after his first credit (I haven't seen it, but people like it and I trust he was great in the movie). Then he hits you with Wet Hot American Summer, what used to be a cult hidden classic until Netflix brainwashed everyone into thinking that it was a star-maker when it was released.

He's a key, hilarious figure in one of my favorite comedies all-time Anchorman, a long running guest star on Friends, simps his way through 40 Year Old Virgin, dips a toe in Knocked Up, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, Role Models, I Love You Man, etc. etc. The list goes on and on. My favorite Paul Rudd moment is in one of his more mediocre films funnily enough, Wanderlust. The scene where Rudd hypes himself up to a mirror before expecting to hook up with Malin Akerman's character made me laugh harder than I ever had before. Whether it's a cameo, a guest starring role, or being a leading man, Paul Rudd has given us countless performances and years that are laugh out loud funny and memorable.

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania is the third installment in the Ant Man story and the i-can't-keep-count-how-many movies in the Marvel saga. Scott Lang has been through a lot coming into this movie. He's been to prison, defeated his mentor's protégé and came to terms with Bobby Cannavale marrying his ex-wife, a phasing supervillain and a trip to and from the Quantum Realm (I had to look up the synopsis for Ant-Man and the Wasp because I remembered very little from it despite enjoying it), the blip from Endgame which aged his daughter to a teenager, and the threat of Thanos. The thousand plotlines of the Marvel universe are becoming tired at this point, and you really don't have to remember every little detail, but these events converge and lead us to this new, and hopefully last, adventure for Paul Rudd in the superhero multiverse.

At the start of Ant-Man and the Wast: Quantumania, Scott is living a B-list celebrity life, having meals comp'd by businesses unsure which Avenger he is, slipping in as many Baskin Robbins' plugs as he can, and relishing in his newly released book The Little Things or Don't Count Out the Little Man or whatever little pun they made. His daughter Cassie is an activist rebel for good who also has somehow caught herself up on quantum physics with the help of Hank and Janet Pym (Michael Douglas and Michelle Pfeiffer). A convenient point as Cassie has been building a device that can map out and contact the Quantum Realm. Janet Pym loses her shit when she hears of this device and, when attempting to deactivate it, ends up getting the whole clan sucked back into the Quantum Realm. Oh what sights they will see and unusual characters they will meet.

The opening moments are okay enough, there are a couple laughs delivered by Paul Rudd's narration and odd family dynamic, but there is one problem that begins to present itself and sustains throughout the whole movie: the film has no soul. I don't know what it is, these characters I personally really liked and was interested in from the first two movies and Avenger appearances fall flat and seem generic and frankly uninteresting in moments. I should care what happens to these people, but I just didn't. I guess the positive I can glean from the opening is they get to the Quantum Realm rather quickly.

Scott and Cassie (The Langs) get split up from Hope, Hank, and Janet (The Pyms) and each try to find their way back to each other for a decent chunk of the movie's midsection. The Langs battle a couple amoeba and sun monsters before being captured by a group of humanoids and creatures. The Pyms follow Janet on a quest to find someone who can lead them back to reunite with The Langs.

The biggest issue I had when our group of heroes are dropped in the Quantum Realm that lasted throughout the runtime of the movie is the fact that every background, setting, action piece, etc. is computer generated. Obviously I understand you cannot reasonably create most of these effects practically, but when every single rock and speck of dust is CGI the movie loses its texture and I find it hard to emotionally connect as much to people interacting in front of a green screen in a studio. That has always been an issue with Marvel films, but feels like ever since they dove into the multiverse pool it has grown more and more evident.

Scott is dragged into an encampment at night (is there technically a day and night in a Quantum Realm?) where all these crazy creatures circle around him giving the impression he is about to be tortured or killed. Cassie runs into the scene out of nowhere, a red liquid dripping around her mouth, and urges Scott to "drink the ooze". Alright, am I the only one that felt this scene was eerily similar to Star Wars: Episode 6 at the Ewok village? Yes? Okay then, I'll move past it. Scott drinks this red ooze the creatures give him and suddenly he's able to understand the many languages they all speak. They tell him they are rebels against this unnamed 'Conqueror' and he is definitely going to be searching for Scott and Cassie being newcomers to the realm.

The rebels are pretty generic characters. You have the female warrior with a cool staff that disintegrates foes (a lot of disintegration in this movie) but otherwise has no personality, a brute with a sun head with no other discernable personality, and an ooze creature obsessed with how many holes everyone has (I'm not joking) who I guess has a goofy personality, and then just cannon fodder all around.

Meanwhile, the Pyms barter for a manta ray looking thing that allows them to travel to what looks like a hotel rooftop bar to meet a mysterious figure from Janet's past when she was stuck in the Quantum Realm. Turns out, it's Bill Murray. I read a report that Bill Murray was really interested in joining the Marvel franchise, but you could never tell from his performance in this movie. I mean, this guy is SLEEPWALKING through his role. It felt to me that he was on set for a day, maybe two at most, and maybe had a Benadryl or two because he is snoozed out. Anyway, he reveals Janet used to be in a romantic relationship with him but instead of helping the Pyms he has sold them out to the 'Conqueror'.

The Pyms escape, and while on the way to find The Langs, Janet finally comes clean on her past in the Quantum Realm. She found a man named Kang (The Conqueror) who she thought crashed in the Quantum Realm and needed to repair his ship's core which would allow them to escape back to the real world. Janet helped him find the formula to recharge the core, but when they install it and she touches the fully powered ship, she glimpses into Kang's mind and sees that he was actually banished to the realm after going on a conquering spree where he murdered billions of people across different multiverses and timelines. She used the Ant-Man tech to explode the ship's core to a magnificent size which stranded Kang.

The rebel camp housing Scott and Cassie is found out and attacked by the Conqueror's minions and the duo are eventually captured by a flying, mechanical death machine with a golden face and miniature arms and legs. Yes, that's right, miniature arms and legs. So let's talk about MODOK...

I can't lie, the first time MODOK (Mental Organism Designed Only for Killing) pops his helmet off and reveals the stretched out face of Corey Stoll, I laughed. It is inarguably a funny sight and gag for a movie that is inherently supposed to be a comedy. Paul Rudd is at his comedic best in the moments when he talks with MODOK since he can play the 'holding back a laugh or joke' face extremely well. However, I think they go back to the gag waaaaaay too many times and it would have been better served for MODOK to have his helmet down more often than not to keep him menacing and seemingly dangerous. Instead, you never feel anyone is in real danger when he's around because of how ridiculous he looks.

Scott and Cassie are locked up when they first meet Kang the Conqueror, who details to them his master devious plan to shrink his ship's core to normal size with Scott's help, escape the Quantum Realm, and continue his conquering ways. Scott of course refuses, but upon threat of his daughter's death, he relents rather quickly and agrees to help. I do want to make a quick note that I love Jonathan Majors and think he plays a great character in Kang the Conqueror, perfectly captured in the Loki series, and if I wasn't so tired of this franchise I would be looking forward to seeing him more. Alas, I will stick to watching the upcoming second season of Loki and likely bail out from the rest.

Scott's mission is to shrink himself down to find the core of the massive ship's power core (yes, a core of a core) which creates what they call a "Probability Storm". How do I remember the term? Because they repeat it like six times in a five minute sequence. Scott beings to multiply into different versions of himself that would have existed had he made different choices in life, similar to the paradox of Schrödinger’s box and cat. However, we don't get wildly different versions of Scott, rather a million copies of the same version asking what is going on. Oh, and one in a Baskin Robbins uniform, a company that must be bankrolling these films for how much they reference it in a two hour runtime. It stopped being funny the last movie, enough already.

After enduring this sequence, Scott is able to shrink down the ship's core, but is betrayed by Kang (shocker) who steals the core without freeing Cassie and shuffles away to his grand kingdom to prepare to leave the Quantum Realm. The Langs and Pyms regroup, Hank reveals that a few of his ants were also sucked into the Quantum Realm, and prepare themselves to storm Kang's empire city. Something something something, they rouse the rebels in the realm, who cares who cares who cares, and they get to the city with Scott growing himself to a giant size and he breaks down the walls to Kang's kingdom.

Scott Lang and the gang (why hadn't I used that term before now?) face off against Kang and his millions of minions until they finally prevail when Hank Pym's ant army come to the rescue in a pretty cool ending battle. You see a glimpse of Kang's power as he disintegrates fleeing rebels, although conveniently doesn't kill the one with the cool staff as I'm sure they'll get some half-assed Disney+ show out of her, before he is overpowered by the army of ants and eventually destroyed along with his ship's power core.

And here we find two major issues I have with the ending of this movie:

Kang is defeated by ants

Kang the Conqueror is supposed to be the next baddie that will stretch the next several Marvel films in the same vein as Thanos. They spend the whole movie alluding to and then explaining that Kang has innumerable variants (clones, basically) across timelines but this version was so ruthless and awful that the others banished him down to the Quantum Realm. In my mind, he should be the one leading this multi-movie onslaught of trouble for the next generation of Avengers. And yet, he is defeated by Ant-Man, The Wasp, a teenage girl, and two older scientists with telepathic ants. How am I supposed to believe that this guy, or his clones, pose any threat to a collection of superheroes when he can't beat a couple of the lesser ones?

2. Scott's "Sacrifice" is immediately worthless

I thought the ending of this movie may actually work well and be impactful when Scott and Hope seemingly stay behind in the Quantum Realm to keep Kang from escaping despite the rest of their family jumping through a portal to the real world. However, after destroying Kang, it takes all of 20 seconds for the portal to be re-opened and Scott and Hope to escape. I don't know if they're planning on making more Ant-Man movies (I hope they don't) or keeping Paul Rudd around to pop up in future stuff as a cameo (I won't see it if he happens), but it would have been a perfect way to wrap up the character by having him live in this world with Hope. Instead, they ruin it and there is no emotional moment at the end of this after all.

Overall, I'm pretty much done with Marvel and this movie did nothing to reinvigorate my desire to stick with this universe through another dozen films, although I think the negative reviews around it are a little much and more representative of Marvel exhaustion rather than it being a terrible movie. The film is okay, but I wouldn't shit on it. The best word to describe it, and a word I've come to love in the last couple years, is Meh.

Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania - 6.0/10

[meatmechapilot]

Rivaereri Spring 2024 - Day 6: Crime AU

Bonnie and Clyde

“Hands up in the air!” the- masked man shouted as he unloaded a clip into the ceiling of the bank lobby.

Screams rang out as bank patrons scrambled to look for cover all over the place, most ended up huddled against the wall. The bank teller was frozen in fear as the masked man got closer to the counter. She saw that there is an accomplice that is now going around collecting valuables from the bank patrons. They are both armed and the bank teller saw wallets, watches, jewelry and other valuables going into a bag.

“Hand them over,” the first man, who is now right up at the counter and aiming the gun straight at the poor, terrified employee. She saw now that the man with the gun isn’t really that tall, but he has an imposing aura that makes him terrifying all the same. She scrambled to comply with the demands by emptying the bank vault and laying stacks of money on the counter. The gunman’s accomplice is now also at the counter and is scooping the money into his bag with the other valuables.

The two criminals worked perfectly in sync and cleaned out the bank in no time. For a parting gift, the gunman reached into his pocket and pulled out a gas canister and unleashed its contents into the bank. Then they turned heel and left the bank full of people choking and gagging from the noxious gas.

Finally, when they were outside, they hopped into their getaway car and floored it, getting out of the crime scene in record time.

===

On the outskirts of the city, inside the criminals' lair, the TV is on with breaking news about the latest high profile bank robbery.

“Hey brat! Turn that infernal TV down!” The older of the two criminals groused, while sorting out the loot from their previous activity.

“Aw, Levi, you don’t want to see our body count?” The younger criminal answered, his voice a little too happy.

“How many times do I have to tell you, Eren?” Levi said, “the gas is way too easy and takes the fun out of killing. It’s much more satisfying to kill people with your bare hands, seeing the life leaving their eyes is a special kind of experience that no poison gas will come close to.”

Eren heard this spiel from Levi countless times, but since he values efficiency, he never really paid much attention. Levi was a serial killer before becoming a bank robber, so Eren supposed that he knew what he was talking about. “I wonder how much our bounty is now.” Eren flipped through the channel until he found the relevant one that gave him the information. “Thirty million dollars for the both of us! It’s increased by five million since the last time!” Eren exclaimed excitedly. He had a goal of bringing their bounty up to one hundred million. “Oh man, how come you are twenty million and I’m only ten million?” He pouted when he saw the individual bounties.

“Because I was a notorious serial killer with a ten million bounty before I even met you.” Levi said impatiently. “And don’t forget, Kenny Ackerman was at fifty million when he died, us two combined aren't even close to him yet.”

Kenny Ackerman was a legend among the criminal underworld and Eren never failed to be star struck when his name came up. In fact, Levi met Eren when the latter was bragging about surpassing Kenny as the most notorious criminal ever, and intervened before he got jumped by a bunch of hardened criminals. Levi then offered to take Eren under his wing, teaching him all there is to know about committing crimes.

Of course, Levi had ulterior motives in saving Eren. The brat was gorgeous with long legs and tanned skin and the most vivid greens eyes Levi had ever seen. He was an exact match for Levi’s type. The best thing about Eren that Levi discovered was he was extremely groomable, and it took less than a year for Levi to train him to his exacting standards for pretty much everything from housework to cooking to being the perfect whore in bed.

Speaking of bed, Eren came over with a perfectly brewed pot of tea and some tea cakes he made himself, a perfect pre bedtime snack. Levi was nowhere near ready to sleep, he’s always a bit heated after one of their heists and Eren understands him perfectly. Neither of them will get much sleep tonight.

The criminal duo ate their snacks in record time and made a beeline for bed, and not a wink of sleep was to be had until dawn.

[someonexsomeone]

In A Rowdy Room

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" McTavish x Reader

Summary: Ghost catches you and Soap in a secret moment

Warnings: fluff, Ghost does a lot of watching my bad if it's creepy lmao

Authors Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS to those who celebrate it and HAPPY SUNDAY to those who don't! I tried to do something a little fun and have him referred to as Soap when he was acting and Johnny when he was vulnerable just like I've seen others do with Ghost/Simon. I don't know if that was a good decision or not because I worry it may have made the flow a little confusing but eh. I already wrote it lmao

They were not being sneaky at all. Despite the years of training, the grueling hours, the countless missions, gone both right and wrong, one would think that at least some level of stealth would make its way into that thick skull of his. Ghost scoffed to himself, not so subtly watching the two as they giggled and talked quietly to themselves. It had been Soap’s idea to come to this bar, to mingle and take their minds off the past couple of missions, and yet here he was, tucked away in the corner with you. Ghost should have suspected he’d be ditched the moment they arrived at the bar, as it happens nearly every time he concedes to Soap’s endless nagging that he’s a shut-in with no life (no shit, Johnny, that was the point), but it was usually a hoard of people, both higher-ups and recruits, trying to get a speck of Soap’s attention and fun-loving energy. Soap really did command the mood of the room, even if he himself wasn’t aware of it.

But not this time. Ghost had arrived late, spending an extra hour or two to complete the rest of his paperwork before remembering he promised to pop in for a drink tonight. He sighed to himself, wondering if anyone would even notice if he didn’t show up, despite Johnny’s promised that his presence was needed, that the new recruits should get a look at him in multiple scenarios to see that Ghost was just as cool and unaproachable in any setting. He scowled at those words at the time, knowing his teammate was full of crap and was using useless flattery to get him to concede, but also knowing that he would do anything Johnny asked. Knew that Johnny was never going to intentionally put him in an uncomfortable situation.

One drink. Harmless in of itself, and he did always manage to have some sick enjoyment in watching the newbies squirm whenever his eyes passed over them.

Johnny spotted him across the bar as soon as he arrived. Hard not to, what with Ghost being so large. Johnny managed to pry himself away from the group that was chatting him up enthusiastically, smoothly detangling himself and slipping between the crowd on the floor. Johnny smacked a good-natured hand on his shoulder, before shouting Ghost's drink of preference to the smiley bartender. Once the drink was in his hand, straw included, Johnny steered him towards the table containing some other 141 members. Price and Laswell smiled pleasantly at him upon his arrival, but made no move to force him on their conversation. Across the room, Ghost spotted Gaz laughing with a group at the bar. Soap barely lasted a minute before a group of rowdy recruits tugged on his arm, pulling him away for some reason or another. A round of darts, Ghost thinks, but he could hardly make out what they were saying over the cacophony of voices.

An hour, Ghost reasoned to himself. No one would expect him to last longer than that, and he could safely depart. Plus, he thought, bringing the straw back to his mouth, this was some good whiskey. Who was he to waste a drink he didn’t even have to pay for?

Now, over an hour later, Ghost was glued to his chair, eyes fixated on the scene in front of him. From the table up, you looked like simple colleagues chatting away, but, from where Ghost was sitting, he had a clear view of the thing the high-top table was failing to conceal. One of your legs was gently folded over the other, splayed across the distance to rest over your companions. Johnny’s hand was absentmindedly caressing your leg, from ankle to upper thigh, fingers drawing endless looping patterns with intermittent pauses for affectionate squeezes. Ghost's drink was still halfway to his lips, having not moved from the spot since he laid his eyes on you two.

Shock maybe wasn’t the right word, Ghost reasoned to himself, but surprise no doubt. Soap was an open book on the field, his heart worn on his sleeve and his mouth speaking faster than his mind can think. A breath of fresh air in a usually bleak environment, one Ghost had come to appreciate, even though sometimes Gaz and Soap deserved a good smack on the head to stop their constant back and forths. Those moments were the ones when Ghost felt a flare of kinship with his Captain, their knowing eyes locking for a moment. A passing gaze of annoyance and fondness that didn’t need words. That same emotion was no doubt, at least in Ghost’s mind, why the two of them were so popular. Their easy ability to chat up a storm made him envious at times. And now, as Ghost watched the two of you nearly sink into each other, watched as you gently ran your fingers up Johnny’s chest, brushing over his dog tags to rest your hand on his no doubt thumping heart, your sweet face leaning in to whisper something in his ear that made an easy smile spread across his face, Ghost couldn’t help the same aching fondness for you as it flared inside him.

How many times had Ghost arrived at a party and watched as Soap practically ran himself ragged to mingle in every group, take a shot of every alcohol that was passed to him, play every game that was suggested? Welcomed newcomers and rookies that had yet to find a place amongst the others? Purposely seeked Ghost out to check on him and share his excitement to see him? All to wake up bright and early the next morning to work his butt off on missions that sometimes asked for far too much? It was only now, watching as you and Soap had a quiet moment in a rowdy room, that Ghost really appreciated all that Johnny did for them. Because in that moment, Ghost wasn’t seeing Soap, easy extrovert and deadly killer. He was seeing Johnny, a selfless man that hid behind his crooked smile. A selfless man who deserved to have someone dote on him, to care for him as he cared for others. And, by the goofy grin that spread on Johnny’s face, he had found the perfect person to do that in you.

You were not an unfamiliar face, Ghost thought as he spared you another glance. He had seen you around here and there, taking an extra second to appreciate your beauty before moving on with his day. Despite knowing you sometimes carried important files and that occasionally he saw you entering or exiting the infirmary, Ghost had no information on who you were. To be fair, there were countless people that worked on this base, let alone the hundreds that used it as a temporary hub between or on missions. After a moment of thought, he did recall seeing you a fair few times with Soap, talking quietly to each other in hallways or in break rooms, but he didn’t think much of them. Watched you hand him coffee with a pretty smile or gently fix his crooked uniform. After all, Soap was easy to talk to and highly sought after. What would make your interactions any different? Well, he thought to himself, any different before tonight. Now, as he watched Johnny move his hand to your upper thigh, squeezing it lightly and pulling you towards him in a way that had you teasingly scold him, how could he not? You two were always standing closer to each other than Soap’s usual crowd, in a reciprocal way rather than the one-sided smother Soap usually got, and on nights like these Ghost recalls seeing you and Johnny chatting more than a couple times. Ghost wanted to smack himself. How had he not seen it before, especially with both of your obvious lack of subtlety!?

Pulled out of his thoughts, Ghost spotted, out of the corner of his eye, a young recruit hustle towards your table, eyes set firmly on Johnny. With practiced ease, the two of you split apart, fainting the ‘two innocent friends that had to get closer to hear one another over the loud atmosphere’ and not the ‘two lovers taking a moment for one another’ that you obviously were. Despite not seeing it before, and only coming to the realization himself a mere moment ago, Ghost couldn’t help himself think how could the rookie fool not realize he was interrupting a private moment. Ghost watched as you both smiled politely at the young recruit in front of you, listening intently as the rookie animatedly talked and waved toward the group by the dart boards. Watched you nod politely, and then nearly jumped as the recruit grabbed Soap’s arm, unknowingly prying his hand from your leg to tug him to, no doubt, join them in another round. Watched as your face remained completely composed, but your legs drooped almost sadly back onto the floor and away from Johnny’s warmth. Separating you two once again into your own personal bubbles.

Without paying attention to his previous tablemates' questioning sounds, Ghost slammed his glass on the table, nearly throwing himself off his seat to stride toward them. It was easy to make it to them, the sea of people parted without much resistance as they saw the hulking Lieutenant coming towards them. The recruit nearly jumped out of their skin as Ghost appear behind them, slapping a hand on their shoulder.

“Why don’t I join your game, kid?” Ghost murmured, low and growly, in the same tone he usually kept reserved for the field and not a night out on the town. The goosebumps that appeared on the rookie's neck were hard to miss.

“W-well, Lieutenant, Sir, I was-, We were-,” the rookie stuttered, not even being able to look Ghost in the eye.

“Gotta problem with me joining?” The rookie turned pale, Ghost’s hand adding just a little more pressure where it lay.

“N-no, s-sir. Not-not at all, Lieutenant.”

“Excellent. Lead the way, rookie.” Despite his words, Ghost used his grip to forcefully steer the rookie away from the table, back towards the dart boards on the other side of the room. He spared a glance over his shoulder, locking eyes with Johnny, whose eyebrows were pinched together in confusion, questioning his usually introverted friend. All Ghost had to do was flick his eyes in your direction once to get Johnny’s face to break out in a goofy grin.

Damn, Ghost thought, sighing to himself, ignoring the way the rookie jumped, Johnny's never going to let me live this down.

masterlist  l  mw masterlist

[leejungchans]

trial and error : k.mg

word count | 2.9k

pairing | kim mingyu (svt) x female reader

warning(s) / includes | food mentions (lmk if i missed anything!!)

genre | fluff, humour (a lil), barista au

summary: three times mingyu tries to ask you out and fails and the one time he actually succeeds… though not without some help.

a/n: can’t have a valentine’s day/season without a present to my very seggsy wifey @seungcy 💗 heyyy babe happy very belated valentine’s day 😻 i hope you like this very little something i wrote about the man you always cheat on me with /j luv u hottie muah muah :hehecat:

PHASE 0

Mingyu thinks you might just be the cutest person he’s ever seen when you walk in. It’s like a scene pulled straight from a K-drama: dreamy music playing in his head as the bell chimes above your head with your arrival, your eyes twinkling with anticipation while you look around the café before flashing a smile at him and—

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t exactly how it played out. He caught a glimpse of you before you promptly disappeared behind the growing queue of customers waiting to have their order taken. He’s instantly reminded of all the times Wonwoo teased him about his tendency to fall in love with strangers easily, but that’s not going to stop him from developing a crush on you. Maybe you really will be the one this time! Who knows?

So when you walk up to the counter, his palms are already starting to get sweaty. God, you look so cute with your pink beret.

“Good morning!” you greet cheerfully, “can I get an iced latte to go, please?”

“Sure,” Mingyu says plainly because he doesn’t trust himself not to blurt out something painfully uncool to you, “cash or card?”

You’re either unfazed or unaware of his monotonous attitude, still smiling brightly at him as you answer the latter and hold your card to the reader. You move over to the waiting zone with your receipt, oblivious to the distress you’ve caused Mingyu from your fingers touching when he handed you the slip of paper. His heart hammers as he watches your back profile, eyes lingering on the cute pins on your backpack—how much more endearing can you get? he wonders to himself, a smile tugging at his lips as the Pikachu hanging from your bag bounces with every step.

The customer after you clears their throat, and with a fiery hue spread across his cheeks, Mingyu tears his attention away from you with a sheepish grin. That usually does the job; even the most peevish patrons find it hard to stay annoyed with him even when he's looking at them like that.

“Sorry about that, what would you like to order?”

PHASE 1

“You sure this isn’t just another one of your three-day crushes?”

“Yes!” Mingyu whines, looking up from the table he’s been wiping down with a damp rag. “It’s been more than a week and the last time she came in we actually had a conversation! And at least this time I know her name!”

“That’s a start,” Wonwoo agrees, “what did you guys talk about?”

Mingyu’s eyes practically shine when he whirls around to face his best friend. “She told me she moved out of her university dorms to live with a roommate, and that she started coming here because it’s on the way to the bus stop.”

“The one a few blocks down?”

“I think so?” Mingyu hums as he secures his apron around his waist, ready to start another busy shift. Despite the early hour, on a Monday no less, he finds himself looking forward to the morning rush, because even seeing you for just a few minutes brings the brightest of smiles to his face.

Wonwoo observes quietly as his friend giddily takes his place behind the counter. Sure, Mingyu’s had countless crushes on customers in the past, but he’s never seen him as smitten for one as you. He’s refilling the straw holder when Mingyu speaks again.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Wonwoo pushes his glasses further up his nose bridge. “Do what?”

“Ask Y/N out,” Mingyu says like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “For coffee or something, so we can get to know each other.”

“You’re gonna ask her out for coffee… when you’re already working at the café she goes to?”

Huh, he has a point. “Then… I’ll let her pick! Yeah, that’s it!” He then falls silent for several beats before his voice comes out slightly shaky. “You don’t think someone would suggest rock-climbing or bungee-jumping for the first date… right?”

Wonwoo snorts. “Probably not. But I’d focus on asking her out for now if I were you.”

“Pft, it’ll be easy.”

Spoiler alert—it’s not. Because the moment you walk up to the counter with your usual cheery smile, the short spiel Mingyu had come up with all but disappeared from his mind, and he’s once again reduced to a tongue-tied mess before you.

“Are you okay?” you ask, peering at him curiously after noticing his shifting, nervous gaze as he punches in your order.

“Y-Yeah! Everything’s fine!” Mingyu squeaks, gesturing for you to tap your card. “Don’t worry about me! Everything’s just fine!”

From the corner of his eye, he sees Wonwoo glance over at him, his expression wholly unimpressed as though to say “as if anyone’s gonna be convinced”.

“O…kay, well… thanks, Mingyu!” You don’t seem to be offended, perhaps just a little confused, by his odd behaviour as you take your receipt and begin moving aside for the next person in line, but it still has guilt and panic sinking deep into his gut like a ton of bricks.

“W-Wait!”

Your widened eyes blink owlishly at his sudden outburst. “Hm?”

Mingyu blushes, the rosy pink tint on his cheeks now rapidly spreading to his ears. “I—I was j-just wondering if… uh…if…”

“If…?”

“If you also wanted a blueberry muffin, they’re fresh out of the oven,” Mingyu finishes lacklusterly, already mentally slapping himself.

“Oh! Sure!”

And as he watches you tap your card against the reader once again for your added purchase, the disappointed sagging of his shoulders having gone unnoticed, he wonders what had deluded him into thinking this would be anything near easy.

PHASE 2

“You’re going to what?”

Pointedly ignoring the disbelieving look Wonwoo sends him, Mingyu ushers him aside as he takes your cup and the milk frothing pitcher from him.

“I’m doing the latte art,” he finally responds before adding as an afterthought, “only for Y/N’s though, I don’t think I’m capable of doing more.”

“Yeah, because there’s a reason why Seungcheol put me in charge of the hot lattes for our shifts.”

He’d really rather not be reminded of the questionable foam design he made that led to such a decision from their supervisor. “No, it’s because I want to channel all my energy into just her cup.”

“Right…” Wonwoo says skeptically, but relents and steps aside anyway because he’s a good friend and he genuinely wants to see Mingyu’s love life thrive. But he also doesn’t want to witness the absolute fiasco that may very well likely result from Mingyu being let anywhere near the milk frother. Having hot milk dripping from every surface of their workspace isn’t the most ideal reoccurrence, and this time Wonwoo would like to be as far away from the splash zone as possible.

Mingyu’s tongue pokes out from between his lips, deep in concentration as he begins pouring the milk into your cup. So far so good, he mentally pats himself on the back. Maybe this will prove to Seungcheol that he deserves a second chance with the latte art.

A loud clatter resounds through the café, startling him. His hand jolts, hot milk missing the rim of the cup and splattering inches away from his feet. Mingyu cranes his neck in the direction of the sound just in time to see a customer nearby picking up their fork from the ground with a sheepish smile, cheeks tinged red as their friend muffles their giggles behind a gloved hand.

Huffing, Mingyu turns back to your latte to find the design ruined, what used to be a heart now split down the middle. Definitely not a very nice omen to give someone just a week before Valentine’s Day. What if you thought he was trying to curse you?

“You want me to do it for you?” Wonwoo asks sympathetically, gesturing for them to swap duties. With a heavy sigh, Mingyu agrees, taking his initial place back behind the cash register and plastering a smile on his face as the same customer comes up asking for another fork.

A pout subconsciously makes its way onto his face at the sight of your smile when Wonwoo brings you your latte. He can’t hear what you’re saying, but he’s guessing you’re marvelling over the leaf design his friend created.

Maybe next time.

PHASE 3

“Ta-da! It’s a coffee stencil!”

“Yes…” Wonwoo enunciates slowly, not knowing where this is going, “we have those in the back for special events—speaking of which, we need to grab the heart ones for the Valentine’s Day event starting tomorrow. Did you specifically buy that for this?”

“No!” Mingyu says, bringing the stencil closer to Wonwoo’s face, practically shoving it in the space between his eyes. “See? It says “YOU’RE CUTE”, I’m gonna use it when Y/N orders her latte and this time I’m bringing it over to her table and ask if she wants to hang out!”

His words are almost slurred from how excited he is, almost vibrating with excitement because his plan is so fool-proof; he knows he won’t mess up with the stencil and he knows you come in every other day to enjoy a piping hot cup of latte and a toasted croissant before heading to your late-morning lectures. There’s no way anyone could ruin it for him this time.

He can’t help himself from staring at the door awaiting your arrival during whatever short break he gets from taking orders and heating up baked goods, oblivious to the way Wonwoo occasionally sneaks glances at him with an amused smirk tugging at his lips. If the phrase ‘lovesick puppy’ were a person, it’d undoubtedly be Kim Mingyu.

Soon enough, your figure appears behind the frosted glass windows of the café, and while your entrance brings in a gust of frosty wind from the streets outside, he feels nothing but warmth in his chest as you walk up to the counter with a smile he’s come to associate with the summer sun. Sweet and dazzling.

“Hi, Y/N!” he says, a soft pink blush blooming across his cheeks, his fingers already hovering over your usual order on his screen, “hot vanilla latte with a toasted croissant?” His stencil—the one he bought just for you—sits on the counter right behind him, patiently waiting to be dusted in a layer of cocoa powder to create his little message.

You smile apologetically as you adjust the beanie on your head. It’s so you, he thinks, in a dreamy peach shade and topped with a fluffy white pom-pom.

“I’ll have to get both to-go today, I have to meet up with some groupmates for a project,” you explain, and Mingyu feels the blood drain from his face at your words. He can almost hear the shattering glass sound effect if this were a rom-com; the universe must be playing a prank on him.

It’s not even April Fool’s.

“O-Okay,” he falters, his arm suddenly weighing heavy as he inputs your order into the machine, “y-yeah, I can definitely do that.”

You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, Mingyu.”

He definitely doesn’t feel the best as he watches you leave with your breakfast, not even the encouraging pat on the shoulder from Wonwoo is helping much.

“Always next time, right?” his friend consoles.

He wonders how many more next times it will take.

PHASE 4

“I’m giving up,” Mingyu bemoans, slumping over the counter fifteen minutes to opening, “I’ll just accept that the universe doesn’t want me to find love.”

Wonwoo is hardly fazed by the sight of the giant man draped over the granite as he touches up the drawing of the limited edition drink—the red velvet latte—on a small chalkboard to put near the cash register.

“You’re being dramatic, Gyu,” he reasons, voice soft over the scribbling of chalk, “just try again today.”

“But it’s Valentine’s Day! Do you know how many happy couples I walked past on my way here? Plus, maybe she already has plans and isn’t coming in. I’ll never believe in love again.”

“Let’s just see how it goes, hm? Don’t give up hope just yet.”

By some miracle, Wonwoo’s right. You show up precisely thirty-seven minutes before their shift ends—yes, Mingyu counted.

“Any plans today?” he probes lightly, trying to sound casual when you order the red velvet latte and a scone.

“Nah, no boyfriend sadly,” you reveal with a quiet chuckle, “but it’s okay. It’s just any other day, right?”

Mingyu nods. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Wonwoo shoot him a knowing look. “Yeah, I guess... But if it makes you feel less alone, I don’t really have plans either,” he blurts.

“You? Really?” You look skeptical, lips curled disbelievingly.

He places a hand over his heart in mock hurt, thankful business is slow today so he has more time to talk to you without worrying about holding up the line. “What? You don’t trust me?”

“Well… I just didn’t expect someone like you to not have plans on Valentine’s Day.”

“And what kind of person am I?” He delights in how the question seems to fluster you, internally cooing at how adorable you are as you fumble over your words and take your receipt before claiming a table near the pick-up counter. Your reaction gives him a little hope that maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way as he does.

His confidence all but dissipates into thin air the second he finishes your latte. He used the same ‘YOU’RE CUTE’ stencil for the cocoa powder on top, and thankfully it turned out great if the appreciative whistle Wonwoo let out when he saw it was anything to go by. But the thought of bringing it over to you was daunting. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if you don’t realise he used a different stencil specifically for you?

“What if I trip and accidentally spill it all over her?”

“You won’t,” Wonwoo groans, exasperated by his friend’s ridiculousness, “now hurry up and get this to her before she starts wondering why it’s taking so long.”

Mingyu’s eyes are pleading as he asks, “Can you do it for me?”

“What? The whole week you’ve been sulking because you couldn’t ask her out and now you want… me to do it for you?”

“I wasn’t sulking,” he mumbles, looking over his shoulder to find you happily sketching something on your iPad. “And well, now I’m chickening out. Maybe I’ll do it when she’s about to leave, it feels less awkward that way. Please?”

Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow behind his glasses, the gears turning in his head before sighing. “Fine.”

A new customer walks up to the cash register, tearing Mingyu’s attention away from your cup as he rushes to take their order. Wonwoo watches carefully from the corner of his eye, ensuring Mingyu isn’t looking his way as he nabs a napkin and a pen from his pocket, having decided that his friend needs a little nudge in the right direction.

You look up from your screen with a smile when the other barista gingerly carries the steaming beverage and the pastry over to your table. He’s cute, but he’s not Mingyu. Grinning down at the rather fitting design on your latte, you lift the cup to take a sip only for your eyes to be immediately drawn to the napkin that sits on the saucer. You scan the message scrawled on it, hiding your smile behind the rim of your cup as you feign nonchalance, though pinpricks of heat are already beginning to form on your cheeks.

Still, you wait after you’ve finished your late breakfast until you spy Mingyu mopping up the floor behind the pick-up counter. He peers up through his eyelashes when you place your empty cup and plate in front of him.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile, “just leave it there, I’ll get it after I finish.”

Much to his confusion, you don’t walk away. Instead, you continue standing at the opposite side of the counter with an expectant glint in your eyes. Bewildered, he looks down at your empty cup, brows furrowing when he spots what appears to be writing on the napkin underneath it. Hesitantly, he picks it up.

Oh, he’s so going to kill Wonwoo.

my friend thinks ur rlly cute and wants to ask u out and it’s painful watching him struggle, pls put him (& me) out of his (our) misery if u like him 2, no pressure though

“I—I can explain,” Mingyu stammers, mouth opening and closing like a fish but words simply refuse to leave him. It’s cute, it reminds you of the goldfish you had as a kid, Turtle. You loved that funky orange dude.

And perhaps love truly is in the air, because you think you really like the barista standing before you too.

“Well, I did say I don’t have any plans today,” you muse, beaming at him, “and if my memory serves me right, so did you.”

“M-Me?” he echoes, jabbing a finger at his chest, “you wanna hang out… wi-with me?”

A beautiful chime travels to his ears as you giggle. “Yes, Mingyu, I’d love to hang out with you.”

“My shift ends in ten! W-We could go somewhere after that, if you want!”

You grin, cheeks round from smiling so widely as you toy with the lace hem of your sleeve. “Sounds like a date.”

a/n: is this word vomit? atp idk anymore 😞 but thank you sm for reading and feedback is greatly appreciated hehe ily besties 💗💗

[pandoradoesotherstuff]

Unexpected...

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

A/N: My other half played through Metal Gear Solid 5 for the first time and now I'm a little obsessed with cowboy Ocelot. 🤦😂

Anyway I tried my hand at writing a few scenes for him, I hope they're okay!

Enjoy. ❤️

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

Ocelot grits his teeth as he sees you of all people step off of the helicopter at Motherbase. If it was up to him he'd never have contacted you in the first place but sadly it wasn't up to him, it was up to Big Boss and he'd insisted that you be brought along. Said you had the contacts and top secret intelligence needed to complete his current mission.

As much as he hated to admit it Ocelot had no doubt about that. You were a mercenary of sorts, except you bought and sold information, sulking around the darkest dankest corners of the globe, contacts in bad places and friends in worse still. But just because you could be useful didn't mean that you should be there at all.

Miller nudged him as you made your way over to them but the dark look Ocelot gave him kept Miller quiet. Even he had his limits.

"Adamska, long time no...see". Your eyes slowly look him up and down, lips curling up into that smirk he'd grown to hate.

"That's Ocelot to the likes of you". His voice is dangerous and low, southern twang growing stronger with his irritation.

"We'll see".

Miller snorts as Ocelot rolls his eyes, turning his back on you already but red gloved hands hovering close to his beloved revolvers. Just incase.

You watch the tall straight back of Adamska disappear into an office a little ways off.

"How long do you think it'll be before he takes a shot at me?" You grin at Miller.

"I'd give it another five minutes at least".

* * * * *

Ocelot stands on one of the upper decks of Motherbase, sea breeze blowing gently as the sun starts to sink below the horizon, arms folded across his chest, steely eyes focused on the scene below.

You were tussling with one of the recruits, practising your own version of CQC while a group of them watched. It seemed like the recruit had the upper hand, their arm wrapped around your throat trying to choke you out. Despite himself he smiles just a little. He'd seen you escape countless times, it was only a matter of time.

"Three...two...one..." He counts under his breath. Then it happens. You stop trying to pry their arm away and instead poke them hard in the eyes. He can hear the recruit yelp from his high position.

You then elbow the recruit as hard as you can causing them to finally let go but you don't stop there. You grab their arm again, using your body weight to pull the recruit to the floor along with yourself, your thighs wrap around their head and neck in a vice like grip, arms held by your own so they were now trapped.

Ocelot's stomach twists a little, unwanted memoires of the past flooding his mind like a tsunami. He'd been in a similar position more than a few times with you himself albeit doing something very different. As much as he hates to admit it and god knows wild horses couldn't drag the confession out of him, he still remembered every thing about you. The way your lips tasted in the rain, the feel of your skin on his, your thighs wrapped around his head as your voice grew more frantic and-

-No!

That was enough of a trip down memory lane for one day.

The sea breeze felt good on his slightly flushed skin just then as he looks back down again. You had finally let go of the recruit, kneeling next to them as they tried to catch their breath, you patting them maybe a little condescendingly on the shoulder.

Ocelot adjusts his trousers trying to ignore the slight tightness in them as you and the group of recruits disappear into the dining hall. For a second he thinks about going down there by "weird coinsidence" so he could keep an eye on you but if Miller ever found out he'd never hear the damn end of it.

"When are you going to get the balls to talk to them finally?" The very man himself says from his left. Ocelot draws out his revolver with a quick flip and points it straight between the other man's sunglass covered eyes.

"Not. Another. Word".

* * * * *

Ocelot's stomach drops as he sees you in Big Boss's arms. Your pallor was deathly pale, bandages wrapped around your waist already saturated with blood, head lolling back and forth as he steps off the helicopter. The two men share a look but no words are exchanged between them as the medical team rushes you away on a stretcher for immediate treatment.

Big Boss moves to stand next to Ocelot, lighting up a cigar before taking a deep drag and finally talking.

"They'll be alright", was all he said.

Ocelot didn't answer.

* * * * *

The room is pale white and sterile looking, smelling strongly of disinfectant, the only noise coming from the steady beeping of your heart monitor. You were lying perfectly still on the hospital bed, eyes closed, chest gently falling and rising. Ocelot locks the door behind him as he enters, for once he wants to be alone with you. He hesitates for a moment before taking off one of his leather gloves and placing his large hand lightly over yours. You still haven't woken up since you got injured but he knew it was only a matter of time. He decides he should probably say something but the right words are hard to find.

"Here we are again кролик...after all the shit I went through last time I swore if I ever saw you again I'd shoot you right between the eyes. And you better believe I meant it. Then I saw you getting off the helicopter and I...I couldn't do it". He sighs deeply, pausing to think more on what to say as his thumb rubs across the back of your hand.

"Wake up кролик, please. We need you, Motherbase needs you. Hell, even I need you...пожалуйста, проснись". Ocelot puts his glove back on and leaves your hospital room as quietly as he could. Nobody needed to know he'd ever been there.

* * * * *

"Come in", snaps Ocelot from behind his desk after hearing a gentle knock on his office door. His pen stops dead as he glances up and see's you standing there in the door frame.

"Got a minute?" You ask, looking unusually awkward. Ocelot sits the pen down with a little more force than necessary, staying silent as he focuses his steely eyes on yours.

"I'm leaving tomorrow for good. Bright and early". You pause waiting for his reaction but still he stays silent. Truthfully he was a turmoil of emotions, each one more complex than the last. "I guess what I came here to say was...I heard you in the hospital room Adamska. I was unconscious but still, I heard you. People like us can't ever be normal, we don't get to have normal lives and normal relationships but for what it's worth ты мне тоже нужен".

He doesn't get the chance to answer as you quickly turn around and leave, closing the door with a quiet snap behind you.

Not even 30 seconds later however, he hears the sound of a note being slid under the door.

"I hate depressing good byes, so come to my quarters later tonight and let me give you a better one".