#play clown music insert clown face

[sf9]

SF9 'Puzzle' MUSIC VIDEO Choreography

[jokeringcutio]

"This is a Nice Job" - Black Phone & FNAF Crossover - Reader Insert (Implied William Afton x Reader & Grabber x Reader) [ 1/?]

AN: As I am known to do, I might just start a few drabbles in this setting because I love it.

Summary: You're working at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Place for William Afton and Mr. Henry, when you have a chat with the hired magician for the day: The Great Al.

Fandoms: Five Nights at Freddy's, The Black PhoneRating: Teen? Warnings: Older man/younger woman, Nothing Explicit (yet), Only implied William Afton x Reader & Grabber(Albert Shaw) x Reader, Flirting with murderers? Reader likes her job around kids. Not betaread. [ Support x ]

This was actually inspired by @cartoonykat's ask:

Loud music filled your ears, interrupted by the occasional shouts of little children as you darted between the tables, a tray of fizzing drinks balanced precariously in your grip. The squeals and laughter of children swirled around you, their faces smeared with icing and joy. You placed a paper cup before each eager set of hands, your smile never faltering.

"Careful now, don't spill," you murmured, patting a small head as its owner looked up at you with wide, grateful eyes.

"Thank you!" the child chirped, clutching the drink like a treasure.

"Happy to help," you replied, your voice a soft melody amid the cacophony of celebration.

Your gaze swept across the room, ensuring all was well, when the sudden hush of captivated little ones snagged your attention. There, at the center of the restaurant, stood Albert Shaw, the hired magician for today’s party. Freddy’s Pizza Place usually had a few performers they worked with, including a clown and this magician. His white-painted face was stark against the backdrop of colorful streamers, his large sunglasses hiding eyes that held secrets darker than the void.

‘The Great Al’, they called him, as he conjured silk scarves from his large top hat, making them dance like serpents charmed by his will alone. With the hat off you could see the shoulder-length dark hair that he hid underneath his hat most of the time. It was already turning grey, betraying his age which was harder to pinpoint with all the makeup covering his face.

He plucked coins from behind ears, eliciting gasps and giggles from his audience, each trick a thread in the tapestry of his dark artistry. He was good with the kids, you thought. His low voice occasionally made its way over the music that he had playing in the background. You found yourself rooted to the spot, your heart thudding a dangerous rhythm.

"Watch closely," he intoned, his low gravelly voice a siren's call that reverberated through your bones. A deck of cards appeared in his hands, flickering through his fingers as if alive. Strong hands, you noted. Thick fingers. Delicious. No – You shook the dirty thoughts away. You shouldn’t be thinking about one of the restaurant’s performers like that.

And then, with a flourish that defied logic, the cards transformed into a flurry of doves, their wings beating against the still air of the restaurant. The children erupted in applause, but you barely heard them. Your pulse quickened. The magician smiled as he revealed a small box and teased the kids with it. It was empty, but after a magical spell, the box was suddenly filled with enough candy to share around. You’d seen this performance several times now, and every time he managed to captivate you.

"Impossible," someone whispered beside you, echoing the disbelief that churned in your thoughts.

Al's performance built to a crescendo, the very air charged with anticipation. With a final bow, he finished, receiving thunderous cheers from his young fans.

"Amazing," you breathed, the word slipping out like a prayer to a deity you were only beginning to comprehend.

"Excuse me,” the voice cut through the din of merriment, stark and commanding. You flinched, recognizing the voice before you turned around. “Could you come here for a moment?"

Oh no, have I done something wrong? The worried voice echoed inside your mind. I was only looking for a moment, Mr. Afton, you thought to yourself, focusing on what you could say in your defense. I was still on the job and paying attention.

Mr. Afton, your boss and one of the restaurant’s owners, stood in the dimly lit entrance to his office, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He was tall, his stature was impressive for a man of his age. Already greying at the top, hair thinning, large glasses enlarging his eyes, belly poking out from underneath his arms.

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the excited group of kids that had gathered around Albert Shaw. But duty called, its voice as inescapable as gravity. With one last glance at the festive chaos of the party, you made your way toward your boss, the weight of his stare pulling you forward like a marionette on taut strings.

"Mr. Afton," you greeted him, striving for a tone of respectful professionalism despite the unease coiling in your stomach.

"Come inside my office," not a question, but a demand thinly veiled with kindness. His lips curled into a semblance of a smile, not quite reaching the coldness of his eyes behind those aviator glasses.

Mr. Afton was a tall man, taller than most that you met in your life. His hair was thinning on top and greying but still had a lively curl to it. His eyes seemed larger behind the thick glasses he wore. Strands of grey adorned his pepper-and-salt beard. He was the exact definition of a ‘dad bod’.  In fact, you had heard he had a family, even though you’d never seen them. Rumors said he was divorced.

You followed him inside to see a large desk, files, and papers strewn all over it. There was an animatronic in the corner of the room, purple, with ears hanging. You thought it might be some kind of rabbit.

The thud of the door closing behind you made you jump and you turned to look behind you to see Afton had closed it. His eyes met yours, only for a short while, and you fidgeted nervously with your hands because… had you done something wrong? Had he caught you looking at the magician? That must have been it, there was nothing else it could have been. He must think you to be slacking. But you weren’t. You were still alert, still focused on any peep from a parent or child.

You needed this job and actually liked it more than you thought you would.

"I've been watching you,” your boss started, licking his lips as he walked toward his desk and then turned to lean against it. He folded his arms in front of his chest, his purple tie wrinkling with the motion against his yellow blouse. The sleeves were pulled up, showing strong forearms riddled with veins and scars.

“You have a knack for this,” he started in that low, stern voice of his. “Keeping the little ones entertained."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, shuffling awkwardly in front of his desk. There was a chair there, but should you sit down? He remained standing so you should too, right? Your mind was racing. Had you done something wrong? Had you not followed protocol? Was your uniform in order?

"I just want to make sure they're all having a good time," the words stumbled from your lips, clumsily and awkwardly, but the smile you managed afterward seemed to soften the look in Mr. Afton’s eyes.

"Indeed." He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, like a storm cloud blotting out the sun. "However, I couldn't help but notice you seemed... distracted. By the magician, was it?"

You swallowed hard, caught off guard. "He's very talented," you deflected, but Mr. Afton's gaze pierced through your defenses, reading unspoken words.

“I,” you hesitated and watched as your boss raised a brow. Swallowing down your fear and gathering your courage, you spoke up again, louder this time. “I was still keeping an eye on the kids and delivering orders though. I might have seemed distracted but I was still doing my job.”

“So it seems,” Mr. Afton murmured, pressing a finger against his lips thoughtfully. You watched the wrinkle between his eyes deepen as he frowned.

"Be careful," he murmured, his voice silk over steel. "You are a pretty girl and I have noticed the man has been looking at you. People aren't always what they seem." There was a warning there, wrapped in the velvet of concern, yet it felt like a threat all the same.

"Of course, Mr. Afton. I'll remember that." Your words were steady, but inside, confusion and curiosity churned. Why did it feel like he cared? And why did it matter so much?

"Good." He clasped your shoulder briefly – a gesture that tried to be fatherly but felt possessive. "Keep up the good work. We need employees like you."

"Thank you, sir." You nodded, excusing yourself from his heavy gaze, a strange sense of relief flooding you as you stepped back into the colorful light of the party.

But as you returned to refilling cups and plating slices of cake, you couldn't shake the feeling of Mr. Afton's eyes on you, nor could you ignore the tingling sensation where his hand had been.

What had that been all about?

You wove through the sea of balloons and streamers, your heart still thudding from Mr. Afton's cryptic parting words. The din of the party enveloped you, a cacophony of glee that almost drowned out the lingering unease. Almost.

The magician, Albert Shaw, stood center stage, lowering his sunglasses to reveal his pale eyes sweeping over the crowd like a predator surveying prey. Tiny hands clapped with fervor as he flourished his final trick – a bouquet appearing from thin air. The children squealed, their delight pure and infectious. But when your gaze met his, something flickered there – an abyss that beckoned and repelled.

"Bravo!" The word slipped from your lips, but the echo in your mind whispered caution.

"Thank you, my dear audience!" Shaw's voice wrapped around the room, velvet lined with smoke. His bow was elegant, yet each movement seemed calculated, a dance with shadows only he could see.

As you slipped behind the bar, the festive chaos became a blur. You began stacking cups, the routine task grounding you. You missed Erica and Lucy. They at least pulled you into conversations every now and again. Today, your only colleagues were Mike and El, who were just teenagers whose hormones had started to work and who were way too busy with each other than with managing the tables. And there were Justin and Jax. The two J’s. Boys who had worked here for so much longer than you that they often forgot you were there and were mostly talking to each other.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, focusing on the music that played from the speakers softly in the background, that you hadn’t noticed the magician’s approach until his presence loomed over you. Albert Shaw leaned against the polished wood, his silhouette casting a long shadow in the neon glow.

"Could I trouble you for a glass of water?" His request was simple, mundane, but it crawled under your skin, insistent.

That voice, you thought, hearing that deliciously dark rasp in it. Was he a smoker? Whatever caused his voice to sound like that, it worked for you. It did things no employee should have to go through during working hours.

Embarrassing really.

"Of course," you replied, your voice steady despite the tremble in your fingers. "It's on the house," you joked. You poured the water, the liquid crystal clear and innocent, an odd contrast to the darkness that seemed to cling to him.

"Generous," he remarked, a smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. It was a smile that promised secrets, a whisper of sin.

“I do have lemonade, soda, perhaps a fizzy drink?” You offered, cocking a brow. “I know there are cans of beer in the back. I could get a real drink for you. No costs.”

The man’s expression was hard to read, with all the makeup and the dark glasses hiding his bright eyes once more. But you thought you could see his smirk grow. His fingers curled around the glass of water, muscles tensing.

“A soda, then,” he said after a contemplative hum. “I still need to drive home.”

“A soda it is then,” you confirmed, looking at him from over your shoulder as you set to work to get him his free drink. “Most men prefer the beers.”

“Like I said,” his gravelly voice came while he tapped the brim of his top hat. “Got to drive.”

You watched as he sipped from his glass of water. Little droplets of sweat were running down the sides of his cheeks, smudging the white of his makeup.

“Responsible,” you murmured, placing the soda in front of him. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks.” He took the glass, fingers brushing yours. Electric. Intentional. You inhaled sharply, the air suddenly thick with something unspoken.

Your pulse raced. This man was danger masquerading as charm, and yet, you were drawn like a moth to a flame.

You cleared your throat and quickly turned away.

"Nice performance," you managed, feeling heat creep into your cheeks. The innocence of the party around you clashed with the intensity of the moment, the frivolity of balloon animals and birthday cake juxtaposed against the enigma before you. You were vaguely aware of eyes upon you, but when you looked up, all of your co-workers were busy minding themselves.

“You’ve seen me perform before,” the magician said. Touché. He was right there. “Was today’s better than all my other performances? Or just not as bad?”

You turned to face him again, forcing a small smile.

“It’s always a pleasure to watch your shows,” you hesitatingly confessed. Were your cheeks red again? Could he see that you were blushing? You hoped not. You clumsily started to wipe the bar with a wet rag, wiping away stains of spilled drinks and oily fries.

"Albert Shaw," he introduced himself formally, though you already knew. His name had been murmured in hushed, awed tones all day. He was on the list in the backrooms, hired via Abracadabra Entertainment & Supplies. You knew Afton and Henry bought most of their balloons and garlands from them as well. Although the agency wasn’t as big as Ha-Ha’s, from which they hired their clowns.  

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Shaw." Your reply was automatic, but your mind was alight with curiosity and a dangerous thrill. You lifted the wet rag, showing you couldn’t shake hands with him, to which he took no notice. He reached for your free hand, despite it being wet from the rag as well, took it without hesitation, and shook it.

You stood frozen, uncertain of what to do or how to react, when his hand was already long gone. But Albert was already talking, seemingly unaware of how the little gesture – that little skin-on-skin contact – had rattled you.

"Please, call me Albert." His tone was insistent, a command cloaked in courtesy.

"Then you should call me…" You cut yourself short, almost giving away more than you meant to, "a fan of your work." Not that he wouldn’t know your name by now. It was on a badge on your chest.

"Perhaps one day," he said softly, "you'll show me what you're a fan of up close." The suggestion hung heavy between you, tantalizing and terrifying.

"Maybe," you breathed, the word barely more than a whisper.

As he leaned forward, his finger darted out to the badge on your chest. “Pretty name,” the words tumbled from his lips far more erotically than they should have. “Fits you.”

He then leaned back on the stool in front of the bar and picked up his glass while you spun around with cheeks all flushed, the wet rag still in your hands. You made the error of pressing the rag against your forehead, making you wince and leave for the backroom to get rid of it and dry your head.

This man was making you do weird things.

Upon your return, he was still at the bar, finishing a talk to one of the parents, and seemed to have taken his glasses off. Finally. Wearing sunglasses indoors was weird. As the dad left, Albert turned back to you and nursed his drink. Your eyes deliberately focused on the kids playing, rather than on the way the magician’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he drank.

Yup. Definitely not going to look at that.

“You’re enjoying this job, aren’t you?” Albert’s words caught you by surprise and you turned to him.

“Well, yes,” you said, because it was obvious. At least you hoped it was.

“You’re smiling radiantly. Like a bright star in the night,” Albert said, a toothy smile cracked the white of his makeup.

“Well," you replied, trying to steady your breathing. "Their laughter, it's... it's infectious." Your words fluttered out, betraying the turmoil within.

"Laughter, yes," he echoed, but something about his tone felt off. It gave you that weird shivery feeling down your spine. "The sound of pure... innocence."

He drank the soda, watching you over the rim of the glass, and you knew that this was no ordinary thirst. This was the thirst of a man accustomed to getting what he desires, by means unknown and best left unexplored.

You shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his stare heavy on your skin and you vaguely excused yourself. “I got swipe behind here too or the boss will think I’m not working.” Anything to get away from his eyes.

“Of course,” Albert replied, the grin never leaving his face.

“Didn’t he used to perform as well?” Albert’s question surprised you and you blinked up, already holding a broom in your hands.

“Huh?”

Albert hummed. “The yellow bunny suit, if I remember correctly. He told me about it once.”

You had to stifle a laugh. “What’s up with you performers and hiding your faces?” You asked. “You, the clowns, all use makeup. And the acrobat lady too. Or they wear big suits with masks.”

"Ah, but we all wear masks, don't we?" Albert tilted his head, a lock of greying hair falling across his brow.

"Sometimes without knowing it," you agreed, feeling the truth of those words more than you cared to admit. Then you sighed, the broom nearly slipping out of your hands.

“I don’t like wearing masks though,” you admitted almost dreamily. “I like to show the world who I really am. Putting on a front seems incredibly tiresome to me, don’t you agree?”

When your eyes met those of Albert, they were unreadable.

“It’s an astonishing thing, to be bashfully and unashamedly oneself.” The words came out brittle, then he reached into the pocket of his black coat.

"Here," he said, slipping a card from his sleeve with a flourish that made you jump. The black and red design swirled before your eyes, hypnotic. "In case you ever need a touch of magic."

His smile was a predator's grin, yet oddly charming.

“Got to do all my advertising myself. And since you were impressed…”

"Thank you," you stammered, feeling the card's smooth edges as you took it. The numbers danced under your fingertips, promising things unsaid.

"Call anytime," he added with a wink. It felt like a secret pact, one you weren't sure you wanted to be part of.

"Maybe I will," you murmured, pocketing the card, the heat of the exchange lingering like a spell.

As he turned to leave, Mr. Afton's shadow fell over you, icy and suffocating. You looked up to find his gaze locked onto yours, unreadable. Was it anger? Curiosity? Longing?

"Good work today," he said, each word measured and precise, but there was something else in his tone. A darkness that coiled beneath the surface.

"Thank you, Mr. Afton," you responded automatically, trying to sound unaffected. But your heart raced, betraying your composure.

"Keep our guests happy," he continued, his voice low, commanding. "That's what keeps them coming back."

"Of course," you nodded, but his eyes never left yours, pinning you like a butterfly in a case.

After a silence that felt like an eternity, Mr. Afton’s stern gaze finally left your face and he turned away from you. “Good girl,” it was but a low whisper, and you had to blink, wondering if the words had been real or if you had imagined them.

The moment you came out of your daze, Mr. Afton had returned to his office, seating himself behind his desk and leaving the door ajar so that he was in your field of vision. Your eyes searched the bar, but it seemed that ‘The Great Al’ had left.

As you watched Mr. Shaw vanish behind the swinging double doors, a shiver crawled up your spine. Laughter and chattering filled your ears, pulling you back to the here and now. And when you looked up, it was to see Mr. Afton as he lifted his eyes from the papers he was working on. Pale eyes that rested upon you for just a tick too long.

You loved your job, but whatever was going on here, you had no clue. The possibilities that filled your mind were too weird to consider. Patting the card hidden away on your body as a silent reminder to put it in your bag before you went home, you decided to ignore the weird tension that had been in the room earlier. And with a smile on your face, you went back into the sea of kids.

You loved this job and all the odd people you met through it.

AN: Guys, I did a thing (: Have you noticed the Arthur Fleck/Joker hints in it.

[sappy-detective]

TOTALLY forgot about this saiouma prompt but it’s been a while so.. saiouma prompt! except they’re alternate and at a music festival

kaede tried to drag shuichi out of his shell because he’s been really depressed lately and she decides to take him to a music festival. because some of her and his favorite bands are playing there:

he leaves her for a bit to buy some of their CRAZY overpriced drinks and merch. he plan to meet up with her at of the smaller (not a headliner) stages of one of her favorite bands.

it’s near the end of a rock bands set. people are walking away but there’s still an active mosh pit and people jumping, yelling and pushing.

he try’s to text her but the wi-fi is so shit all he can get out of her is that “i’m at the front!”. great.

he tries to make his way forward but people are pushing him back and not letting him through because.. well they’re to focused on the music.

anyway a guy bumps into him and woah, it’s a guy in full white face paint (juggalo makeup).

he askes what the hell shuichi is doing and he’s like “i’m trying to get to the front. friend is there waiting for the next set and i need to get to her..”

“oh! i’m going to the for that band to! i’ll take you with me if you want”

shuichi accepts because well, he needs help.

“hold my hand and don’t let go! no matter how much people push just push back okay? don’t let go”

WOAH hand holding? for this little vergin emo boy?(jokes). plus the boy is pretty cute so whatever.

he takes his hand and kokichi leads him to the front and helps him through the crowd. kokichi is smaller and it’s easier for him to make his way through the people moving.

they FINALLY make it after the band set ends and they’re waiting for the band they’re both there to see.

“do you see her?”

“oh uh.. no..”

they start talking and joking and shuichi is like

“yah my friend really likes this band i’ve never heard of it before it’s like (insert whatever smaller band u want. i’ll just say) dog park dissidents”

“huh? this is ICP?”

“what..?”

“what stage where you supposed to be at?”

“uh, the yellow one?”

“this is the red stage.”

“oh..”

and yes it has to be an ICP concert. 1) kokichi would LOVE ICP and 2) it’s definitely an experience. especially for a boy who’s never been to a show EVER. for context. clowns throw (diet) faygo (soda) the WHOLE time out of buckets, water guns, and ofc ICP shakes the bottles and throws them into the crowd. it’s fucking AWSOME.

but a crazy ‘band’ to pop your first concert cherry.

shuichi ends up standing behind him with his hands on either side of the boy, holding onto the railing so the guy doesn’t get pushed to much.

they end up leaving the stage and shuichi ended up having a really good time. even tho he was soaked in diet soda, his makeup was runny and his hair was wet he had a great fucking time. they start talking and walking around and kokichi finds miu and taro and shuichi finds kaede. she laughs at him because he’s soaked in soda but he seems more lose so she’s happy. ending is up to you or whatever! anyway yah you should go to a music festival once in your life!

[web-novel-polls]

Favorite WN Quotes - Bonus: ORV

Quote 11: KDJ Crying

I didn’t cry. 「 Kim Dokja was crying. 」 - Kim Dokja & the Fourth Wall, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 180

Quote 37: Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World

「There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. I have forgotten some of them now. However, one thing is certain: you who are currently reading these words will survive.  –Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World [Complete]」 - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 1

Quote 38: I Believe in You

"If hyung was such a person, you wouldn't have saved me on the subway. I believe in you.”  - Lee Gilyoung to Kim Dokja, Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint, Chapter 21 

Quote 39: Just Somehow Survive

"Survive and take responsibility! Atone for the rest of your life or live a garbage life. Just somehow survive!”  - Kim Dokja to Lee Jihye, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 40 

Quote 40: Wanted to Believe

"Still… if possible, I wanted to believe. I was able to come here because I believed in someone.”  - Yoo Sangah, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 46

Quote 41: Face the Wall

“I only believe in people with walls. In order to understand someone, I think I should face that wall first.” - Han Donghoon, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 60

Quote 42: Fuck capitalism fr

"Working up to build up history to become a constellation and then building up narratives to become narrative-grade constellations… then what? The higher the sky, the brighter the star? How long will you continue using the descendants of this land for your own sake?”  - Kim Dokja, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 72 

Quote 43: Won't Give Up So Easily

“–If I was going to give up so easily, I wouldn't have started this journey.” - Yoo Joonghyuk, Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 82

Quote 44: No Sentences Describing These Deaths

“I had read all of Ways of Survival. I understood the settings, the meaning of the explanations and finally thought that I had figured out the author's intentions. But in Ways of Survival, there were no sentences describing these deaths.”  - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 90

Quote 45: Loved by the Others

“I, someone of no redeeming quality, could be loved by the others.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 513

Quote 46: Pound at the Walls

“Even if we can't reach each other, even if we can't meet each other, we should continue to pound away on each other's walls. Even if that wall would never open up, keep writing something on that wall, anyway.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 538 

Quote 47: Most Proficient at Lying

“She wanted to tell him. Tell him that there was a world that didn't need his sacrifice to be saved. She thought that, if it was her, she should be able to do it.  Because she was most proficient at lying than anyone alive, after all.” - Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, Chapter 539

[Propaganda below] - Spoilers Warning!

Quote 11: KDJ Crying

Submission: 

Kim Dokja, putting on clown makeup: "I didn't cry."  The narrative, immediately calling him out: HELLO???YOU'RE LITERALLY SOBBING.  Kim Dokja, getting louder, as circus music starts to play behind him: "I'm a reliable narrator!" All of Kim Dokja Company: staring immediately at the camera like they're on the office

Quote 39: Just Somehow Survive!

Just somehow survive!!!! You can’t atone through death!!! You just have to somehow survive!!!

Okay, serious talk, this quote makes me want to eat dirt due to Kim Dokja (insert spoilers here) saying it to Lee Jihye, a teenager, facing her trauma of killing her best friend in a life-or-death situation. Kim Dokja killing Kim Namwoon as a way of killing him younger self is OUT, Kim Dokja helping Lee Jihye as a way of helping his younger self is IN (/mainly joking)

[atiny-for-life]

Xikers Full Storyline Explained - Part 4

Masterlist

We Don’t Stop

Before we begin, I'd like to point out that the first track on the album is already providing us with some additional information

By titling it "Trial and Error (whereabouts)", we're already getting a hint toward the setting of the video/album (this also plays into Xikers' entire concept which I explained here) and the instrumental itself is very much in line with other music we've heard in association with TRICKY

Tricky's world, which we got to see in "The TRICKY's Secret", is now the one we're stepping into while Xikers has already grown accustomed with it since they've long since been living inside the Tricky House

The first cutaway from the Tricky House itself takes us to a warped grid floor which has become associated with TRICKY, the being who's given Xikers their powers in Rockstar, and who I talk about more here

We spend the majority of the video witnessing the absolute wackiness that is TRICKY's world, i.e. how it's breaking physics with the sheer scale of its spaces or how this elevator with only buttons for five floors has already reached a floor in the 400s by straight up exiting the building and getting shot into the stratosphere

Shoutout to the elevator interior for continuing the skater boy aesthetic from previous videos and having Jinsik say "Hands up, high up / Never die" while his members are being blasted into outer space in the background

And not just that, we also get straight up punched in the face by him while the others watch on and then stand over our broken body with shocked faces as if they hadn't been a part of the assault - thanks, guys

This is where I'd like to point out that it was also Jinsik who put the headphones on their victim in Tricky House, meaning he's likely the instigator behind a lot of their schemes/"pranks", maybe even a leader of sorts

The lyrics also further reinforce their dokkaebi/goblin concept by referencing their powers and tendency to play pranks/tricks on people:

Everyone's gonna be smiling, even that clown over there [...] Faster, teleport (Ayy, ayy) Blink and I disappear (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy) Follow me if you don't want to miss it, shout it [...] Bewitched by me, let go of the reins

We also get this neat shot in which they use a practical effect to insert Hunter into the frame by using a mirror the others are holding

While this is cool to look at, it's also a nice nod to the paranormal wherein mirrors are considered portals through which supernatural beings can travel

Similarly to the grid-floor room, we also get a performance shot of Xikers in another liminal-space looking room with a geometric line design that feels surreal and shares the same color-scheme as TRICKY's world in 'The TRICKY's Secret'

From here, we often return to the same shooting locations but do also get to see the world and their powers in action some more, such as when Minjae (and later also the others) manipulate the buildings around them so they would move along to the song

Toward the end of the video, we move into black-and-white territory as the beat slows

During this section, we get this nice little nod to the Tricky House choreo from Hunter who then also becomes the center at the very end which is reminiscent of past videos where he was also a focal point

[taehyungfirst]

(sorry this is long)

as a boycotter who's stopped music, and almost everything from the entertainment industry across the globe (particularly songs with zionist writers/producers/singers) I just wanna say, this whole "armys only boycotted taehyung" or "armys are silent about the boycott now when it's the fav" is disingenuous at best.

A) The reason most taehyung fans even heard about the boycott in the first place, is because tae's content was included in it.

tae fans focused on what Palestinian armys were doing only when it affected tae, and were completely ignorant otherwise (for the most part).

So why do some of these fans think that just because they personally haven't seen anything, that the boycott has somehow ended, or isn't going just as strongly?

Those fans haven't seen much cause those fans don't focus on much outside of tae.

Tae has faced lots of sabotage by company/industry over the years, but reducing the boycott, which was made by those who don't hate tae at all (or any of the members) as some sort of ploy to sabotage tae, is ignorant af. especially when the movement was created by actual Palestinians trying to get HYBE to fire an actual extremist zionists who is directly complicit with what's going on.

Scooter isn't just a guy who believes in Israel, he's actively worked hard to benefit Israel. Mf got a shoutout from Israel. He visited occupied Syria and posed with the same tanks that have killed innocent people. Not to mention where he spends the money he earns, and the effort he's put in to spread dangerous propaganda worldwide.

His influence in Hybe is also growing, and that's exactly what we were afraid of.

Hybe's done nothing except ignore us and try to silence us, and continue to have their artists collab with the biggest zionist brands, and work with zionists.

Idk, Tae is my bias and I always thought a lot of tae fans were kind of smart, but seeing how literally all fans, whether they're ot7 or solos or akgaes, behave in the same exact way, has shattered that belief.

Pal armys could call out every member, but every fan will choose to be blind during that UNTIL the member they bias or stan is the one being called out, then suddenly it's "oh you only focus on X, but not on *insert other member* who did so and so"

literally every time.

Like right now, Tae just posted about McDonalds. majority of ta fans ar gonna go 'y'all have a problem ONLY with tae. Y'all HATE Tae. This fandom is ANTI Tae, and you didn't say anything about other members..." which is immediately just clown talk, considering how much Jin was being called out for being a torch bearer in the olympics (olympics was officially on the bds list) and for signing with a zionist brand very recently.

B) Perhaps part of the reason y'all haven't heard more about the boycott this time around (despite more and more people actually joining the movement) is because while before, fans would boycott but still talk and be excited by the content, now a lot of fans are focusing more and more on things outside of Kpop, so less and less boycotters have even spoken about Jm's albums (although files have been shared, and boycotters have been reported and suspended for it, still)

Idk, if you don't agree with the boycott movement , that's one thing, but to play sabotage olympics specifically about this, when it has nothing to do with biases or whatever, and everything to do with not wanting to give a dime to HYBE's greedy, capitalistic, zionist ass, is frustrating.

No one is exempt from being called out, and doing so isn't because "we're anti", and nor is any specific member, or group, or artist being specifically targeted, everyone is.

Also, OP, the harshness of my ask isn't directed at you at all, you've said nothing wrong, but this idea seems prevalent with a lot of tae fans, and I've seen this take too many times today.

No one bothers listening to Palestinians fans to learn what's actually happening. Everyone just makes their own assumptions to suit their narrative and then runs with that :/

Hi!

I’ve seen lots of people saying “you only focus on x member instead of…” and I assume it’s because of laser focus: your tl is all about your bias so you see people complaining about it making it seem like they’re only calling him out, kind of like an echo chamber. But they really all got called out, be it Jk with Golden, Jin and his new brand/olympics, Nj and his daily posts, the zionist collabs…

Now this case specifically, the mcd picture, I think it was just to show how tiny were the fries compared to his hand and considering he took that one year ago it’s harmless, the problem is choosing to post that RIGHT NOW, with an active boycott going on. So I do agree on educating him, that’s the best thing you can do. I don’t agree with it being used for fanwars, for a dick measuring contest where you wanna show that x is better than y, that’s not activism, that’s you trying to win a moral competition in a stan twitter fanwar. That’s the furthest you could be from activism. I also won’t stand with armys who have tried to make him a scapegoat for months and are now resorting to call him with the worst names and throw the worst allegations on him, that’s not educating. Don’t hold him to standards you don’t even hold yourself to, that’s what I’m saying. But I am 100% in for educating him.

[odd-dragon]

Okay I wanna know General #7 for Morgan, Fortune, and Rhiannon

But I also want to know about the Dribbles question for all of them but especially Fortune because I think she's the only one who would be down for it being a bard.

General #7: Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game?  Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?

*Quick note* - I have played with mods for most of my games, and really like playing with weird tiefling types from Astralitie's Tiefling Compendium. As such, certain character decisions were informed by this.

Morgan: I like to think Morgan has an interesting conundrum to work with, and her quest would have branches too, as she's a Baalzebub (rot and death) tiefling druid. "But Cal!" You might say "Druids deal with all the aspects of life, and there are druids that deal specifically with death and the nastier aspects of nature, like shadow druids and twilight druids!" And that's true. But Morgan wasn't trained by those druids. She's a circle of dreams druid, a healer. She has this fun dichotomy of life and death, light and shadow, growth and rot... and she's just left her circle. She's trying to find her place in the world, and come into her own as a druid, and she's teetering between the two ways she could do it. Her first introduction to this conundrum, of course, would be facing off with the shadow druids in act one, and the way she leans after that would of course be determined by which actual mainline story beat the player chose, if given the chance. In the end, it'd be a very classic nature vs nurture case, and the player would end up with either a fantastic healer and buffer with a couple decent spells and an altogether cheery perspective on life or a terrifying death-wielder with poisons and fungus and an altogether grumpy, isolationist attitude in their corner.

Fortune: Fortune is a Nightborn Tiefling, born via a pact her parents made with a Night Hag (which, fun fact, is a type of fiend, rather than fae). She was then taken and would have been trained by said hag, if she hadn't been rescued and ran off to find her own way in the world. I feel like the Auntie Ethel quests are sort of lacking in their ignorance of a hag's best asset- her coven. Fortune's quest would probably have to do with her hunting the hag who created (and tried to brainwash) her, and for simplicity's sake, I would make said hag one of Auntie Ethel's coven. There wouldn't so much be a branching quest with two outcomes as much as there would be a question of how ruthless is she by the end of it- the hag would probably have to end up dead either way, and she's not going to get much from it other than catharsis, so the question is more a matter of how many other bodies she leaves in her wake and how many people she and the player help in the process.

Rhiannon: She's the one least likely to have a long-spanning quest over the course of the game, as she's honestly the least independently-developed tav I have- she started as a self-insert lol. But she probably has a small quest, likely related to Chromatic Scales, as she is a music-lover and that shop is criminally under-used in-game.

The Dribbles Question: What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?

Fortune's response: She's a bit of a tease, so she'd be reluctant at first, probably responding with something like: "...You know, I don't think this guy's up to Clown Code. You sure?" And then she'd be totally down to go up there and wreak havoc, no problem.

Morgan gets an honorable mention for: "Alright, but that's a Shadow Mastiff. You all see the Shadow Mastiff too, right? Like we fought dozens of those things in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and they were never good news." As curious as she is, she's really not a fan of crowds... or clowns. And of course the shadow mastiff is a big deal.

Rhiannon, actually, went up all on her own in my original playthrough, so her response would probably be something along the lines of "Sure, but no promises as to quality of entertainment."

[weebsinstash]

Hi :3 I was wondering if you had watch the new episode of helluva boss any thoughts or at least any thoughts/thots for Chaz or Crimson.

My procrastination is so bad I literally waited until like today to actually watch the new episode

I keep mentally tossing around what kind of special powers Reader could have that would make them like idk more interesting since all sinners are unkillable and I kind of keep circling back to "well if they're in limbo maybe they're not beholden to 'the rules' and can travel the rings' besides whatever other special powers they may have". Maybe Reader can be helpful in killing Hellborns since they have respawn mechanics and the other IMP members dont?

In terms of Crimson I actually think his behavior is going to be a lot like Val is going to be tbh, except with Val I think, unless you're a business associate or rival/enemy, that he wins you over emotionally or waits until he has something on you before he shows his darker side, since the Overlord is also a drug dealing mafioso of the Pride ring (also what's the deal with like shark people being criminals? Is Mammon a shark or something aquatic too? And when's gender daddy Asmodeus coming back, him n Val can pass me like a blunt 😩❤️). It's kind of stereotypical Mafia shit, everyone has ranking, loyalty is everything, obey orders unflinchingly, don't you dare talk back. Like I'm literally watching Crimson grab Moxxie's face and my stoned ass is sitting here like "sigh but Val grabbing Reader like that as he threatens them to 'fix their face before he fixes it for them' because theyre scowling and glaring at him while they serve him drinks and he forces them to smile 🥰" like big scary men got me acting unwise

I for one think it would be very funny if the Chaz introduction happened and in some alternate universe he's winking to Moxxie and Millie and just *finger guns at Reader* "and don't think I'm gonna forget about YOU either ;)" as Reader just visibly changes colors with embarrassment while IMP all turns to look at them, Reader flustered all "It was ONE TIME, I was really drunk, and--"

Like his stupid ass "sexually charged musical ballad" actually made me laugh like he could've maybe actually got me with that shit 💀like did you listen to the credits where they play the rest of the song. Laughing my ass off in my bedroom at 5am because the song suddenly ends with him saying all sing song "im finished" (cumming). and then Blitz says later in the episode that he's absolutely horrible in bed... lmao... can you imagine getting drunk and putting out for this man and then he wakes up and you're gone, note behind all "thanks for the fun time kthanksbye" meanwhile he's blowing up your phone, basically crushing on you, wanting something much more than just a really awkward one-off bang. I can only imagine what would happen to Reader if they were working for Val and someone very forward like Chaz or another ex shows up and the Overlord is getting jealous af because they're just being very openly flirtatious with you, maybe even brazenly mentioning some of the things you guys did together/in bed (also jesus the apples and oranges NIGHTMARE of having either Val OR Blitz know what you like in bed 💀 the teasing. The merciless fucking teasing. They would both clown on your ass so hard. You're just trying to have a glass of water in the IMP break room and in comes Blitz "wow you're really guzzling that, just like Chaz said you really liked giving h-" *insert not so playful strangling of your employer*)

Poor Reader constantly surrounded by demons hellbent (lol) on humiliating you and watching you get embarrassed because it's just so fun to watch you squirm until you're practically ready to cry 😩👌

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 14

Pretty Little Pieces

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 5371

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: Party plans are coming along, and your hard work is rewarded, but it seems like secrets keep on growing.

Author's Note: I am so jealous of our numbers girl 😭

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Degradation, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there), Bondage, PIV Sex, Large Cock, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Comeshot, Dom Mihawk, Dom Crocodile, Switch(?) Buggy, Death Threats, VERY Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

So many hands and lips on your skin, yet all you could feel were the weight of those words.

“You would… ”

“I’ll cut them down for you,” Mihawk whispered, rubbing his face along your neck and ear until your back arched for him. “We’re the only ones that get to make my little rabbit cry. What are their names?”

Crocodile let out a low hum as he settled closer to you, kissing across your shoulder while Buggy smoothed his hands over your legs.

“I don’t…” you choked out, closing your eyes against the dizziness that spun through you. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed as he pulled you against him. “Let’s get some sleep. You can write up your kill list in the morning.”

A dream. This is all some crazy dream.

A soft whimper left you as the hot tears staining your cheeks were caught just in time, and you knew it was Buggy’s fingers wiping them away. You sputtered, breathing too fast as you tried to gulp down air, to swallow the overwhelm. Mihawk touched your cheek before letting Buggy join his hands, sliding his body between yours.

“Hey, pretty star,” he soothed, stroking your hair while you clung to him. “I’ve got you.”

~

“How’s my girl?”

Dreams of stormy seas pulled away as that deep voice warmed the back of your neck. 

“Good,” you hummed, Crocodile’s body pressing in behind you. Opening your eyes, you saw Buggy still asleep, having rolled away from you onto his back. Mihawk’s amber eyes shined at you, and your lips parted to see him curled around the clown, resting his head against the other man’s chest while he stared at you. 

“Good. It’s been ages since I had a decent hunting trip. None of your enemies happen to be swordsmen, do they?”

Buggy tensed awake, his body frozen like he was playing dead, while you just gaped at Mihawk. Their offer came rushing back into your stormy mind, and you had no idea what to do with it. 

I can’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

All the bodies on the mattress went still.

“You trust us, don’t you,” Crocodile rasped, his voice somehow toeing a line between soothing and threatening. “You can tell us what you want.”

“I told you what I want,” you mumbled, breath catching in fear yet again. Buggy’s hand found your arm, and his warning grip on you was the only movement on the massive bed.

What am I doing?

“Why don’t we get some breakfast,” Mihawk offered lightly. “I prefer discussing murder after my espresso anyway.”

~

There was such a strange tension while you prepared for the day, while Mihawk carried you to the balcony, while they all stared at you over their plates. Chewing the inside of your lip as you tried to eat, you felt their gaze like a weight over your shoulders.

You realized why the tension felt so strange. It felt like the air in a room after a couple’s spat. 

I’m not afraid they’ll hurt me. I’m afraid they’re mad. 

“I’m sorry,” you spilled out, eyes wide as you looked between them all. “I trust you, I’m just not ready to talk about my past right now. Especially if you want me to focus on the party. I don’t want to be distracted.”

You’d expected Buggy to react the best to your apology, but he kept a hint of worry, maybe even hurt in his eyes as he smiled. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” Crocodile nodded, lifting your chin toward him. “But I like secrets just about as much as I like lies. We can wait until after the party, but my patience won’t last forever.”

Mihawk chuckled softly as ice slid down to your gut, and it was only his prodding that got you to eat a decent amount of your meal before you were carried to your desk, your notebook and transponder snail pushed toward you. 

I hate this. I fucking hate this.

Falling into work mode, you schmoozed with your contacts as if you’d never left your old life. That itchy feeling crawled up your spine during every moment of silence, your loud, guilty thoughts only dulled by your work.

It was a long day.

You gratefully accepted a glass of velvety wine as you sat on the couch, Buggy across from you on that green chair. He had a pad of paper on his knee, twirling a pencil in his fingers with a silly amount of flair. He looked so fucking cute like this, his brow creased in thought while he looked up at the ceiling, quirking his lips before jotting down notes. Crocodile and Mihawk had very reluctantly put him in charge of the entertainment, and he was taking it quite seriously.

“We have a full list of attendees, and most will be arriving with a plus one. Here’s the details for the three backers I confirmed today, their donations will more than pay for the event,” you reported, pride pushing away some of that tension. “They will expect VIP treatment, of course, but that–”

“Amazing work, sweetheart,” Crocodile praised as he lit a cigar, puffing it a few times while you smiled up at him. 

“You really are a treasure, aren’t you,” Mihawk purred, flipping through your notes. “I’m curious though, what does this, ‘U,’ mean?”

He set your list of contacts in your lap, flipping through a few pages to point out the clients you’d marked with that letter.

“All of your other descriptors are highly detailed, and not a single contact with that letter was invited to the party. Surely we should expand our list of potential backers as much as possible.”

“Let me see,” Crocodile huffed, grabbing your notes to toss on the coffee table. He leaned over them, flipping through the pages before pushing them aside. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabbed you, but didn’t resist when he sat you on the table to face them both. 

“You just told us the invite list was full, yet you didn’t call any of these people with the letter, ‘U,’ next to their names. Explain.”

His scarred face was like a force of nature, like looking into a sandstorm that you knew would swallow you whole. 

“It means un-unreliable,” you gasped, feeling the heat of their scrutiny against your skin. Your next words were hurried, but steadier. “I can call them if you want me to, and I would have if we hadn’t confirmed so many guests. But they talk too much, and they run in circles that could cause issues for the guild. A lot of them have connections to the Marines. I should have explained, I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.

“Why are you so afraid, little rabbit?” That whispered taunt made you shiver as Mihawk took your wine glass, before lifting one of your hands to his lips. “Did you just remember who we are? Only a few days of spoiling you, and you already forgot that you answer to us now, not some failed party clown.”

Crocodile leaned toward you, his hand on your thigh while he studied your face. 

“That idiot didn’t listen to your work, but I expect full reports from now on. You’ll tell us everything you’re doing and why you’re doing it, you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, gratitude flooding you. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk teased, pulling you back onto the couch. “I would hate to punish you over a misunderstanding. That’s all it was, right?”

“Yeah,” you chirped, catching Buggy’s wide eyes. He looked away quickly, staring at his notes, but his cute thinking process was gone, the pencil not meeting the paper again. 

Thank gods for wine.

A few bottles amongst the group left the awkwardness behind, until nothing but their skin on yours remained. No need to hide on that bed, no need to be anything but theirs. 

That thought tugged you out for just a moment, but you smiled as you gave yourself to these three bad men, yet again.

I chose to be theirs.

~

The tension of that day faded, replaced by that comforting, delicious danger you were always in. They carried you from room to room for the next few days until a shipment arrived. Trunks were carted into the suite after dinner, and Buggy’s floating hands started to open them while you sat nude on the bed. 

“Get your grubby hands off her clothes,” Crocodile ordered lazily, pointing to the trunk on the right. “Bring that one here.”

It was hard to keep your eyes open while Mihawk kissed the back of your neck, long fingers leaving circles on your thighs, until Crocodile leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Open this one.”

His deep voice was so soft, and you hummed as you reached for the clasp, lifting the heavy lid.

What the fuck?

“Well,” he asked, tapping the contents with his hook. “Do you like them, or should I send for something else?”

“N-no, I love them,” you squealed, grabbing a book from the pile, and running your fingers over the dragon on the cover. You flipped the pages, that lovely scent making you shiver. “Fantasy books…”

You laughed to yourself as you remembered that dinner on the balcony when he’d asked you what you like. Crawling onto his lap, you kissed up his neck while he let out a low chuckle. 

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Mm, anything for my sweet girl.”

“Yes, bring it to the door,” Mihawk ordered into the transponder snail, pulling your attention for a moment, which the scarred man pulled back when he fisted his hand into your hair, sucking marks onto your neck. 

The movements and voices in the room didn’t distract you this time, until a very particular sound rang through the air. 

A meow.

“Really,” Crocodile asked dryly when you left his arms, searching for that sound. 

Mihawk stood by the door, a smug smile tugging at his lips before he met your eyes.

“Would you like to hold him, darling?”

“Why…”

“You like cats, don’t you?”

Your brain paused, the cognitive dissonance these men kept putting you through making it hard to think. 

But another meow from the little brown tabby in Mihawk’s arms shook you loose, and soon you were sitting on the plush carpet, laughing while Buggy floated a gloved hand around like a toy for the cat to chase. 

“Look at all of our pets on the floor,” Mihawk laughed, setting a hand on Crocodile’s shoulder, removing it at the larger man’s narrowed eyes. “Come now, you’re not a fan of animals?”

“I prefer scales to fur,” he grumbled, meeting your smile with a sigh. “And I was hoping not to have to share Y/N’s attention with anymore men.”

You giggled, the furry man in question already bumping his head along your legs, and climbing onto your lap. 

“Does he have a name,” you asked, grinning as your new cat tried to crawl up to your shoulders, rubbing his face along your chin. 

“Not that I’m aware of. He was a stray.”

The image of Mihawk hunting the island for stray cats was too much, so you put it out of your mind while you searched for a name. 

“Adam.”

All three men repeated you, each with a hilariously different tone.

“That’s the least flashiest name ever,” Buggy pouted, scratching behind Adam’s ears. 

“Surprisingly, I agree,” Mihawk chided, tilting his head like a hawk about to fly down to steal the poor cat from your hands. “Why–”

“Why Adam?”

Crocodile’s interruption made everyone but Adam go silent, too much weight in the simple question. Heat rushed to your face, and you blinked up into his serious eyes. 

“It’s from a story my dad used to tell me,” you confessed, closing your eyes as you smiled at the memory of his voice. “About a magic tree that survived endless wars. People kept coming back after the island was destroyed, and they’d rebuild around that invincible tree, the—”

“The Jewel Tree Adam,” Buggy asked, his blue eyes shining as he scooted closer. “It’s not just a story. I sailed on a boat made from a Jewel Tree.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, stealing a kiss from those red lips before anyone could stop you. 

“That wood’s been sold on the black market. It’s rare, but it’s real,” Crocodile asserted. Once again, your mind stopped functioning, Adam bringing you back again, this time with his paw reaching toward your face. 

“So it is a flashy name,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at Buggy.

“Barely,” he rolled his eyes as Mihawk sighed in defeat. 

You helped Buggy arrange Adam’s things in the suite, until Mihawk pulled the cat away from you. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I had my old suite set up for our furry friend. He’ll be across the hall in his own little castle while we rip you apart. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the poor thing to see what we’re about to do to you.”

“You set up…” 

“I’ll show you the cat paradise tomorrow,” he huffed a laugh, petting Adam as he lounged comfortably in his arms. “Now be a good little rabbit for me, and I’ll try to convince Sir Crocodile to let the cat sleep in here when we’re done.”

“Not happening,” Crocodile drawled, hanging up his robe before sitting on the edge of the bed, patting his knee. “Why don't you finish thanking me, since we were so rudely interrupted earlier?”

His satisfied smile made your skin flush as you moved toward him, and you saw his cock twitching beneath his boxers, growing as he watched your bare skin. It made your mouth fall open with need, and with caution that you didn’t think would ever go away. 

“Mm, is my sweet girl still scared of her daddy,” he taunted, palming himself through the thin fabric. 

“But what about...” you started, turning around as Mihawk returned to the room. “I didn't try on any of the clothes.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Mihawk laughed, walking toward you until you backed up against Crocodile, those large thighs surrounding you. “It looks like your daddy wants to check how well you fit something else, isn’t that right?”

“I know she’ll fit just fine. Huh, babydoll,” he pulled you to him, moaning softly at your desperate noises, and your instinctive writhing when your ass rubbed against his hard length. “Did you like daddy’s present?”

“Mhm.”

“Not as much as she li–”

“Why don’t you go sleep in your little cat paradise,” Crocodile cut Mihawk off, his shifting attention keeping you from relaxing into him. 

“I’ve got another pussy in mind for tonight,” the swordsman quipped, and you gasped as a floating hand grabbed yours, tugging you out of reach. 

Buggy wrapped himself around you from behind, so you were caught in his warmth as you both looked at the frightening men in front of you.

“When you fight, she wants me.”

Buggy’s words made you feel too many things at once. They felt sweet, and sad, and territorial, and you didn’t know how to react.

“Is that true, little rabbit,” Mihawk asked, danger growing in his voice. “Do you want the clown?”

Oh, that sounds like a punishment waiting to happen. 

But I can’t lie.

“I do.”

Buggy’s soft noise made you melt against him, until you pressed against that heavy need of his, both of you reacting to the touch.

“Do you see this, Crocodile,” Mihawk gestured toward you with a wicked smirk. “It seems she didn’t like either of our gifts. Would you rather have what this clown can give you?”

You’d started to shake just a bit, not knowing which direction you should turn. Mihawk’s words always seemed to twist you where he wanted you anyway. 

Crocodile took pity on you, clearing up the question. 

“Sweetheart, would it make you happy to fuck that stupid clown?”

Buggy let out another squeak, but he pulled away from you slightly, so you wouldn’t feel how much he needed you. 

“It would make me happy.”

As if he couldn’t help it, Buggy pressed against you again, making you gasp as he rubbed his clothed cock along the meat of your ass, pretty little noises leaving his throat. 

Mihawk charged toward you, and you couldn’t help but notice the hard weight of his cock through his silk pajama pants. He gave an evil little smirk as he looked down at you, grabbing your cheeks to tilt your face.

“Such a spoiled little rabbit. We give you so many things, so many gifts, but that’s not enough, is it? My precious little slut needs another toy. Needs another cock, even when she’s all stuffed up. What do you think, Crocodile? Does she deserve another gift tonight?”

“Maybe my sweet girl hasn’t realized she’s grown out of her old toys.”

Mihawk’s laugh was sharp, too pleased, and your breath caught when he kissed you, and then Buggy on the cheek. 

“Good point, sandman. Alright, little treasure, we showered you with gifts tonight, and now you get to play with your old favorite toy. Let’s see if it’s still as much fun to play with after we’ve been spoiling you so much.”

You were frozen when Mihawk gestured toward the bed, but Buggy picked you up, floating you to the center of the mattress before crawling up your body, caging you in. 

“This okay, star,” he whispered, barely audible. It woke you up, and you nodded with a smile before he kissed you.

“Just a moment, pets,” Mihawk called, bringing your eyes to him. He and Crocodile pulled the couch all the way up to the bed, staring with hungry eyes that made you shiver. “We want to see if your old toy is still worth playing with. Croc, what do you think her minimum is with us?”

“Four. Minimum,” he said, voice rough as he pulled his boxers off, his massive dick like a looming threat. 

“That sounds about right,” Mihawk agreed as he followed suit, stripping before lounging on the couch, his thick cock drawing your eyes as it twitched slightly. “Let’s see if this toy can pull four orgasms out of our little whore, since she wants to keep it so badly.”

“What if he can’t,” Crocodile asked, his voice full of more dangerous humor than he usually had with Mihawk’s games. 

“There are so many pretty holes on that bed,” Mihawk threatened, his eyes raking over your skin, and Buggy’s as the clown stripped. “If she’s wrong about him after going against our wishes, I think we should break her, and her stupid toy.”

“You hear that, sweet girl,” Crocodile rasped, fingers moving lightly down his shaft, then pressing upward until you noticed that lovely bead of precum start to spill down the side. “Daddy keeps telling you to get over that pathetic clown, but you don’t fucking listen. This is your one chance to prove he’s worth it. If he can’t fuck you properly, then I’m gonna ruin you. Daddy’s cock is gonna tear you into pretty little pieces. You got that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whined, back arching while Mihawk laughed at you. 

“Should we roll dice to see which hole gets destroyed first,” he smirked, seeming absolutely giddy watching you writhe. His hungry eyes flicked to Buggy as the clown crawled back to you, holding himself above your body. “I suppose it’s show time isn’t it. Go on, clown. Make my little rabbit scream, unless you want to be a useless toy for the rest of your life.”

The insults still made you cringe, but Buggy smiled at you, that gorgeous, blue hair falling down around you like a curtain. 

“Will you be my flashy girl,” he rasped, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “Will you put on a real good show for me?”

“Yes, captain,” you breathed, moaning as he swallowed your smile with a needy kiss. 

“She’ll get that paint all over her,” Crocodile grumbled, but that was the last you heard from them as Buggy left trails of kisses and soft bites down your body, leaving your skin tingling while you laughed.

A gloved hand teased around your face, fingers pressing between your lips until you bit the fabric. He kissed your knees, grinning as you pulled his glove off with your teeth, like you had so many times before. He mirrored you with his other hand, tossing them off the side of the bed like a strip tease. 

Your breath caught when he positioned himself between your legs, so very close to where you needed him. 

“Want me to do that thing you like,” he asked, the heat and confidence in his words making your head tilt back before you could answer.

“Please, Bugs, I need you… ”

“Of course you do,” he agreed, tracing his face down your inner thigh until his breath teased your core. “No one can make you feel how I can, huh, baby?”

Dangerous words. 

Dangerous truth.

“No one, Buggy, please.”

“I’ve got you, gorgeous,” he purred as his hands pulled yours above your head, leaving one hand to trap yours there while the other caressed your body, toying with your chest. “Sing for your captain.”

Sloppy kisses to your clit made you squirm for him, whining as he sucked and teased, until you begged for more.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear ya down here. Whatcha need, dollface?”

“Gods, your tongue, your nose, Buggy, please.”

“Mm, your pretty pussy missed me that much?”

He chuckled as you whined for him, then tilted his face down to rub that perfect nose over and around your sensitive clit. Part of you heard voices, maybe laughter from the couch, but you were too busy pouting, still begging for more. 

“Your nose feels so good, baby. Give me more, please,” you pleaded as you shifted your hips, fighting for more friction. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he winked, shoving his face into your dripping cunt while you cried out his name. 

It always felt like he was designed for this, that round nose giving the perfect pressure as he tasted you. You could feel him rutting against the mattress, his needy movements adding to the rhythm. 

That floating hand massaging your chest focused in, and the teasing pinch to your nipple was enough to push you over the edge. He kept that rhythm and pressure to your clit while you came, and you laughed when he yelled “one,” before returning to his work.

“Do you want me deep?”

His eyes were dark, and heavy with need as he checked in. The sight of his drenched, messy face made you moan, taking a few breaths before you could answer.

“I want you so bad, Buggy, please. You make me feel so good,” you praised, gasping as that teasing hand wrapped fingers around your throat, warning, but not squeezing yet. 

“Want me–”

“Choke me, Buggy, fucking take m–”

So many sensations at once. That lovely hand around your neck pressing tight, his face diving into your core as his nose circled your clit again, and his tongue going deep. 

He licked and tasted you, like he was licking his plate clean, but that wicked tongue went further. 

It had freaked you out a bit when he first tried it on you, but there was nothing in the world that could compare to Buggy’s tongue sinking all the way into you, that thick muscle tasting parts of you that no one could touch. It circled around inside you on its own until he found that sweet, spongy spot.

His tongue fucked into that spot, and tears streamed from your eyes while you screamed his name through his choking grasp. He didn’t let up as you rode through that orgasm, just released your throat to raise two fingers toward the couch. 

“Gods, oh fuck, Buggy. It’s too mu–”

His hand clamped over your mouth, and he lifted just enough to shake his head, his tongue too busy for him to reply. He released your face, that hand teasing along your body while he kept up his attack, until he pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

The pressure of his tongue ramming against you from the inside meeting his hand felt like being hit by a fucking train. Your hands almost broke free as you spasmed, the sheer force of pleasure turning you into nothing but twitching, desperate flesh while you came on Buggy’s face.

Your vision came back slowly, sweet hands smoothing over your skin. The feel of his tongue sliding out of you to return to its rightful place arched your back, aftershocks rolling through you. 

“Three,” Buggy bragged, leaving kisses on your arm. You hummed, hardly able to open your eyes.

“Ah, but the goal was four,” Mihawk taunted, his voice tensing through Buggy’s body beside you, “and it doesn’t look like Miss Y/N is able to finish the show. What do you think, Crocodile?”

“She knows what’s gonna happen to her,” he growled, and you rolled your head to the side to watch those frightening gray eyes. He looked at you like you were the last bit of food on a desert island, and his hand fisting over himself made your eyes roll back. 

“The show must go on,” Buggy laughed nervously, his well earned confidence already floating away. 

You reached out to him, your arms shaking until he crawled up your body. You returned his little smile, goosebumps rolling over your skin at the feel of him with you, and all he’d done. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered, voice hoarse from him. He looked you over, eyes pouring over your features, until he gave you another smile, wide and wicked. 

“Anything for my star.”

He wasted no time, his thick cock pushing into you easily with all the work he’d done. He let out little whimpers, and you clenched around him, wanting him so fucking bad. But he shook himself, rolling his hips into you as he brought a thumb to dance along your clit. 

“You like putting on a show,” he asked, his voice a bit strained as he fought himself. “I knew you were a star, and you’ve got the audience wrapped around your little finger, huh? Look at how hard their cocks are just for you. Give them a show, baby.”

Buggy’s breathing went rough as he fucked into you harder. He grabbed your cheeks, your lips pressing out as he made you look at them. 

Oh fuck.

Crocodile and Mihawk both had their cocks in their hands, jerking themselves off at the sight of you.

“Buggy, I’m–”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect…”

He held you close as you fell to pieces together. His racing heart, his ragged breaths, and the scent of his skin felt delicious. Even with the twitching of his cock as he spilled his come into you, even with the orgasm that rocked through you, the overwhelming feeling you had in Buggy’s arms was comfort.

“You feeling good, gorgeous,” he asked softly, kissing along your jaw.

“So good,” you hummed, gasping as he twitched inside you, your body clenching around his. 

“Well done, toys,” Mihawk praised as the weight on the bed shifted. “Now, open wide.”

“You looked so pretty for daddy,” Crocodile praised while Mihawk pulled Buggy off of you. “Be a good girl, and tell me where you want it.”

He bit his lower lip while you stared at his veiny cock, so fucking close. 

“My face. Come on my face, daddy, please.”

“Fuck, gods damn,” he groaned with a breathless laugh. “You are such a good girl. Mm, lick the tip for me sweet– fuck.”

You could already feel his come dripping down your skin when you reached out to taste him, his last shuddering moan making him thrust lightly against your mouth. 

“Look at you,” he purred, tracing his thumb over your lips after you licked them clean. 

“Our pets have been very well behaved today,” Mihawk praised, moving close beside the larger man before gesturing toward Buggy’s come-covered face. You let out a giggle, then tried to apologize when he met your eyes. 

“Not the matching face paint I was thinking of, but I’ll take it,” he interrupted with a wink, earning very subtle, but real chuckles from the other men on the bed. 

Crocodile pulled you against his chest, and you realized that in this moment you felt comfort with all three of these bad men. You grinned to yourself at the thought of what home meant to you while you watched Mihawk play with the come that had spilled down to Buggy’s chest. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, pets,” he said brightly, managing to crawl gracefully out of the bed. “We can’t have Adam curling up on these sticky sheets.”

“No cats on the bed,” Crocodile ordered, frowning at your pouting lip. “Don’t you start.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you laughed as you rolled away from him. 

Buggy grabbed your hand, and you laughed your way to the bathroom, leaving the other men to argue about the new furry roommate. Buggy tossed you a washcloth, and you both wiped what you could of those men off of your skin before he started the shower. He pulled you in to press you against the far wall. 

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before…” he whispered, tilting his nose away so he could be closer to your face while the water drowned out his words. “Can I tell you now, pretty star?”

His deep blue eyes seemed deeper than you’d ever seen, and your breath caught in your throat. 

Why am I tense? 

“Okay,” you managed to whisper, waiting to breathe properly again. 

He nodded a few times as he looked down, before cradling your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. 

“I know things are– well you know how it is, but…” he trailed off, scanning your face as if watching every movement. 

“Buggy…”

“I love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his brows lifting high as his breathing seemed heavy, heavier as he waited for you to reply. He stared at your parted lips until more words hurried out of him. “I loved you before, and I still love you now. You’re my pretty star, no matter what, right?”

The worry in his voice broke you out of your stupor, and you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Buggy, I–”

He pulled you under the water, the heat making you gasp as the door to the bathroom opened.

“Here you are, pets. Sir Crocodile’s list of expectations if Adam is to stay with us.”

Mihawk dropped a pad of paper onto the counter, cocking his head at you both while Crocodile followed close behind. 

“Why haven’t you started on that hair? It’s late enough as it is,” Mihawk tutted, and you couldn’t keep your mouth from falling open as you watched Mihawk take Buggy’s long hair into his hands. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut at the swordsman’s touch, but his words kept ringing in your ears, even as Crocodile smiled at you, hunching down to rinse his hair. 

Adam wasn’t allowed in tonight, so it was just the four of you climbing onto that giant bed, four of you pressed in so close. You and Buggy curled in against each other’s chests, with Crocodile around your back, and Mihawk curling around Buggy to lay his long fingers somewhere along your side. 

Tonight Mihawk’s fingers teased along your ribs, his thumb almost tickling as it played down your stomach. Crocodile kissed the back of your head, and your comforting sleeping arrangement was complete. 

Something about the way Buggy held you felt different. 

Is it different? Or did I just not notice it before?

His breathing was slow, and the way he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss should have been comforting. 

You should have fallen asleep by now. 

Instead, you laid there as the three men around you fell asleep. You laid there in the most comfortable, most comforting position you’d ever been in. 

But you couldn’t fall asleep. 

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: BUGGYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! 😭🤡

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl |

Part 15

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[kingtwolf-fang]

Jezebel

Everyone has kept the company of a Jezebel spirited woman in their life. May it have been a lover, a sister, a friend etc. What is a Jezebel spirit you ask? Or who is Jezabel? Webster dictionary says

noun

Also Douay Bible, Jez·a·bel . the wife of Ahab, king of Israel. 1 Kings 16:31.

(often lowercase) a wicked, shameless woman.

I had a Jezabel spirit in my life for the past 9 years. I didn't discover she was a Jezabel until the past two years. Her shameless treatment toward me, or what she has become shamelessness about her actions. However the Jezabel spirit has inspired me to write before. Back in 2015 I wrote a song titled Jezabel however I've given it some re-workings especially now that I have matured in my music and literary writing.

Living in lust betraying the men and women's company you kept trust. A shameless wicked woman casting her spells. May God deal with you accordingly and cast you into deepest part of hell.

Your Jezabel spirit a charade to any mortal man

A siren singing her hypnotizing song with a caressing hand

Shameless diverting in adulterous affairs

A irresistible spirit a man to fight it one would not dare

The Gemini spirit a mistress Jekyll a woman's version of a Dr. Hyde

Tortured souls finally free the day your spirit is crucified

Your sins will be a art gallery all over town

Accompanied with my uneasiness of you playing me like a clown

My tribe and I are ready for your vanquish

Causing my thoughts to be full of anguish

Pre-Chorus (chanting)

Aywa aywa aywa oooooooooo ya (eagle screech sound)

Ja-ja-ja-jayuwa ja-ja-ja-jayuwa

Chorus

Jezabel, jezabel, jezabel

aywa aywa, aywa

The tribe has spoken Jezabel this is your fate

Our ancestors fiery flames await

Na-lusa-chi the great shadow to eat your soul

A memory that will haunt me in my nights sleep

Something any mortal man would not wish to keep

Verse 2

Memories of you fill me with rage. The only cleanse smudging of the red man's sage.

You were cruel watching my spirit burn from the flames of hell.

Your face filled with maniacal emotion knowing these tribulations apart of your spell.

The soul's you've tormented collectively gather a congregation.

Luring good natured men to ruin with a subtle invitation.

Leaving them lay awake at night.

While you are out dancing past the stroke of midnight.

Fraternizing and fornicating with the Afro-Italian like two animals in the wild.

Gate keeping new of your enceinte, you suddenly vanish and hide his child.

Repeat Chorus

Verse 3

Even God doesn't know what to do with you.

His own creation lacks any empathy and virtue.

Behind the concealer, and eye shadow your a fury a dog faced woman from hell.

I have only myself to blame for 10 years of you playing me like a puppet on a string.

Your company is a streak of Friday the 13th with no good fortune to bring.

ELO once said there's an open road that leads no where.

So just make some miles between you and there.

Poisonous red wine you poured it fucked me up.

The tables have turned it's your turn to drink it all up.

Bridge

Remember Lady Karma never loses a address.

When she arrives she will hold up a mirror of all that you refuse to confess.

While you are dancing at the Roosevelt Room.

Lady Karma in her five inch red heels coming to serve you deserved doom.

Me necromanced from the dead thanks to the hands of father time.

Cheating Jezebel's antics a protection spell and it's perfected rhymes.

(Instrumentals for 2 min, and pre-chorus line.)

(Yi-yi-yi-ay-ye- heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

King Ahab your equal as a scorned lover

The holy book kept score of your sins things that can't be kept under cover.

A unsub missive succubus on a full moon sizzling night of summer the jasmines in bloom.

(A evil woman laugh inserted)

Not a nice lady (In a mocking dramatic tone)

[the-infinite-jukebox]

Sematary - Butcher House (Mixtape Review)

Genres: Horrorcore, Experimental Hip-Hop

Being the extremely niche and often extraordinarily graphic subgenre of rap that it is, horrorcore has held a strange place in music nerd culture since its inception. While some classic horrorcore acts like the Gravediggaz have gained legend status and modern projects like Clipping. have upheld the subgenre's quality, there will always be an Insane Clown Posse out there to balance out the ratio of excellency to unenjoyable absurdity in horrorcore. As the incredibly specific genre's fandom expands, acts like Sematary have continued to cook up different and unique takes on intentionally disturbing hip-hop. The aforementioned artist's Rainbow Bridge trilogy of mixtapes may have been well-received, but that doesn't mean that Butcher House is a follow-up of equally warm reception.

Sematary's work as a performer has been inconsistent since his debut several years back. One minute he's a relatively engaging and entertaining voice behind the mic, and the next he's as misguided and purposeless as any uncertain experimentalist can be. The monotonous nature of Sematary's delivery grows old fast and weighs down on the listening experience of Butcher House. Over the course of the past few years, mainstream rap has seen the rise of a particular brand of purposefully flat flows paired with introspective or depressive lyricism. This is just as true for experimental hip-hop as it is the more mainstream side of things. While some can pull this sound off by being exceptionally charismatic, empathetic, or otherwise intriguing, Sematary is none of those things on his latest mixtape. Perhaps the work presented here could have been saved by Sematary himself unleashing his most engaging self. What is found on this mixtape is someone who doesn't seem to have much passion behind the words they've penned. Uninteresting features from the likes of Turnabout and Black Kray don't do the tape any favors. This lack of care seems to translate into the production of the album as well, as a good portion of Butcher House feels cheaply executed. DIY aesthetics and hints of campiness have always been defining qualities of Sematary's music. There is, however, a sense that this wasn't nearly as intentional on Butcher House as it has been on some of his previous mixtapes. Generally speaking, Butcher House has an air of self-seriousness that is respectable in theory yet difficult to appreciate in execution when the musical aesthetics are only a few steps away from a cheesy 80s slasher film. There are moments on this tape so stock sound-adjacent that it's nearly baffling. That isn't to say that horrorcore can't be serious. Countless horror-based emcees have successfully made legitimately intimidating or even moving music. To put it in cinematic terms, Butcher House feels like its trying to be a terrifying version of Citizen Kane when it is in the same division as the likes of Friday the 13th. The issue doesn't come with the creative minds behind Butcher, but rather with the fact that they don't play to their own strengths artistically. Although I have nothing but respect for Sematary sticking with his experimental and incredibly modern style while continuing to build on Chicago-based drill influences, it is all just a bit difficult to take seriously here. In fact, it is unclear just what Butcher House is meant to convey to the listener. Horrorcore may be a very specific niche within rap, but it has many different faces that ensure a variety of distinct artists. Some records attempt to shock the listener, while others try to genuinely insert paranoia into the lives of those experiencing their sounds. Some albums even attempt to terrify the listener with brutal honesty about difficult-to-discuss topics like self-harm. All of these concepts are touched on throughout Butcher House, but none of them are ever expanded upon enough to have any lasting impact. It's clear that Sematary wants Butcher House to stick with its audience considering how often it grabs the listener's attention. Unfortunately, that purpose is lost in a sea of failed attempts at creating something musically striking. Sematary is someone very capable of making a great mixtape. It is obvious that he has found his own sound, his own audience, and his own structure for his releases. What he lacks, however, is consistent performance abilities and any sort of guidance. I have nothing but hope for the Sematary releases to come, as I wholeheartedly believe he can evolve into a musician of fantastic proportions and perhaps even act as a solid representative of modern horrorcore. As it stands, however, it just feels like Sematary doesn't know what to do with a potentially great and often times unique style.

Final Rating: 2/5 (Bad)

[simply-strangers]

"Darling Dear" A Jack Napier x Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Nothin... I just felt like writing fluff

Taglist: @ajokeformur-ray

Fandom: The Dark Knight Trilogy

Who is Jack Napier?: Supposedly the identity of Joker before everything happened. Joker is said to have a military background so it's my assumption his scars were gained through war

Timeline: Before Jack's deployment and scarring

*That was basically all irrelevant as this is just a cutesy thing I wanted to write*

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

"Jack! I'm home!" You called into the apartment. It was small with dim white walls and creaky flooring. It was just about all the two of you could afford.

"Y/N?" You hear Jack's voice echo drowsily from another room. Probably the shared bedroom. Seconds later there's a thump and the sound of stumbling footsteps. Eventually your blonde haired man of a husband reveals himself, sure enough in his pajamas and bleary eyes.

"You look half dead Jacky." You chuckle at him and set down the heavy brown bag of groceries on the open kitchen counter. The light above flickers cautiously. Wouldn't be the first time the landlord cut your power for no reason.

"Feel it too, darling. Oh, and please don't call me Jacky. It's embarrassing, love." Your husband sneaks behind you and wraps his broad arms around your waist, pulling you close and earning a kiss to the cheek from you. This makes him smile faintly.

"Well I let you call me *insert embarrassing nickname* so why can't I call you Jacky?" You ask him pitifully and turn around in his grasp to face him with your hands looping behind his neck.

"Becauuse, my darling dear wife. I will stop calling you that if you don't call me Jacky. Deal?" Jack's mouth twitched along with his head before a smile broadened to reveal the off white color of his surprisingly straight teeth.

"Deal." You sigh dramatically and press a firm kiss to his lips.

"You're beautiful Y/N. Have I ever told you that?" Jack asks teasingly with a soft smile. Those dark pools for eyes of his ensnared yours and you felt your hips begin to sway under his hands.

"You have, and you should say it more often." You smile with a blush creeping on your cheeks.

"I'll tell you it everyday if I have to." Jack rests his forehead to yours and you swear music begins to play somewhere in the world, reaching both your hearts and calling for a dance in the kitchen.

"Promise?" You chuckle at him. Jack's face is serious though, and that smile is fainter. Those eyes darker than you'd seen in ages.

"For all our days my darling dear." He swears and seals the promise with a kiss.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

BONUS: angsty, readers beware

Rain patterned down. It coated the field of battle and one man laid alive. Barely. His face was bandaged over completely from his nose down. A nasty grenade sending shrapnel cutting into his face and tearing the skin to sinew and muscle. Blood stained his uniform collar now. And tears fell from his eyes, soaking his rain watered cheeks and bandages.

He screamed. Screamed behind the white gauze and tape holding it down. The words were forever his undoing.

Dear John Napier,

It is with deep sorrow that we must report to you this tragic news. Mrs. Y/N Napier was a victim of a car accident. She was rushed to the hospital immediately and we regret to inform you she did not survive. Howard Killigan, the man responsible for the accident has been charged with manslaughter and a DUI. He was discovered to have been drunken during his driving. Our condolences Mr. Napier.

Sincerely,

Gotham City Hall

Howard Killigan was found murdered in his cell two months into his sentence, cameras showing a man dressed in a custom purple suit and a frightening clown mask. A message was written that night. Red stained the prison cell walls the words:

"You were always beautiful "

Decorating the stone. A last goodbye to the woman that held together the soon to be: Prince of Gotham Crime.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Hope you enjoyed! Got inspired last minuet for the Angsty bit.

Stay Strange And Stay Safe!

[gojology]

Strawberry Flavored Pocky.

pairing : teen! gojo x gender neutral reader warnings : the big three: unedited, most likely badly written, and some cursing. also there’s like.. graphic imagery that gojo and reader exchange to eachother. it’s just banter though! wordcount : 2273 a/n : for that one anon that wanted teen gojo. my stroke of genius always occurs when im eating strawberry flavored pocky i swear.. anyways yeah this is unfiltered writing n it’s probably like not the best tbh and maybe i didn’t nail teen gojo’s personality but u know what this was so fun to write

     The sound of the tear of the wrapper containing the Pocky you had just bought was music to your ears, crinkling with every touch. Your fingers are itching to grab for the deliciously coated sticks, but you’re stopped by someone none other than Gojo Satoru himself.       “What’d you get?” he inquired, seemingly unbothered by the face you were making, he hadn’t even greeted you with a simple, “Hello.” he sat down on the bench seat right next to you, uninvited.       In his hand were many bags of various sweet treats, you could only make out some familiar ones- ramune flavored gummies, a bag of chips, vibrantly colored candy. Your lips quirk downwards, exhaling, turning to face the setting sun.       “Just some Pocky.” you flatly respond, beginning to pick the biscuit up. Contrary to Gojo’s wide choice of snacks, you only really had one favorite- Pocky. Specifically, Strawberry flavored Pocky. The sweet, yet somewhat tart aftertaste treat dominated your mind almost day and night. It wasn’t everyday that Yaga would be lenient enough to take the four of you to the local convenience store. You were waiting for Shoko and Geto to finish shopping to finally head home for a night of yummy snacking.       Gojo sighs, lazily dropping the treats right next to his side, they sat idly, limply resting on his thigh as he crossed his right leg over his left knee. His hands warmly nestled into his snowy white hair, his elbows jutting into your personal bubble.        “Not one to chat, are you? What’s the problem? You scared?” his tone is teasing, and you jerk your head to face his. Your head is tilted, like your confused, but in reality you’re just astounded how obnoxious he was.       “Why in the world would I be scared of you? You wouldn’t lay a finger on me. Yaga-Senpai would rip your limbs off one by one and fling you into the horizon! And he’s not even that far away, I could report you to him if you even get on my nerves in the slightest.” you shot back, huffing and taking your first bite on the biscuit. You instantly melt.       He flashes you a toothy smile, and you stiffen, did he ever take anything seriously? “Oh my, so riled up. Only scaredy-cats would talk about how not scared they were. Look, you’re even shaking-” he gestures to your just slightly shaking, tightened grip on your Pocky. “-I win, Y/N! Boo hoo, case closed, gimme your Pocky~”        “No, fuck you and your fat ass trying to take my Pocky, I’m not shaking from fear anyways.” you sternly retort, warmth rushing to your cheeks for whatever reason. “I’m shaking because I’m resisting the urge to duct tape your mouth shut and gouge your eyeballs out.”       He chuckles warmly as if your gruesome detailing was humorous, he probably didn’t know you meant it. He too, ripped open one of his snacks. “Calm down, Y/N. I was joking, I could buy Pocky’s whole stock and probably also buy my position up as CEO if I wanted to. I wouldn’t leech off of you, sugar.” readjusting his crooked, circular shades, he looked down at your now slack grip on the wrapper.      Unanswering, you’re grumbling instead. Under your breath, you’re curious as to how Gojo hasn’t realized how obnoxious he was, and how much longer could he survive without his head exploding from how big it was from his inflated ego?      Gojo grinned. He was all too aware of those things, but who really cared?      “Not unless you let your guard down!-” unable to finish the rest of his sentence, he yanked up the wrapper from your hands, using the extent of his long arm to dangle it high above your head. Your reflexes are far too slow to react, causing you to glare at him in a mixture of shock, hatred, and disbelief.      “Give-” you jump, arm reaching towards your snack, but he backs off, snickering and still dangling it above your head. “It-” now you’ve leapt up on the bench, grabbing at the wrapper to no avail. “Back!-” whimpering and flailing your arms out, every time you came close to retrieving your rightfully owned pack of Pocky, he’d simply throw it to his other hand so carelessly it pissed you off. All the while giggling, juggling it like a clown.      A breath of laughter escapes his lips as he looks at you, prancing around like a circus act on the bench, yelling curses and many death-wishes to his clan. Your eyebrows are knitted together, and he can’t just help but realize how adorable you were when concentrated in getting something- so stubborn.    “Okay, okay!” and as if Gojo had flipped a switch, you simmer down, looking at him with an impatient side-eye. “You want it, doggie?”     “Refer to me as doggie, and I’ll send a pack of strays to ravage you.”       Gojo exhaled out of his nose. “You’re a funny one, doggie.” did he just dismiss the conversation you two were having literally 2 seconds prior? “I’ll ask this again, do you want to get your treats back?” his eyes are glinting with amusement and child-like glee. You were almost sure that he had started calling your beloved Pocky as treats because of just how well it suited the nickname Doggie. It looked like you would be getting no where unless you paid no mind to him calling you such a.. Derogatory name.       Grumbling and studying the concrete you were currently trampling on, you exasperatedly sigh.       “Yes. I do want my Pocky back.” you grunt, averting your gaze to anywhere but Gojo’s shoes.       He perks up in approval, drawing out a long, “Hmmm?” as if he hadn’t expected you to give up so easily. “What are the magic words, Y/N?”       This was so humiliating.       “Please?” you politely say through gritted teeth. If it weren’t for the general public bustling about, you would’ve lunged for his unruly hair and tear it out of his scalp.       “Hah! You think I’m gonna do that sorta bullshit?” he crosses his arms, Pocky tucked safely under his arm. You wince, thinking about how the biscuits may potentially be snapped in half. Did you really want your snack still? It probably smelled like Gojo’s armpit sweat, death, and all the bad things in the world combined. “You’re gonna have to earn it, Y/N, in a game.”       Now convinced that Gojo was the manifestation of all the bad karma that you had avoided, you stare at him with wide eyes and fear, the irritation long gone. Games, no, scratch that, literally anything with Gojo only resulted in a small, or maybe large piece of your sanity torn away from you, lost to the infinite dark abyss. Maybe that’s why Geto seemed to slowly go insane everyday.       “On second thought, I’ll just go-”      He cuts you off, alarm now displayed on full view, his face contorting back to neutral. “Wait, no! It won’t be hard. Pinkie promise.” extending a pinkie towards you, you gently slap it away. The mood change was so instant, you were still shocked, that, and he was almost a legal adult and still believed in pinkie promises.      Still hesitant, you quirk an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’d rather spend another two dollars than play whatever game your planning, unless you tell me about it.”      “That’s a given, besides, it won’t take too long, Y/N. I think you’ll like it.” he replies cheerfully, leaning and whisper-yelling into your ear, fruitfully jolting you up. Seriously, did he have any idea what personal space was?      After just a few seconds of thinking, you roll your eyes in defeat. “Okay, what’s this game?”      His incredibly long fingers inserted themselves inside the crinkling wrapper, pulling out a slender stick. You’re almost sure your salivating, and subconsciously swallow the lump at the back of your throat. “Okay, rules of this game are... Hm, we both place our mouths at both ends of the stick. You get the pretzel part because that part sucks.” mischief flickers in his eyes briefly. “Whoever can get down the Pocky longest without being afraid of kissing and pulling back, loses and doesn’t get the Pocky. Whoever stays in their place wins. I’ll throw in some money, deal or no deal?”       “This doesn’t sound.. Fun.” you were still skeptical, but curiosity was blossoming rapidly inside of you. Could you really resist such an intriguing request? The guy was rich, and he did say he’d throw in some money. Gojo probably hated the thought of you, too. You could probably get up and close, get him to cower away from the thought of locking lips with you, and you’d be on your merry way.       “Um, actually, never mind. Let’s do this.” you chirp, the weariness had depleted completely. Besides, Gojo would pester you into doing it anyways, this would effectively save time. The expression on his face was indecipherable, silently wishing to yourself to see his eyes. You wonder if they’re wide open, in shock of your acceptance.       He gently placed the biscuit between your lips, his thumb brushing against it. Your breath hitches, now he’s up close. The shades adorning his handsome features, concealing those vivid blue eyes of his made your heart pace quicken in just seconds, maybe it was because he could see you- and you couldn’t. Your gaze shifts to the tufts of white hair hanging above his forehead. His bangs look lusciously soft, so soft you wonder what it’d be like to ruffle his unruly hair, what did it smell like? What conditioner did he use?     Your cheeks darken, but you hope he doesn’t notice it. This was what people thought of when they saw pretty people up close, it wasn’t like you had a thing for him, he was just attractive, that’s all.      “You look real stupid holding that stick between your teeth and looking at me.” he comments, charmingly smirking as you give him another death glare, unable to speak in fear of dropping the Pocky stick. You could count each individual hair strand he had on top of his head with the amount of time he was taking.      Chomp.     You take the first bite, and you can’t help but realize how much your heart is fluttering about in your chest. Eyelashes fluttering, nerves getting jittery, the exchange was strangely intimate. No kidding, of course it was- if the two of you were adamant and continued to chomp on the stick, it would only end in a kiss. There was no way around it.      He takes a bite too, his lips look curved in a dopey smile, but there’s not a single word traded between the two of you, just tiny, slight nibbles. It would be eons until someone finished, and you were growing impatient by the minute. Quicken the pace. Quicken the fucking pace.     So you did the unthinkable, you quickened the pace.     Taking a large bite, he pauses for a minute- as if to think, before taking an even larger bite. Now, 2/3′s of the original stick is gone. One more large bite, and a kiss would follow suit. Now, you’re sweating bullets, eyes bouncing from him, back down to the microscopic sized Pocky. His lips are so, so close. Soft, plush pink, so glossy you’re inclined to ask what brand of lip gloss he uses. You can hear his breathing grow heavier, why wasn’t he giving up?      The two of you don’t take a single bite, plainly avoiding the objective, the world around you had evaporated into thin air. It’s you, and Gojo Satoru.      You nibbled a little bit more, and then you make up your mind. You’re going to kiss-       Growing chatter grew closer to closer, and you realize Shoko’s monotone and Geto’s lively voice, alongside a very disgruntled Yaga.       “Yeah, she’s pretty hot. I actually liked the movie- Uh...?” the steady rhythm stopped against the concrete. Immediately, you straighten and clear your throat, spitting out the Pocky stick into the nearby grass. Gojo follows suit, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and twirling around. “Oh hey, Geto!-”       “Are we interrupting something? Something.. Important?” Shoko quizzes, struggling to stifle her giggling. A sheepish smile was displayed widely on your face for the world to see, hands behind your back like you were hiding something. Gojo, on the other hand, is facing the other direction, whistling and staring at the now setting sky.       You stutter, cheeks growing even darker. Yaga looks as disgruntled as ever, facepalming and murmuring to himself. Geto looks ecstatic.        “MY MAN!” he beams. “WERE YOU GOING TO-”       “SHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Shoko shushes him in response, turning her head back to the two of you. You looked like you had just seen a ghost. “We thought you hated Gojo, we’re just...” her head is cocked slightly, an understanding expression on her features. “Just surprised, is all.”       Spluttering, you try to explain yourself- but no sound comes out. Your mouth is opening and closing, struggling to find the words.       “I do hate him... I just... He.. Pocky.. He uh...”       “Sheeeeeeeesh! Poor Y/N over here is going through some shock right now!” Gojo muses aloud, he places an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in under his arm. There’s a small, coy grin on his lips. As if he didn’t try kissing you 1 minute ago. “Just ignore them, anyways, what are we having for dinner tonight? I heard there’s a really good KBBQ place down the street that just opened..”      As much as you hate Gojo, his ability to escape anything did come in handy.    Well, maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you were leading on.     You’d go as far as to say.. Maybe you enjoyed some parts of him.      

[thetravelerwrites]

Dr. Mael Halvorg (Part 2)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationship: Male Part Fae/Female Part Fae Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Fae, Naga, Reader Insert, Anthropology, Genetics Content Warnings: Children, Pregnancy, Incubation, Infertility, Birth, Oviposition, Egg-Laying Words:

Commissioned by @ivymemnoch​! The reader and Dr. Halvorg discuss his lingering infertility problem. Amai lays her final clutch of eggs. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“Good morning, class!” You said on the first day.

“Good morning!” Fourteen bright voices responded.

All of the children except for baby Yenu were sitting on their tails behind desks in a room that had been set up as a classroom by the staff.

“So, every day each week we’re going to work on a different subject,” You began. “Mondays are reading and language comprehension, Tuesdays are maths and sciences, Wednesdays are social studies and economics, Thursdays are geography and history, Fridays are fun days with arts, crafting, music, and educational games. Today is Monday, so we’re going to start with reading. You should each have a workbook appropriate to your developmental level in your desks, so please take out your reading workbooks.”

As the children shuffled and searched for the right book, Dr. Halvorg stepped inside the classroom with a clipboard. You raised an eyebrow.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I’m observing the children in a school setting to see how they adapt,” He replied.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And I’m also assuming how I teach, correct?”

He dipped his head sheepishly. “I was curious. And it’s for my research.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Mm.” You turned back to your students and fell into your teacher’s voice. “Keenai, if you would begin reading the first sentence, please?”

Keenai picked up his workbook and started reading. “The small dog lives in a red house.”

“Can you tell me which of these words are verbs?”

“Um…” He looked at the sentence, frowning.

“To remind you, a verb is an action word, something someone does.”

“Uh… lived?” He replied slowly.

“Very good.” You said, and he smiled in relief. “Tani, you’re next. Read the next sentence in your book.”

“The red house was built on a wed… wedeness…”

“Wednesday,” You said. “That’s a hard word, I know. Can you tell me what the noun is in that sentence?”

“House?”

“Good! A noun is a person, a place, or a thing. I’m a noun, you’re a noun, the room we’re in is a noun.”

“Is Nenish a noun?” Jinsa asked.

“Yes.”

“Ha ha, you’re a noun!” Jinsa said, pointing at Nenish.

“So are you!” Nenish interjected.

“Hey, hey! Settle down, please!” You called over them, sitting on the edge of your desk. “Fuma, you next.”

Fuma read from his book, and then Amaia. Next, you went down the line of the four-year-olds, having them read a sentence and find colors, shapes, numbers, or sounds in the sentences. The three-year-olds were next, and they simply read small sentences. You then had the one-year-olds spell and say three-letter words.

Their quick development was normal for nagas, as they tended to age quickly until they hit puberty, when their aging progress slowed to accommodate for yearly hibernation, but it was also startling in conjunction with the developmental levels of similar creatures. You had never studied the advancements of a species’ young so closely before, and you had to admit, it was fascinating. You could see why Dr. Halvorg found it so interesting.

You set the children writing tasks appropriate to their learning level and took a moment to talk to Dr. Halvorg, who was scribbling quickly in a notebook.

“They have computers now that you can write on, you know,” You told him, amused.

He looked up over his glasses at you and quirked an eyebrow. “I am aware of that, thank you. I’m not quite so old-fashioned as I seem, regardless of what Amai might tell you.” He looked back down and continued scribbling. “I’m a chronic note-taker. A bad habit I can’t seem to break, though with my profession, it’s often a strength rather than a weakness.”

“Hmm,” You hummed. “And what do your notes say about my teaching?”

“Adequate,” He replied, still scribbling. “Don’t misunderstand, that’s not a criticism. I hold everyone to an extremely high standard. If you hadn’t met expectations, I would have dismissed you.”

“So I meet your expectations?” You asked sardonically.

“At the moment,” He said, snapping his book closed and standing up. “I still want to observe your other classes before I’m completely satisfied.”

“Hmm,” You said again.

True to his word, Halvorg attended every class that week, observing you interacting with the children. Other than a question or two about your future curriculum, he stayed quiet. At the end of the week, he asked that you submit a weekly progress report until you either found a replacement or were dismissed.

It seemed excessive to you, and you were beginning to wonder if he still saw the children as an experiment. He seemed to care about them, but how much of that was genuine and how much of it was his own self-interest? You were starting to feel leery of and disconcerted by him.

Perhaps he picked up on this, because he seemed to go out of his way to avoid you. He had you direct all of your questions and reports to his assistant and rarely picked up his phone. Any conversations were brief and succinct. He did send you notes on your curriculum, making suggestions for each child. If you weren’t already suspicious of his motives, you might almost have though it sweet.

“I think Halvorg is avoiding me,” You told Amai when the two of you went to lunch together. Now that the two of you could hang out after all the years, you made it a point to set time aside for each other and had lunch at least once a week.

“What makes you say that?” Amai asked, drizzling dressing over her starter salad.

“Ever since he watched me teach classes, he’s barely spoken to me. He seemed excited to exchange research notes when I first arrived, but now he seems to have no interest in speaking to me since he finished observing class.”

“He could just be busy,” Amai suggested. “The four year old’s birthdays are coming up. He always does something special for the kids on their birthdays.”

“Are you concerned that he only sees your children as test subjects?” You asked her. “He seems obsessed with them.”

Amai laughed. “I thought that way in the early days, but he genuinely loves kids. If anything ever happened to me or Yenuno, I’m confident Halvorg would take care of them.” She took a sip of her mineral water. “Are you coming to the kids party? You’re invited, obviously.”

“Will there be clowns? I hate clowns.”

She snorted. “Nothing so gauche. I think Halvorg set up a treasure hunt. The kids always love whatever he plans. Honestly, I know I complain about him, but he does make it easy for me sometimes. I haven’t had to plan any major events since the kids hatched.”

“Hmm… I don’t know. It’s strange to me how involved he is.”

Amai sat back in her seat and eyed you shrewdly. “Did he ever tell you about his son?”

You looked up in surprise. “Son? I thought you said he had no children.”

“He doesn’t… technically.” Amai set her fork down. “You didn’t hear this from me so don’t repeat it, but he had a wife nearly a hundred years ago who cheated on him. He raised a boy, thinking he was his son, but the child was actually fathered by the other man. His wife left him and took the boy with her and he never saw him again. I don’t think he ever got over that.”

“Oh, god,” You replied, horrified. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

“He’s spend the last several decades saving dying races from the brink of extinction. In a way, he thinks of those children he helped bring into the world as his children, too. And every time he has to let them go, it’s like losing his son all over again. I think the fact that he gets to help raise our babies is something of a gift for him. Trust me, it’s not something he takes for granted.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that,” You said in dismay.

“Halvorg is stuffy, strict, and a stickler for protocols, so he can be difficult to read, but I assure you, he loves my children as if they were his own. It may have started as research, but he has a family now and I think that’s what he wanted all along. Try not to judge him to harshly.”

You conceded with a nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The following Saturday, you attended the kids birthday party as requested. The kids were excited and zooming around the receiving area, shrieking and laughing, all of them wearing party hats and nothing else. Amaia was piggy-backing on Dr. Halvorg, her tail wrapped around his waist for stability and her arms hugged around his neck. Dr. Halvorg walked around completely normally, as if this was a typical action and he was used to it. He watched the children playing with a wide, fond grin on his face.

You walked over to Amai and Yenuno, who were watching from the refreshments table with Yenu, feeding her crackers.

“Nothing like a little bit of chaos in the morning,” You said.

They laughed.

“You’ve never seen them after a group kill,” Yenuno said. “They’re uncontrollable after they’ve taken down an elk together. It’s pretty incredible to watch for me, personally. Nagas in the wild typically don’t work together and they especially don’t hunt together, not even siblings.”

“They are very close and friendly, for nagas,” You remarked. “Markedly different to most snake-related species I’ve met.”

“It’s Amai’s blood and influence that’s doing it, I’m sure,” Yenuno said, kissing his wife’s cheek. “She’s the most friendly and cheerful person I’ve ever met.”

“To be fair, sweetie, you haven’t met all that many people,” Amai said, laughing.

“That is fair,” Yenuno conceded. “My point stands, though.”

“Alright children, gather ‘round!” Halvorg called, and they flocked to him, swirling around him like a whirlpool. “Now, you guys are going to split up into teams to help Nenish, Tahara, and Sadji find their gifts. Nenish will have Tani, Jinsa, and Keenai on his team. Tahara will have Amaia, Osan, Ishni, and Dashu on his team. And Khuzho, Chidil, Fuma, and Itheti will be on Sadji’s team.” He handed a small leaflet to each team. “Follow the clues to find the treasures! Go!”

The kids scattered, giggling madly.

“Come get something to drink and rest for a minute, Halvorg!” Yenuno called. “I think you’ve earned it.”

Halvorg grinned boyishly, an expression that brightened his face and made him look… well… rather handsome. He jogged over to the table and had a ginger ale. Elves have hypermobile ears, and his ears were high and wiggling slightly, a normal indication in elvish peoples of happiness and excitement.

“I think they’ll really enjoy their gifts this year,” Halvorg said, taking sips of his soda. “And the treasure hunt is half the fun. It’s challenging, but not too difficult. If they work together, it should be no trouble at all.”

“You didn’t get them history books like last year, did you?” Amai asked with her eyes narrowed. “You might as well have burned the money you spent on those for all the use they got out of them.”

“No, I learned my lesson,” He said defensively. “I bought toys.”

“Educational toys?” Amaia asked shrewdly.

He stopped mid-sip and looked at Amaia with an eyebrow raised. “…maybe,” He said into his cup.

Amaia rolled her eyes. “At least Yenuno and I ordered some stuff the kids will like.”

“You don’t know that they won’t like them,” I said. “I loved educational toys.”

“Yeah, but you’re a nerd,” Amaia said, poking you playfully.

“So what? Your kids could be nerds, too. I’m pretty sure Osan is going to be a Star Wars fan. He’s been talking my ear off about the Mandalorian.”

“It’s so strange,” Amaia said, ignoring your response and looking off in the distance. “I thought that because the kids were hatched in clutches, they would be like twins or triples or the like and have similar interests and personalities, but they’re all so different. Different likes, different traits, different styles. It’s amazing.”

“It amazes me, too,” Yenuno said, staring into his drink with a wistful expression. “My siblings and I separated when we were young, so I don’t know what they were like or if we had similar interests. Honestly, until recently, I never gave them a thought. Watching my children work together… it makes me wonder what my own siblings were like, and if they’d still be alive today if we had helped each other.”

There was a contemplative silence for a few minutes, broken by excited voices reentering the receiving area.

“We found it!” Tahara said, holding up a wrapped gift. The other four were carrying smaller treat bags that had their names written on them. “Uncle Maël, look!”

“Excellent! Well done!” Halvorg said, bending to give Tahara a hug. “Now, let’s wait until your brothers return with their gifts before we open them, okay? How about you five play tag until then?”

“Okay!” Tahara said.

“I’ll play with you,” Yenuno said. “I’m starting to get fat, preparing for the incubation period.” He patted Amai’s belly, which carried his three eggs, likely to be the last clutch they’d have together.

“How soon?” You asked Amai as Yenuno took off to chase with his children.

“Any day,” Amai said with a weary sigh. “And I’m ready for it. These little guys are heavy.”

“Boys or girls?”

“We won’t know until they hatch. It’s too hard to get a clear picture with the ultrasound, and besides, even if it could, both the male and female genitalia are internal, so it’s nearly impossible to tell.” She took a sip of ginger ale. “We’re really hoping for at least one girl. Don’t get me wrong, we love the boys more than anything, but we’d like Amaia and Yenu to have some sisters.”

“I’d like to be present for the laying, if that’s okay,” You said.

“For your research?” She asked.

Your head rocked back. “No, because you’re my friend and I want to be there for you.”

Amai smiled fondly. “Oh. Of course, thank you.”

Dr. Halvorg had not added anything to the conversation with you and Amai, and instead went to the table and made a plate of snacks. You gave Amai a look and a cocked eyebrow, and she nodded understanding, slipping away from her spot to watch her husband and children play.

“Dr. Halvorg?”

He flinched and looked up, glancing around furtively and noticing that the two of you were alone. “Yes?”

“Why are you avoiding me?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again before responding, “I’m doing no such thing.”

“I’ve requested at least three meetings with you this past month, and you’re always too busy,” You said dryly.

“Well, I am,” He said, turning. “If you’ll excuse me…”

“Are you avoiding me because I asked you out?” You asked bluntly.

He missed a step in his stride and stopped.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have realized from your professional demeanor that you wouldn’t be open to interoffice dating. I apologize.”

Halvorg sighed and turned to face you. “It’s not that. Not exactly, I mean.” He set his plate on the table and looked you full in the face for the first time in weeks. “I haven’t given a thought to dating in…” He rubbed his forehead. “Gods… decades. The question took me off guard, of course, and I actually had to sit down and give it some thought. I’ve been wrapped up in my work, of course, but I think I was just distracting myself.”

“From what?”

He sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “It’s hard to talk about. I don’t even really talk about it with Yenuno, and I would consider him my closest friend.” He sighed heavily and avoided your eye. “I’ve ignored my personal life in favor of spending my career and fortune in this century helping races achieve something I want for myself.”

“Children?” You guessed.

He nodded a little morosely. “Not just that, but that is a significant part of it. I’ve been following the reproduction rates of Celtic fae since the fae were originally integrated and it’s decreasing year by year. I live in constant fear that my own race will be extinct in my lifetime.” He quirked his head at you. “Your race still seems to be fairly prolific, is that correct?”

“Oh yeah, I have a bunch of brothers and a truckload of cousins. No problems there.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what the problem with my race is. I’ve studied genetic traits, magical impediments, marriage and divorce rates, and ratio of coupling to conceptions.The numbers are terrible and I don’t know why. That’s what drives me crazy. I hate not having an answer.”

“Have there been miscarriages?”

“No, that’s the crazy thing, the rate of conception is extraordinarily low. I think there have only been three live births of Celtic fae blood in the last year.”

“Oh, jeez,” You said, sitting against the table next to him. “I didn’t realize the problem was that severe. Have you considered whether it might be a physical problem?”

“How do you mean?”

“Have you ever done a sperm count? Or had an MRI of the area to see if there’s a blockage? That kind of thing can be genetic and men tend to be shy about stuff like that.”

He tilted his head and frowned. “No, I haven’t. It actually hadn’t occurred to me. Honestly, I’ve been so focused on my work to distract myself, it may have worked too well and I ignored such things.” He looked at you and smiled. “You’ve given me something to think about.”

You smiled back. “Good. I wonder if the females of the race have a similar issue. It may have been something bred into the people over time, over centuries.”

“That’s possible,” He said. “There’s certainly a precedent; some creatures have been bred to extinction. Remember the pug?”

“That tiny dog breed with the squashed face?” You said. “Yeah, they died out a while ago, didn’t they?”

He nodded. “That was human interference, though. Yenuno’s people were dying out due to antisocialism; too reclusive to even propagate their own species. Yenuno was the only one of his kind to take up this project, and even he was reluctant.”

“He seems happy now,” You remarked.

“Yeah,” Halvorg said softly, watching Yenuno laughing and chasing his kids with a sad kind of jealousy. “He does.”

You watched his face, the deep, deep sadness creasing his face and making him look older than he was.

“Follow up, Halvorg, see a specialist. This may have a fix that didn’t exist the last time you tried.”

He nodded, smiling at you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I will.”

As you stood up, you bumped his shoulder lightly. “Thank you for talking to me. I appreciate that you trusted me enough to discuss such a sensitive subject. I get the feeling that you don’t share yourself with many people.”

He laughed. “No, not really.” He looked up with a smile that seemed more sincere. “Thank you for listening.”

Amai went into labor three days later. She was taken to the laying room, where both Yenuno and Dr. Halvorg were present in addition to the interspecies OBGYN. You were suited up in scrubs and the paper gowns that surgeons wear, as was everyone else in the room besides Amai, who was completely naked, and Yenuno, who never wore clothing. There were natal heart monitors on her belly and an EKG hooked up to her chest.

Amai was sitting on a specially designed chair that would allow her to pass the eggs through her birth canal and into the waiting arms of the doctor. She was already sweating and panting by the time you arrived. The OBGYN and Dr. Halvorg were having a quiet conversation. You went to the other side of Amai and took her hand, trying not to wince when she nearly crushed your fingers.

“Is she okay?” You asked in alarm.

“She’s not fully dilated yet,” Halvorg said, pulling his braid into a surgical cap. “The eggs are getting impatient, it seems.”

“Yeah, well, so am I, so they can settle the fuck down!” Amai shrieked at him.

He bore the abuse with no reaction other than a wry smile. Yenuno wisely said nothing and simply wiped Amai’s forehead with a cloth.

“It won’t be long,” the OBGYN said. “She’s almost there.”

“Just saw me open and get them out,” Amai moaned. “It would hurt less.”

Yenuno tried to kiss her cheek, but she swatted him away weakly.

“No,” She said peevishly. “No touching ever again.”

“You said that last time,” He said, smiling fondly.

“Yeah, but I mean it this time,” She said sulkily.

“Of course you do, darling.” He patted her head. She scrunched her face up at him in annoyance. She was always adorable when she was miffed.

“I’ll make you into shoes,” She said sourly. “And a matching purse.”

It took a while for Amai to dilate fully, and by then she was very tired. Yenuno was looking worried; she’d laid several eggs over the years and never struggled this much before. Perhaps this being their last clutch was a good idea.

“Okay, I think we can start pushing now,” The doctor said, getting ready to catch the eggs. “Amai, when you feel the next contract, hold your breath, bear down, and push.”

“Okay,” She breathed. “One’s coming.”

We all braced for the push. Amai took several quick deep breaths and held it, her face pulled tight in pain and effort, doubling over in the chair as she did. You and Yenuno held her hands and patted her back and murmured encouragement. Halvorg was waiting with a soft cloth to take the eggs for cleaning, after which they would be laid in a specialized incubating carrier to be taken to Yenuno’s cottage.

The first egg came slowly and with much screaming. The doctor caught it and handed it off to Halvorg. The shell of the egg was soft and needed extremely delicate care, but Halvorg was well practiced by now and got the egg washed and into the carrier under ninety seconds and returned for the next.

The second egg came more quickly, but Amai screamed the whole time. By the time the third and final egg was laid, her voice was raw and she was too exhausted to scream.

But it was over. She fell back into the recline of the chair as if boneless and breathed in shallowly, her eyes barely open.

“You were amazing, darling,” Yenuno said gently, kissing Amai’s face. “Rest. I’m taking the eggs to the cottage. The children will visit you when you’ve slept.”

She turned her head slowly to look at him and touched her fingertips to his face, tracing down his cheek, chin, neck and chest before letting her hand fall back to her side, and her eyes closed. Nurses came to whisk her away to a recovery room, the OBGYN following behind. Yenuno and Halvorg left to take the eggs to the cottage for the incubation, and you were left alone in the laying room.

As you were shedding the paper gown and surgical cap, you noticed a small book lying on the ground. It looked to be one of Halvorg’s research journals, though it was smaller than his usual ones. He must have dropped it out of his back pocket when he was disrobing. You picked it up and took it with you with the intent on returning it to him in the morning.

And of course, you’d completely forgotten by the time you woke up.

Amai recovered enough in a few days to be up and walking around. She and the children took turns keeping Yenuno company, as he grew morose if he was left alone too long. You had declared half days until the new babies hatched so that they could have more time with their dad.

One afternoon, after the children had left class for the day, Dr. Halvorg came in and sat on the edge of your desk.

“Hello,” You said pleasantly, closing the folder with their latest work for grading. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I wanted to let you know I took you up on your advice,” He said, looking a little bashful. “I went and saw a specialist. They’re going to be doing some tests soon. Sperm count, blood tests, an MRI. Any test that can be done will be done.”

“Good!” You said, swinging your chair around. “I’m glad. Maybe you’ll finally get an answer.”

He sighed, looking pensive and anxious. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but I still wanted to thank you for pushing me to do it.”

“I didn’t push you to do it, Maël,” You said. His eyes narrowed at your use of his first name, but he didn’t say anything. “I just brought the subject up. It was your decision to do it.”

“Well, thank you all the same,” He replied. “I admit, I’m nervous about it. I could either get wonderful news or have my worst fears confirmed. I don’t know how I’ll react to either option.”

“Would you like me to come with you?” You asked him.

He looked at you in surprise. “You… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t,” You replied. “But this is the kind of thing you need friends for. And since Yenuno is tied up with the eggs, I could be a good substitute. You don’t even have to think of me as a friend, if you don’t want to, just an emotional support associate.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I think of you as a friend.”

“Well, thank you. I was hoping we’d get there eventually. So? What do you think? Want some support for this?”

“Not for the tests, I can do those by myself perfectly well,” He said, adjusting his tie nervously. “But… for the results… perhaps… a friend would be nice.”

“I’ll be there for you, then,” You said, standing and patting his arm. “Does Yenuno know about this? Have you talked to him about it?”

“No,” He replied. “I didn’t want to tell him while he’s dealing with his own new babies. Besides, if the news is not good, I don’t want people feeling sorry for me. If the news comes back positive… I don’t know… I think this is one thing I’d rather keep to myself.”

“Except for me, you mean,” You said.

He nodded concedingly. “Besides you.”

“Let me know when the results come back and I’ll go with you. We’ll make a day of it, go to a spa, get a bikini wax together, eat some overpriced salads, buy something ridiculous we want but don’t need. It’ll be a blast.”

He actually laughed a little. “Sounds like a plan.”

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[cordelialevy]

{ana de armas, thirty-six, cis woman, she/her} || cordelia levy is a mutant with the ability of zoolingualism. they’ve been in new york for one year where they spend most of their time as a guidance counsellor at xavier’s. when i think of them, i think of the soft purrs of the lions she trained, the faint sound of circus music playing while she studies in the back room, scars littering her skin that tell so many stories, a friendly face to lend an ear. they are affiliated with the xavier institute.

ARC ONE FINALE RECAP!

BASICS;

full name: cordelia erin levy nicknames: cordy, delia gender: female female birthdate: september 27th species: mutant  affiliation: xavier institute 

PERSONALITY;

alignment: lawful good zodiac: libra mbti: esfj positive traits: peacemaker, intelligent, social, good intentions negative traits: indecisive, vindictive, people pleaser, noncommittal

ABILITIES;

title: zoolingualism category: mental power/sound power definition: the power to talk to animal life forms and understand their reactions. limitations: cordelia’s power doesn’t give her control over animals. unless one is multilingual, there may be a chance it won't work if the animal is "speaking" in another language.

BACKSTORY;

cordelia was born into a circus family, meaning they were constantly travelling. she was born on the side of the road, somewhere near virginia. 

she was born to a mutant mother, and human father. her mother had the ability of quill protrusion. the manager of the circus dubbed her ‘the human porcupine’. 

cordelia had a fun childhood. she grew up seeing the world, being home schooled to the best of her parents ability, and having the biggest extended family imaginable. 

everything was pretty normal up until her mother was killed by mutant hunters. cordelia was 14 when it happened. she was shot by someone sitting in the back of the crowd one night during her act. 

her mother’s death changed her. she became withdrawn and wouldn’t speak to anyone. not even her father.

during her mourning period, cordelia spent a lot of her time with the animals that belonged to the circus. she’d sit and talk to the lion for hours. sometimes she was convinced he was talking back to her, but she put it down to her imagination running wild.

at the age of 16, the circus introduced an elephant. cordelia almost had a heart attack when it asked her if she had any peanuts, then proceeded to hold a conversation with her when she offered it some. 

after chatting with the other mutants at the circus, cordelia realised she had the ability to communicate with animals. to the human eye, she looked like a normal, boring person. but inside, she was a mutant.

after learning about her ability, the manager hired cordelia as the animal trainer. she had such a unique bond with them, and they trusted her. in return, she trusted them, too. she even slept with the lion at night, so he didn’t have to be caged.

[insert best friend.mp3 by saweetie & doja] jess and cordelia were at the same circus. loved each other until the circus sent jess away. cordelia didn’t want her to go but alas!!!

continued to work at the circus until her father passed away from a sudden heart attack. she was around 25 at the time.

cordelia moved to paris to study, wanting to get away from everything. she earned her masters degree in counselling. she worked in a high school over there until she heard the truth about essex house.

came to new york in search of jess. bagged herself a sweet job as the guidance counsellor at xavier’s in the process. 

still talking to animals and looking like a lunatic, but hasn’t had her reunion with clown girl... yet. </3 the pigeons at the park are clearly keeping secrets!

[dreamescapeswriting]

One Summer In Paris ~ The Fair ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 4.7 K 

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers, 

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS||  NEXT

The cup in your hands was starting to burn the palm of your hand but you didn't care it was the only thing making you stay in place while your daughter and Jungkook were cooking together. It was a sight you never thought you would see, watching them together was so odd to you right now. Jungkook had come around early that morning as he promised and he was making everyone breakfast, the way he used to when he stayed over here that summer you spent together. Memories of eating out on the balcony came flooding back to you, being dressed in nothing but one of his oversized t-shirts whole he walked around in nothing but a pair of shorts.

"Mum look!" A plate was placed down in front of you with Minnie Mouse pancakes with blueberries for eyes making you snap away from your daydream. 

"Thanks," You whispered slowly putting down the mug of hot chocolate and looking at your daughter who couldn't help but smile at you with how happy she was. The night before she'd done nothing but go on about how happy Jungkook made her when he'd only been around for a short period of time. 

"Daddy made them," Jungkook looked over his shoulder to glance at you and you thanked him for it by sending him a small smile. The two of you hadn't spoken about what this all meant with his daughter, if he would be seeing her more often or if you could even risk that. The thought of your daughter's life being public scared you too much. Taking a knife and fork you started to eat the pancake while trying to avoid looking at Jungkook it felt weird to have him standing there after all this time. Whenever you did catch a glance at him it just made you feel like you were in some kind of parallel universe where he'd known about the pregnancy and decided to stick around.

"Are we allowed to go on all of the rides?!" Areum asked excitedly as she ate her pancake, you hummed sipping on the drink you had in your hand. 

"Of course, I'm sure your dad won't mind riding on some of them with you." You were deathly afraid of heights so there was no way you would have been able to go on many of them alone with her. One of the reasons you hadn't taken her to one was because you didn't want to be the killjoy by not making her go on the big rides. 

"I'd love to, maybe we can force your mum to get onto some of the rides." Jungkook winked at you sitting down next to you and smirking as he reached forward to grab the syrup at the same time as you and your hands touched. A jolt ran up your hand so you pulled away and acted as though nothing had happened as though you hadn't felt anything. Areum smiled at you watching as got up from the table to go and clean the kitchen pretending you weren't just trying to get away from Jungkook. 

"Mum hasn't been on any rides except the small ones," Areum told him as she shoved some of the pancakes into her mouth. The conversation of how to be a lady at the dinner table going out of her mind in an instant, Jungkook chuckled leaning down to whisper to her but you could still hear him speaking to her, 

"I bet I can get her into the Ferris wheel," With a small wink at your daughter he went back to his breakfast while you stared down into the bubbles trying to stop your mind from going to the place it shouldn't. It felt normal to have him there at the breakfast table even though it wasn't an everyday occurrence. 

"She won't, she's scared of them." Your hands gripped onto the plate under the water as you began to wash it trying to distract yourself from the conversation they way having.  

"Not if I'm up there with her," The plate slipped from your hand and into the water causing water to splash everywhere, Jungkook looked at you and you washed it quickly clearing your throat as you turned to your daughter. 

"Going to shower, watch Areum." You mumbled making your way out of the room quickly so you wouldn't have to listen to this conversation for much longer, it was too much to hear right now. Jungkook was probably just trying to be playful with his little girl but all you could picture was the time you were on the Ferris wheel together. 

"The candyfloss is a bad idea," You laughed watching as Jungkook bought Areum a bag of cotton candy and handed it to her, she began ripping the bag open to get into it.

"No, it's not! It's mine!" You stared at her as she yelled at both of you excitedly jumping up and down on the spot as she tried to eat it as quickly as possible. The thought of your daughter hyped up on too much sugar sent a shiver down your spine. 

"If she gets hyper you're staying overnight to watch her." You teased him pushing him softly as he rushed over to pick Areum up and throw her over his shoulder, you'd only just gotten to the funfair and you were already having more fun now than you'd had in the last four years of Jungkook being gone. You'd never seen Areum smile so much and you hadn't felt this happy in such a long time, your cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. For a moment it felt nice to just forget about the fact that Jungkook hadn't been around and that he'd been here the whole time.

"What shall we go on first? The Carousel?" You asked her as you rushed over to get next to her and Jungkook trying to keep up with them since they were both so quick. Jungkook was wearing a baseball cap with some sunglasses to hide most of his face since neither of you wanted to be surrounded by fans. He was also wearing a large jacket to hide his tattoos but his hands were still on display, luckily everyone was too busy paying attention to their own fun times to notice his hands. 

"The carousel, I wanna ride the horses!" Areum yelled as the sugar began to take over her body, Jungkook chuckled putting her back down onto the floor where she linked hands with both of you and began swinging them back and forth until you got to the line.

"I want the one that pulls the carriage, you and dad can sit together while I ride! It'll be like a fairytale." You nodded at her bending down to her level and straightening her top she was wearing a white Disney princess shirt with a pair of jeans that she'd picked out. 

"Okay baby but remember the rules, you have to wait for us to get off the ride with you, alright?" She nodded along with you promising you that she would abide by the rules you always made when you went out together. It was just so she didn't get lost or taken while you were out together.

A teenage girl frowned staring at Jungkook as she stood across the line from the carousel, she didn't think it was him just that it was a weird lookalike.

"What?" Her friend questioned turning to see what she was looking at but the girl shook her head thinking it was just the trick of the light or something. 

"That guy...doesn't he look like Jungkook? They say there are always five people in the world that look like you..." She couldn't tell much because of the shades and the hat but it looked an awful lot like him, she took out her phone and went onto Weverse to try and see if she could tell it was him.

"He put out this morning that he and Namjoon and fishing, see..." They stared down at the selfie of Namjoon and Jungkook together out on a lake fishing together, but the girl took a photo of the man that looked an awful lot like Jungkook and began tweeting it out to her friends to see if they thought he looked like Jungkook as well.

The day continued on and all of you were going on the small rides trying to avoid the larger ones for as long as possible but Areum was making her way towards the Ferris Wheel. 

"What about getting dad to win you a teddy?" You questioned as you looked at Areum, she turned to look at the shooting game that was in front of you. The aim of the game was to get ten clown faces down within a certain amount of time.

"I want the pink bunny, daddy, come on," Areum whispered tugging on Jungkook's sleeve as you walked over to the stall, paying the man behind the counter for one round. The fake guns were filled with some stones that would hit the moving clowns and potentially knock them down if Jungkook was any good at the game. If he was anything like you remembered he would be good at everything he put his mind to. 

"Let's get it," He chuckled as Areum stood in your arms, both of you watching him closely as you waited for him to start shooting the clowns.

He missed all of them but two and groaned as he looked down at the pouting Areum, she wasn't spoilt but she was just upset her dad couldn't do it. 

"Let me go," You challenge letting Areum go stand with Jungkook as you paid for another round. Aiming the gun at the bottom row and started to shot as soon as the music began to play. The usual carnival music that played over and over again but you did it, hitting all ten clowns and being able to win two teddies. 

"Pick one baby," You whispered to Areum who asked for the small pink rabbit she'd had her eye on in the start. 

"Your turn to pick," You winked at Jungkook as you laughed softly, he had his bottom lip out shaking his head at you. 

"My turn," He challenged clicking his neck as if that was going to help him on winning the next round. 

The games continued on until Jungkook finally won a round of the game and could give both you and Areum a stuffed animal. You thought that it was sweet that he was trying to impress Areum but if you'd been paying attention you would have noticed it was the both of you he was trying to impress. 

"You're scared?" Jungkook questioned as he looked at you, you were next in line to get into one of the carriages for the Ferris Wheel they'd both convinced you it wouldn't be the same without you there.

"I'm scared of heights, you know that." You whined at him as Areum rushed over to the Ferris Wheel, it was one of the ones that were like small glass cages. The ride would stop whenever someone got to the top giving them some time to look around at the scenery which was even more terrifying to you. 

"I know, I remember getting you to go to the top of the Effiel Tower with me. But you did it...We're right here for you," His hand entangled with yours naturally and the same jolt you felt that morning was back only this time you didn't pull away from him. You squeezed his hand as a silent thank you and stepped into the ride with him and Areum. She sat across from you so she could have a seat for herself and her stuffed animals she'd gotten. A pink rabbit and then a large blue turtle that Jungkook had won for her. 

"Hold on Areum," Jungkook said as the ride began to move, you gasped out as you inched closer to him. The ride wasn't even that high yet and you were already trying not to panic about the thought of being that high from the ground.

Your carriage was the second from the top but you couldn't help but look around, Areum was sitting on the seat with her back to you and Jungkook as she stared at all of the people below you. Looking at the lights she could see around the city, 

"I wonder if we'll see the Effiel Tower!" She yelled out as she continued to stare around, you on the other hand were clutching onto Jungkook for dear life. Your hands were tangled in his shirt as you held onto him tightly while looking around, 

"Focus on the lights and your breathing," He whispered in your ear, his lips coming into contact with your skin making it harder to breathe and focus on what he was saying to you. 

"Breathe in Y/n..." He urged you as he took your hand out of his shirt and held onto it tightly, squeezing it softly as you stared into his eyes taking in a deep breath before exhaling when he told you to. As you let your breath of the Ferris Wheel began to move and you were at the top, right across from you was the Effiel tower. Areum let out an excited squeal as she just stared it from her seat, watching it with loved filled eyes. It was one of her favourite places to go and visit.

"She really loves it here," He whispered happily as he continued to stare at his daughter, you looked up at him as you realised just how happy he was. You could see it written across his face and the look in his eyes. He looked like he did the first time he got you onto a Ferris wheel. 

"I told you it would be fine," He chuckled as you reached the top of the Ferris Wheel, his hands clutching onto yours as he tried to convince you to open your eyes but there was no way. If you opened your eyes you knew for a fact you would pass out and never be able to do anything like this again, 

"If you open your eyes I'll win you another teddy," He whispered trying to convince you but nothing on this planet or the next would be able to get you to open your eyes. 

"I'll give you anything you want," He urged but you continued to keep your eyes screwed shut. Jungkook smirked to himself as he leant closer to you, his breath catching on your face as he inched closer and closer until your lips finally touched. Taking in a deep breath through your nose you smiled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck as he finally kissed you for the first time all night. He wrapped his arms around your waist as he pulled you closer to him on the seat, reaching up to cup your face as he pulled away. Your eyes flickered open as you stared into his giant doe-like eyes, 

"See I told you the view would be worth it if you opened your eyes," But neither of you were looking around at the view from the Ferris Wheel you were staring at one another as the giant machine began to move again.

As second dates go it was one of the best you'd ever had but sitting up here with him brought it all back to you and to him too. There wasn't a day that went by, back home when he didn't think of you and what you were doing. You were like a record that constantly played over and over in his mind.

"What?" He chuckled when he caught you staring at him. His heart thumped as he locked eyes with you. A part of you wanted to reach up and kiss him like how you had in the memory but another part of you knew it would be wrong. You were seeing someone else and Areum was right in front of you if she was to see you kissing her father it could send all of the wrong kind of message. 

"Nothing I was just trying to concentrate on my breathing." You lied turning to look at Areum who was now speaking to her stuffed animals in French. Trying to teach them the days of the week as you tried to get your mind out of the kiss.

It was pitch black outside by now, after the Ferris wheel both Jungkook and Areum had been able to convince you to go on a few more "Scary" rides that weren't scary at all. Just the thought of the heights was crawling into your mind. Then there was the one you'd just gotten off of. It was a small "horror" ride where you sat in a boat and went around being scared by different things. It hadn't scared either of them but somehow it had managed to make you jump out of your skin no matter what happened.

"You're evil, did you know that?" You looked behind you to see Jungkook cradling Areum who was sound asleep in his arms holding onto the stuffed animals both of you had won for her. You shook your head as Jungkook started laughing. 

"You never used to be scared of everything! We used to watch horror movies all of the time." He laughed as he dumped some rubbish into a nearby bin, 

"Newsflash, I only watched those movies so I could cuddle up to you!" You yelled playfully as you stared at your sleeping daughter, you grew worried as you realised he would have to carry her all the way back to the shop like this.

"Do you want me to get a cab?" You whispered standing beside him and looking down at her as she snored in her sleep squeezing onto the toys tightly as you went to take them away. 

"No, it's okay. I'll carry her." He laughed softly shifting her so she was laid comfortable in his arms and you smiled moving some of the hair from her face just staring down at her. 

"She looks like you when you used to fall asleep like this on me, it's quite cute." He chuckled walking across the road with you as you headed in the direction towards the shop, you ignored the cute comment as you walked in silence. It was a comfortable silence between you both as you enjoyed the sounds of the city.

Areum was laid in her bed while you made Jungkook some Hot chocolates downstairs in the shop so you could talk about Areum where she couldn't wake up and hear you. The adults needed their space to talk about things now. Jungkook started with the hardest subject on his mind,

"So about David," You rolled your eyes sliding Jungkook his drink and going over to the register to check the delivery for tomorrow flicking through the clipboard as you tried to brush off his comment. 

"What about him?" You questioned not really wanting to talk about it but you knew the subject wasn't going to get dropped any time soon, Jungkook wanted to know who was going to be around his daughter. 

"Do you love him?" You looked at the piece of paper in your hand pretending to read it while you stalled trying to think of something to say in response to that. Jungkook stared at you as he thought of how to bring up something about David, there was no easier way to put it than the simple version,

"I don't like him." He told you as he sipped on his drink you slammed the clipboard down onto the counter as you snapped angrily at Jungkook, 

"And I care why?" You had no idea where the anger was coming from, you had no reason to be this angry over a comment made about David.

"I don't want him around my daughter, there's something about him Y/n-" You shook your head at him while you scoffed as if he'd been around long enough to come up with some kind of conclusion on the man you were dating. 

"You've not even been back five minutes and you're already barking orders at me about your daughter. We made it four years without you Jungkook, I'm sure I can go the rest of her life." You stormed out from behind the counter and made your way over to the door of the shop opening it for him, 

"I want you to leave, I didn't invite you here to dictate what happens in her life or mine," You couldn't look at him as you told him all of this.

"I didn't know she was alive until now I think I have a reason to decide who comes in and out of her life. She's not a train station who needs people walking in and out all of the time!" The anger inside of him was starting to show as he stood up, turning red in the face as he began to raise his voice at you like you were to him.

"In and out? You make me sound like I'm sleeping around!" You yelled but he scoffed at the statement going back to something Areum had said about David staying over sometimes. You shut the door as soon as he scoffed at you wanting to know what else he had to say. 

"She already knows he stays the nights! He knows how to make her breakfast, a shitty one at that," David reached the door watching you both for a second to see what was going on. It seemed as thought Jungkook was nitpicking at reasons as to why David shouldn't be around but there was honestly something he didn't like.

"There's something about him Y/n, I don't like it." You stared at him waiting for some kind of reason to come out of him, Jungkook had always had a thing for this sort of stuff though and you knew that. His gut was something you always could follow. You'd relied on it before and it turned out to be true but that didn't mean it was right now....Right? 

"Jungkook-" You tried to tell him you could talk it over but the door banged open and David was standing there turning red in the face with anger as he stared at Jungkook.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! Coming around here and barking orders at Y/n?!" You span around trying to get David to calm down but he began pushing past you to get to Jungkook who only kept antagonising him by pulling faces at him or scoffing at the fact that you could push him away.

"David please, there's no need for this!" You yelled pushing him a little too hard that he knocked into the counter behind him. As you went to go over and tell Jungkook to go upstairs David scoffed at the way you were handling things,

"I can't believe you're siding with some- With some fucking loser who left you when you were pregnant!" You froze in place as he called Jungkook a loser, you'd never been a violent person but as soon as someone disrespected Jungkook you wanted to flip your shit. That was the father of our daughter if he was disrespecting Jungkook who was in some kind of way disrespecting Areum and you couldn't stand for either of those things. Turning on your heels to face David you went to say something when Jungkook moved past you to get closer and threw the first punch at David. Hitting him in the jaw and knocking his face to the side as he grunted loudly before getting the next insult ready. 

"You're a fucking loser, imagine getting a girl pregnant and leaving her," Jungkook threw another punch at David in the nose this time while you kept trying to get into the middle of them to stop them from fighting like children.

David seemed to get the upper hand and punched Jungkook in the jaw knocking him down against the floor hitting a bookshelf on the way down and you almost screamed seeing some blood fall from his eyebrow. A small cut making him bleed a little, David leant down gripping onto the shirt Jungkook was ready as he pulled his fist back.

"ENOUGH!" You shouted out stepping in front of Jungkook so that David couldn't continue his assault on him but David was turning red in the face as you stood in the way to defend him of all people.  

"I am not some toy you fight over in the playpen!" You said to him as you stared into his eyes David spat blood out onto the floor as he stared back at you going to speak as he wiped his bloodied mouth.

"Tell him to leave or I'm going to-" 

"Then leave!" Your voice cut him off as you stared into his eyes wasting no time on him, if he was going to act like a child then you were going to treat him like one it was as simple as that. You didn't want someone like him being around your daughter.

"But we-"

"We? We are nothing! Not if that's how you treat the father of my daughter, get out." You stood your ground until he was out of the shop, once he was gone you locked the door and turned to get a better look at Jungkook. There was a small gash just above his eyebrow that would be easily taken care of with a home first aid box and some painkillers.

"I'll clean you up, I have a first aid kit in the apartment upstairs." You whispered, bending down to help him up from the floor as you took him towards the staircase.

"I've never had a woman defend my honour before, it was nice." Jungkook laughed as you applied some butterfly stitches to the cut above his eyebrow, it was nothing major but you needed to patch it up. He'd hissed when you'd applied some of the solution from the kit to clean it with beforehand.

"I never knew he was such a cunt," You mumbled sitting down in front of Jungkook, you were sitting on the small coffee table in front of the sofa he was on. He could tell how upset you were over the guy and he sighed looking at you and reaching out his hand as he held onto your wrist to get your attention. 

"You'll find someone who will treat you and Arehum like royalty. You deserve that," You stared into his eyes and wished it was him, but the way he was talking made it sound like he knew it wasn't him and never would be. 

"Mummy?" You cleared your throat as you heard Arehums voice come from behind you, you turned to look over your shoulder at her, 

"Yes, sweetie?" Her hands were clutching the turtle that Jungkook hadn't won for you back when he first met you. She had tears streaming down her cheeks as she whimpered out,

"Nightmare?" You questioned as she nodded as she sniffled out.

"Can you and daddy read me something?" Glancing back at Jungkook you waited for him to give her the answer, you didn't mind him reading to her with you. You adored that they were getting so close as a father and daughter, it almost made it feel like Jungkook was a real person instead of the famous singer everyone else knew him to be. 

"Sure thing, which story?" He questioned following after Areuhm who went hunting for the perfect book for you both to read to her that night while you cleaned up and thought back on what Jungkook had said. 'You'll find someone who will treat you and Arehum like royalty. You deserve that' did that mean he didn't want it to be him? Did he not return the same feelings for you that you had for him? If he didn't want was the big fight for with David...Though you guess that did save you a bunch of wasted time down the line.

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