#then they just wake up in the morning to find he managed to worm his way between them in bed

[captaincrowe]

Anyway, after watching the Wicked movie again, I think my ideal outcome of the love triangle in a canon divergence scenario is "Gelphie and their free-range boytoy Fiyero who comes and goes as he pleases."

[freyito]

ᴅᴇʟʟɪɴɢʀꜝ ⨟ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, jiaoqiu, moze, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ in which: you wake up next to them.

✧ a/n: for those who have read my works since i first started writing, i made a little masterpost on the mk(1) boys nightly rotuines... i figured id do one for hsr men since my mk hyperfixation died and is buried 6ft under... and i might do one for the hsr men nighttime routines but for now... wakey wakey

✦ taglist: @fffrost, @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, not proofread

✎ wc: 3.9k

⎯ Aventurine

Ever the gambler, AVENTURINE even takes a gamble on waking up in the morning. He can set as many alarms as he wants, but he always sleeps in. He finds any excuse to cuddle up next to you and enjoy your warmth for a minute, or even an hour more. He doesn’t mind coming into work late, he always finds a way to slip out of write-ups.

You’ve lost count of how many alarms went off by now, as annoying as it was. Still, despite how important Aventurine was, he’s cuddled up against your back, hands gripping your clothes tightly as if you’d dare to wiggle out of his arms. You could remind him, again and again, that he needs to go, that he has a meeting that day, or a certain deadline, and he’ll just groan and say that his superiors can handle him being gone for another hour or so.

When you do manage to convince him to get up and start the day, he does everything with such reluctance. Forget his rank, forget all of it, he’d much rather spend several more hours in bed with you, even when the sun dips low. He’s slow to put on his uniform, asking you the most mundane of questions, with answers he already knows. He skips out on breakfast at hope, douses himself in that expensive cologne that makes you have to distance yourself until he leaves, and wires you enough money to buy the entire menu from the cafe you mentioned you liked in passing.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

The early bird gets the worm, as they say, and VERITAS is no exception to the saying. Considering work has him busy, he’s thoughtful enough to leave you to sleep, if you are not accustomed to a sleep schedule like his. He tends to wake up early, to give himself enough time to prepare himself for the day. He likes to be thorough, check over his lesson plan for the day, make sure he made no mistakes the day before (although he rarely needs to revise it).

While on the outside, he seems cold and uncaring, on the inside he’s flustering himself with how much he worries about you. He knows he will see you later in the day, when you’ll bring him his lunch, or after his lectures, but some part of leaving just unsettles him. Not that he believes you’d be in danger if you were gone, but more so how you take care of yourself. Of course he knows you’re capable, but some part in him wants to make sure.

So, before he leaves, right when you wake up, he does his best to cook a filling breakfast. Most of the times, Ratio has to put it in some tupperware and save it for later at work, but there are very rare occasions that he gets to enjoy the meal with you. He always makes more– “it was an accident, nothing more,” he’ll say, shaking his head, stoic as ever. But you know it wasn’t– and shovel it onto your plate, it’s his own love language. 

⎯ Boothill

BOOTHILL is an early riser. It’s a habit that was ingrained in him since he was knee high. Granted, he doesn’t need much sleep, and he isn’t around as often as you’d like. He doesn’t stay in one place for long, and he really only swings by your apartment once or twice every month. But that doesn’t mean he’ll sleepover, if only for a night.

Despite the fact that he wakes up even hours before you, he decides to let you sleep. Sometimes he’ll stay in bed as long as you are, soaking in the peaceful sight, one that he’s never afforded himself until you came along. He reaches out ever so tentatively, as if he’ll feel your warm skin underneath his finger tips, but all it earns him is a shudder and your face scrunching. And when you wake up, he’s in such a hurry to pretend he wasn’t watching you sleep, mumbling apologies like he’s disturbed you.

When he’s not watching over you, Boothill enjoys cooking. He might’ve lost his taste and stomach a while ago, but he’s still an excellent chef. For all he can’t eat, he loves cooking. And he believes one of the best ways of waking up is to have a hearty breakfast. While you catch up on your sleep (most likely because he showed up at your apartment late into the night scuffed and bloody(?), acting like nothing happened), he’s making the most heavenly smelling pancakes ever, humming some old country tune to himself. If you dare get up to see what he’s cooking, he shoos you back to bed, tutting and claiming that you’re ruining the surprise, as if he doesn’t do this every time.

⎯ Gallagher

For such a busy man, GALLAGHER tends to sleep a lot. Or perhaps, too little. His schedule is always fluctuating, which means he’s up early and home late. It’s unfair, you think. Most of the time he’ll come home all quiet, settle on a snack, and then sneak into bed, and pull you up close. Half the time he doesn’t even care about his clothes, opting to take off his vest and shirt and throw them on the floor. He’ll worry about the laundry later.

That being said, it’s often a gamble if you’ll see him in the morning or not. He wakes up quite early, and as much as he’d love to spend time with you, cuddle up, and go straight back to sleep, he has to at least look presentable for the next time he’s called in. Most of the time, he accidentally wakes you up when he gets up to shower, but you settle back in quite comfortably. 

Most of the time, he’ll have to leave right after his shower. So he’ll do his best to be quiet as a mouse, sneak in, and press a kiss to your forehead, before starting his day. But on the days he can sleep in, or when he doesn’t have work… he climbs right back into bed. The scent of his body wash rolls over you, in the near-overpowering sandalwood haven it is. He’ll wrap his arm around your waist, pull you impossible closer, and nuzzle into your neck. If you are awake by that time, he urges you to go back to sleep. ‘5 more minutes’, he’ll grumble, and in possibly record speed, he’s out like light. His arm loosens ever so slightly, as he snores away until his thirteenth alarm goes off.

⎯ Sunday

As a stickler for schedules, it’s no surprise that SUNDAY has a strict morning routine. He wakes up at 7 AM system time, 6 AM being too early, and 8 AM being too late. Of course, he encourages you to do the same. You get used to it with time.

He likes to start with a shower, of course. Something intimate with you, yet so normal. He does not mind spending an hour in the shower, but with his station, he cannot. So unfortunately, he has to cut such time short. But he makes sure to soak in every single minute left in the morning with you. A nice breakfast and some tea, as he chats away about his ‘chores’ for the day, what matters he is attending to, whether or not it is a day in the office or out and about. 

Regardless of how busy his day is, Sunday makes sure you know that you are in every waking thought of his. A kiss and a hug at the door, and he’s on his way. You can see some flicker of sorrow as he leaves, as if it is something to grieve over, not being by your side for a minute longer. But alas, to achieve and infinite amount of sundays, he cannot afford to make room in his schedule for more down time. 

⎯ Argenti

ARGENTI never ceases to look as heavenly as ever, even in his sleep. However, he has quite a strict schedule he sticks to, something that manifested when his master started training him. He has quite the strict schedule: wake up early, shower, enjoy his breakfast, and start training, unless he has somewhere to be. 

However, he does allow him so rest days, where he sleeps just a little longer, and allows himself more spare time. Very rarely do you catch him asleep when you wake up, and most mornings when he does ‘sleep in’, you often wake up to him gazing down at you. His head propped up by his hand, hair cascading down his shoulders. He could even miss out on several hours of sleep or perhaps even the entire night, and still look angelic. He greets you with a soft smile and a huff, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, as he waits for you to properly wake up.

And once you’re ready to get up, he’s ready to start the day. Anything you do, he's practically following you around like a lost puppy. When you make breakfast, you're either watching over his shoulder, or he is. He never skips out on a chance to dance in the kitchen, making something that was normally a spectacle regulated, and yet, it still feels as intimate as it does the very first time he pulled you into his arms.

⎯Sampo Koski

SAMPO KOSKI needs his beauty sleep. Granted, his sleeping schedule varies based on his business. Sometimes he needs to rob someone blind in the early hours of the morning, or his clients want to meet way past his bedtime. He’ll huff and puff and complain about it, but he always makes time to curl up in your arms like a poor little stray kitten.

When he is finally free of his dreaded work (his path in life that HE chose), he sleeps in quite late. Most of the time, he wants to enjoy the time he has left with you, pout and complain about how hard his job is (again, a career HE CHOSE). He has a lot to say when he (or you) wake up, only because he’s missed talking casually, and most of all, he’s missed you. His jobs and clients have him acting all proper, putting on some other character than he truly is for his clients. While there are some acts he likes… sometimes he just wants to break character and get his clients to buy whatever piece of junk he’s stolen.

Despite all his yapping, he truly enjoys the time he gets with you, even if most of it is him keeping you in bed. He pulls you up close to his chest if you even dare to move, burying his face in the crook of your neck and muttering pathetic little ‘don’t leave’s and the like. When you look down at him he’s just so tired, his eyebags are somehow seven times darker and he’s lost all that luster in his eyes. But you know he’s putting on an act. When you get up, he’ll be crawling to your side in no time.

⎯ Jing Yuan

Ah, the Dozing General. Who better to wake up with? While JING YUAN has to be up early, he doesn’t skip out on any time that could be spent with you. When his first alarm goes off, he’s quick to snooze it, rolling over and throwing his arm over your waist, pulling you closer. He’s used to waking up this early, of course, but he doesn’t like to miss out on those precious 30 minutes where he’s holding you close, uninterrupted. You’re accustomed to this schedule, as well. Wake up; but not really, spend the next moments cuddling, and then start your day.

As the Divine Foresight, he doesn’t get as much leisure time as he’d like, or days off. He could spend all day in bed, really, spoiling himself (as he sees it) to high heavens. But unfortunately, there is work that needs to be done, and he needs to start his day. And (un)fortunately, he quite enjoys dragging you along. A nice walk in the garden before he truly starts the day is a sign of a peaceful day. With you by his side, half-awake or not.

That being said, he does so because he wishes to spend every possible moment he has with you. His station means his workload will be unpredictable, and while he wishes that all days would be mundane, that wish will never come true. So, spending the first thirty minutes to several hours of his morning with you is what he rewards himself with. A nice meal and a good bath sets him in the right mood, being simply a step away at most in the morning. 

⎯ Blade

BLADE doesn’t sleep well in general. Often times he’s woken up at all hours in the night by things he won’t share– “It’s childish.” is what he says, with a huff. Nightmares. It’s nightmares. He doesn’t have much of a reaction to them anymore, aside from grumbling and complaining quietly, which is normal. As much as he tries to go back to sleep, he simply can’t most of the time, opting to do something to keep his mind and hands busy, as sleep deprived as he is.

You tend to be met with his back when you wake up, tense as ever. When he can’t find something to do, he settles on meditation, which does nothing to calm the voices and ‘vengeance��� that addles his mind. It does too little for him, his mind always circling back to what could have been. The minute you shift in bed, he snaps out of it quickly, looking back at you with his unreadable gaze. 

Most of the time, if you ask him to lay down with you, he will, as long as he doesn’t have an assignment he needs to be on. For all his sharp edges, he’s quite… dull when it comes to you. Perhaps it’s the many years he’s faced that’s made him lose his luster, or simply his own undoing. Yet, somehow, when you pull him in close, he relaxes ever so slightly. Perhaps not all the way, but it’d take you a couple more years to break down his walls completely. You could sleep for another three hours and he’d at least get time to close his eyes and let his mind rest; something he desperately needs.

⎯ Luocha

While LUOCHA’s “work” has him up quite early, well into the AMs. Of course, with all the traveling he’s done, his sleep schedule varies, and it’s not like he gets to spend as much time as he’d like with you, but you tag along all the same. He could be awake at 3AM system time and you’d be sound asleep until 10AM, and somehow, he’d still look as handsome as ever. You’re starting to feel a little jealous.

Still, he makes time to greet you in the morning. Aside from being a merchant, he is, of course, a healer, and he wants to make sure you're sleeping right. And, perhaps to catch up, if he has been gone for a few days. After all, not only does physical health matter, but mental, as well. A quick little chat, maybe some tender touches, and a hearty meal that he’s brought from the markets is quite enough mental stimulation, yes?

Sometimes, it seems he disagrees, choosing to crawl in bed alongside you, even if you chose to wake up properly. He’ll play with your hair, whisper sweet nothings to you, or simply just stare and smile. He doesn’t get to be affectionate often, either, and often that need for human touch culminates, which leads to those impromptu cuddling sessions in the morning.

⎯ Jiaoqiu

As a healer, JIAOQIU wants to make sure you (and him) maintain a normal, healthy sleep schedule. Unless he’s on an emergency call, he tends to wake up at a mostly normal time, between 8-10 AM. Of course, he wakes you up with him, wanting to start his day off right with your pretty face.

He wakes you up oh so sweetly for a man with such a scheming smile. His fingers glide over your skin, pushing your hair behind your ear, using such a sweet voice, one so sweet that it makes your teeth ache. And when you're finally properly awake, he’s all too excited to rush off to the kitchen, like a giddy child. 

Of course, what’s a morning without Jiaoqiu without some breakfast? When you return from your shower, the kitchen is alive with his cooking, the sounds of sizzling and smells of spices (what else?) a delightful concoction. What is he cooking? Ji dan bing, a fulfilling breakfast. While you are the only person he cuts down the spice for, the food still has enough kick to make you make a face. Of course, his plate smells so spicy that it makes you recoil, which earns a chuckle from the Foxian.

⎯ Moze

Most of the time, MOZE sneaks into your shared bed by the morning, seeing as most of his work is carried out during the night. By the time he’s settled in bed, it’s around the time you wake up. It’s a peaceful sight, really. You’re so used to him scowling or simply not emoting, that when you wake up to his face, tranquil as ever, it makes your heart flutter.

Of course, that does not last. He is up within the first couple of seconds you stare too long, easily woken by any simple rustling. The feeling of someone’s eyes on him means one thing: danger. And he unfortunately hasn’t shaken that habit. However, he has grown used to the fact that it’s you staring at him in the morning hours, and thankfully you are spared a knife to your throat.

He jolts awake with a disgruntled groan, his eyes darting over your features, taking in as much information as he can in his hazy mind state, as if he hadn’t seen your face a thousand times over. Once he is satisfied with the fact that it’s you, he lays back down with a huff, before pulling you down with him. You may have the day to start, but he would like at least a couple more moments in bed with you, he’s stubborn that way.

⎯ Dan Heng

With his days off, DAN HENG tends to enjoy lounging. If not lounging, then reading, and if not reading, then cleaning. But most of the time, since you came back from the Xianzhou Loufu, he’s been sleeping in an awful lot. You're often the first to wake up, or at least, the first to get out of bed.

Most of the time, you sleep in with him, happy to get a couple extra minutes to a couple hours more of sleep. It’s a nice moment of peace and quiet after the amount of missions you two have been on, while March and the Trailblazer updates you on what’s happening wherever they are. Still, sometimes sleeping in gets kind of boring. So while Dan Heng catches on some much needed sleep (and alone time), you busy yourself with cleaning around the express, helping Pom-Pom with certain tasks, and even doing your best to cook up some breakfast.

When you bring your expert attempt at pancakes back to you and Dan Heng’s room, he perks up. He goes from sulking to practically beaming (or what you can consider beaming, you get a soft smile nonetheless), and digs in eagerly. It seems like enough to energize him for a couple of days, pushing away what had happened on the Loufu to the furthest reaches of his mind.

⎯ Gepard

GEPARD does not get much time in the mornings with you or himself. As captain of the guard, he has to be up early, and on call whenever the need arises. While it is very rare that he is called to dispatch an issue in the middle of the night, he is often reluctant to simply leave you in the morning. Of course, he won’t wake you for his own selfish reasons, he just simply wishes he could get more time to enjoy your presence in the morning.

As quietly as he tries to move, somehow he always wakes you up, or perhaps that's what your sleep cycle has gotten used to. Oftentimes, you wake up when he’s taking his shower, his soft humming rising over the sound of water. You know he only does this when he believes he is alone or heard, and every single time, you can’t help but think of it as cute. But you won’t tell him you heard it.

Most of the time you stay up so you can say goodbye to Gepard and tell him to have a good day, while he stumbles over excuses that he doesn’t need. He’s adorable in all his fluster, before he finally collects himself with a deep breath. He promises he’ll see you at the end of the day, and that he’ll bring some dinner home from one of your favorite restaurants.

⎯ Caelus

What adventure with CAELUS drag you on next? That’s a constant question that haunts your mind every time an adventure is done. The most sleep you get is on the Express, in between missions. In the morning’s, he wakes up with such determination, it’s almost impressive. He could have the worst sleep of his life and he wakes up raring to go.

Of course, he does his best not to wake you if you aren’t up. In fact, he’ll do his best to be as quiet as possible, sneaking out of the room, and even tip-toeing down the cabins. Like any little movement will wake his precious partner up. However, sometimes, when he’s feeling a little clingy, he’ll cuddle back in bed and pull you really close, refusing to let go unless you need to do something.

On the occasion you guys are out on a mission, he is the complete opposite. He could wake up well into the noon and groan and complain about not getting enough sleep, even if he slept like a baby. Of course, he wants to get on with his adventures, but at the same time, the hotel’s bed is soooo comfy, and he doesn’t want to leave. Which, he’ll keep you there too until he’s fully awake, spooning you and hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

⎯ Welt

On his days off, which seems to be most days now, WELT sleeps in only a little. Mornings with him are nothing short of intimate, simply laying there in each others arms, muttering sweet words. Truth be told, he enjoys these quiet moments, even if they push back the work he has to get done around the Express.

Still, no one's complaining, right? The work he has to get done will get done eventually, and he can spare a couple hours for his beloved. He cherishes every stolen second, as the hours tick away, his fingers trailing over your skin, before cupping your face. Framing his entire world in his palm.

However, you can’t stay in bed forever. Unfortunately, you do have to get up, and start your day. Welt won’t leave your side, though. Not if he can help it, at least. You two share a shower together, some more words, of course, and even cook together afterwards. Pom Pom huffs and puffs about not only Welt, but you being late and taking too long, and how the Express is founded on the structure of the schedule. It’s okay, however, because Pom Pom will be thanking you two for your hard work (sweeping the other cabins, cleaning the windows, and vacuuming the carpet) at the end of the day.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server (16+) | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[emonaculate]

Emon babbles...

This idea has been plaguing my mind, but I couldn't figure out how to write it in the way I visualize it in my brain. So, why not give you all what I have in the meantime?

Bandmate!Gojo x Readerــــــــﮩ٨ـ

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo who didn’t even want to be at this tacky-ass three-day audition. He had better things to do than wake up before the birds and the worms just to hear sob stories and half-baked songs from wannabe musicians hoping to ride the coattails of his fame.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who’s uncharacteristically… cruel? He claims it’s just because he’s not a morning person—that it has nothing to do with the reason they’re even holding auditions for a new bassist. But Gojo Satoru has always been a terrible liar. Everyone knows it. Especially Shoko.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo still manages to tower over his bandmates, Nanami and Shoko, even while slouched in his seat—absently clicking and unclicking a pen, expression unreadable behind nearly pitch-black shades. He rolls his eyes as another girl onstage gushes about how he saved her, how she loves him… blah blah blah.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who gets elbowed—hard—by Shoko. She doesn't need to see his eyes to know he's zoning out and back on his bullshit. She always knows.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo isn’t usually the bad guy. A menace? Sure. Annoying? Absolutely. Cocky? Always. But this version—this cold, detached, almost cruel version? That’s new. That’s not him.

But he doesn’t know how to go back. Back to when the band was whole. Back to when music actually meant something. Back to when Geto was still with him. with the band.

Nothing's been the same since.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo watches the girl slink offstage, dejected after failing to get her “main character moment.” He shouldn’t feel satisfied, but he does. Something is intoxicating about having that kind of power over someone.

“You’re a piece of shit, y’know that?” Nanami’s voice cuts through the silence. Calm. Cold.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who usually lets criticism roll off his back like water. After all, he knows who he is: a prodigy, a pioneer, a legend in the making. His influence will echo long after he's gone. But what unsettles him—what really gets under his skin—is when someone sees through the performance. Past the cocky smirk, the designer sunglasses, the tattoos and piercings, the curated persona. Nanami might be one of those people.

And that terrifies him.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who pretends Nanami’s stare doesn’t make his skin crawl—doesn’t make him feel seen in the worst possible way. He shrugs, casual and dismissive, but his fingers tighten around the pen in his hand until the plastic creaks.

“Nanami…” Shoko warns, her voice low. She can feel the tension thickening, like a storm about to break. This conversation? It’s been a long time coming.

“No,” Nanami cuts her off, voice gentle but firm. “He needs to hear this. The label won’t say anything, and I know you’re tired of getting dragged for his behavior too.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo feels his eye twitch. Slowly, deliberately, he drags his gaze up to meet Nanami’s. A smirk curls at his lips, and he lets out a low, mocking laugh.

“You got something you wanna say to me, Kenny?”

“I’m glad you think all this is funny,” Nanami replies, voice steady, hands tucked neatly in his lap like he’s discussing the weather. “Let me tell you what I find really fucking funny.”

He turns his chair to face Satoru directly and leans forward slightly, manspread, not to intimidate him—but to talk to him, man to man.

“You’re a twenty-three-year-old burnout lashing out at everyone around you. You're angry at the world, but the truth is, you're the reason everything's falling apart. You’re the reason Geto dumped you.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo shoots up from his chair, the metal legs screeching violently against the floor before the whole thing crashes backward with a loud clang. The sheer aggression in his movement makes the air crackle. That mocking smirk is gone.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who takes a single step forward, and before the second one even lands, Nanami is already moving—controlled, practiced, deliberate. In one fluid motion, he swaps places with Shoko, placing himself squarely between her and Gojo without a word.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who seethes as his chest rises and falls, fists clenched tight, turning his knuckles white at his sides. The pen, long forgotten, lies cracked on the floor near the upturned chair.

“You wanna say that again?” He growls, voice low and venomous like a snake ready to strike. His shades had been discarded during the commotion, and his gaze was nothing but a dark azure color as he glared.

Despite how scary Gojo looks at the moment, Nanami remains unshaken and firm. “I don’t repeat myself. You heard me the first time.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who suddenly feels like he’s vibrating out of his own skin. His vision flashes white-hot with rage and—something else. Guilt, maybe. Pain, definitely. But mostly, he just wants to hit something. Break something. Make someone else feel the way he’s been feeling for months.

Shoko forcefully wedges herself between the two men and lets out a low hum as if she hasn’t just been caught in the middle of a powder keg ready to blow. She gives Nanami a reassuring smile, relieved to see the blonde ease up immediately.

“Alright,” she breathes out lowly, “who wants to explain to the label that the bassist auditions ended in a fistfight? Let's just get through the last audition and call it a night.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who doesn’t move. Who doesn’t breathe for a second too long? His eyes still locked on his target; Nanami.

Because for all his anger—for all the pressure in his chest and heat behind his eyes—he knows Nanami is right. And that’s what pisses him off the most.

“Please… Satoru?” Her voice is soft, tired in a way that hurts way more than yelling could ever compare. And for a flicker of a second, something in him stirs. Guilt. Once upon a time, he was the guy who would tell someone off for stressing Shoko out. Once upon a time, he was the guy who would protect her.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo tears his eyes away from Nanami wordlessly, jaw tight as he forces himself to back down. The rage in his chest doesn’t vanish, but it simmers just enough to allow him to move. For Shoko.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who bends to pick up his chair with slow, deliberate movements, as though controlling the pace of his own unraveling. He counts silently in his head as a means to calm down while he moves the chair. He sets it upright without a word, the echo of metal legs scraping across the floor barely audible over the hush of the room.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who doesn’t acknowledge the crew’s concerned murmurs. If they were so concerned, they would have done more to help alleviate the situation besides just watching.

"Are you alright?" "Do you want some water?" "Should we take a break?"

He ignores all of it. Eyes forward. Shoulders squared. Like nothing happened.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo sinks into the chair again, but it’s different now. The slouch is gone. His hands rest on his thighs, clenched into fists. He picked up his sunglasses and placed them on the top of his head. They're slightly lopsided, but he makes no move to fix them.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo was sure he hated himself more than anyone else could.

Y/n, who had been waiting backstage for what felt like hours, hears her name finally called—flatly, almost like an afterthought. Damn. Maybe calling out of work to be here wasn't the brightest idea.

“Next up... Y/N L/N.”

Y/n, who walks in clutching a slightly-too-big journal to her chest, its edges worn and dog-eared from being dragged through years of lyrics and late-night thoughts. A seaweed colored bass, with various aged stickers on it as decor, is slung across her back.

Y/n, who had promised herself she wouldn’t freeze—wouldn’t fangirl or stumble or stare too hard. But when she steps under the lights and sees him in the flesh for the first time, her breath still hitches.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who barely even looks like the version of himself plastered across album covers and magazine spreads. There’s no spotlight glow here, no teasing grin or playful arrogance. He was just there.

Y/n, who felt that starstruck shimmer fade, like fog burning off in daylight. Because this close, Gojo Satoru doesn’t look untouchable. He looks hollow. Like someone who lost something or someone important and never figured out how to fill the space it left behind.

Y/n blinks, clears her throat, and adjusts her grip on her journal as she crosses the stage. Her scuffed red high-top Converse echoes with every step.

“Y/n, right? Thanks for waiting.” Shoko meekly smiles; it's clear she wants to give an explanation for the delay, but knows better.

Y/n nods absently and begins shifting her bass around to rest in front of her. “Yeah. Of course.”

She doesn’t say she’s been waiting for this moment her whole life. She doesn’t say that the only thing keeping her from throwing up backstage was the sketch she doodled of her setup in the margins of that same battered journal.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who still hasn’t said a word. Still hasn’t really looked at her. Y/n feels something twist in her chest—not disappointment, not exactly. Just the quiet understanding that legends are people, too. Flawed. Fractured. Geez, angsty much?

She plugs in. Fingers hover just above the strings.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t bother to look up as the girl starts playing. He’s already heard enough bad renditions of their hits today to fill a lifetime. The stage lights hum. Someone in the crew coughs in the corner. The low rumble of nervous fingers plucking strings reaches his ears. He pulls his shades back down over his eyes; he could already feel a migraine coming on.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo clenches his jaw as she stumbles through the first few measures. The rhythm is off. The timing slips. Her tone’s there, somewhere, but it’s drowning in nerves and a touch too much hesitance. He hears her miss a transition—rookie mistake.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo rolls his eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck. He finally lifts his head just slightly, not enough to meet her eyes, but enough to glare over the rim of his sunglasses.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who’s done. He can’t stand another second of it.

“Alright,” he snaps, voice slicing through the room like a whip. “Stop. Fuck. Just—seriously. Stop.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who stands up, raking a hand through his snowy hair with visible agitation. “This is insane. Every person that walks on this stage either wants to fuck me, cry on me, or butcher my songs like it’s some kind of sick talent show. I don’t need another hopeful fangirl with a decent smile and a hobby.”

His voice rises.

“Where are the real musicians? The ones who feel it in their goddamn DNA? Who play like they’d bleed for it, not like they’re worried about hitting the right note just to impress someone they saw on a magazine cover!”

“Jesus, Satoru…” Shoko winces and mutters under her breath.

“You could’ve just said she’s not ready.” Nanami, presses a hand to his forehead.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who meets her stare for the first time. Actually looks at her. And for a moment, something about the way she’s holding her bass again—this time not as a shield, but like a weapon—makes him pause.

“…I appreciate the opportunity…”

Y/n starts and leans into the mic, her voice soft and sweet. She trails off, but her gaze doesn’t break. Something’s changed. The stage lights don’t feel so big anymore. The nerves melt right off her shoulders as she tilts her head, considers him—really considers him. Her gaze flashes from what was once starstruck to almost condescending.

Her sweet, soft tone sharpens into something sharp-edged and raspy—the kind of voice that belongs in front of crowds, under spotlights, on vinyl.

“You say all this about real musicians and what true artists are… but you don’t even look like one yourself.”

The room stills.

“I know I’m a real musician. I know I could keep up with you on your so-called ‘level.’ OR even outplay you. Hell, I could play any song you throw at me blindfolded and I wouldn’t miss a single note.”

She steps closer to the mic, wrapping her manicured hand around it as she raises her voice. The bass hangs at her hip now like it’s fused to her. Her voice is filled with pure confidence and snark.

“So go ahead and throw your tantrum, bitch. But don’t talk to me like I don’t fucking belong here.”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who lets out a sharp laugh—humorless, more reflex than joy. She really just said that. To him. He steps forward slowly, only the sound of the chains around his neck is heard with how quiet the room is.

“Oh, you’ve got nerve, I’ll give you that,” He mutters, tilting his head just slightly to the side. His voice lowers, smug and dangerous. “Big words for someone who can’t even hold tempo under pressure.”

Y/n, however, doesn't waver. Doesn’t shift. She just watches him, chest rising and falling steadily, like she wants him to try her. The look in her eyes screams nothing if not defiant.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who sees the challenge in her eyes and decides, Fine. You want to prove it? Let's see you burn.

“Alright, hotshot.” He lifts a hand and snaps his fingers toward a crew member. “Bring me a six-string. Get the monitors live.”

“You’re seriously doing this now?”

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who ignores Nanami's protests, is already pulling off his black aviator jacket and letting it fall carelessly behind a speaker. Someone hands him his guitar—a weathered custom model, black body, silver hardware, nearly as iconic as he is. His toned arms flex underneath his grey wife-beater as he holds the guitar.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who doesn’t even need to tune it. Just slings it on and strums a few warmup chords with effortless precision, muscle memory sharp from years of living in this world. He looks up at her, eyes glinting behind his crooked shades.

“Let’s make this simple,” he says, voice low. “You say you can hang with me? Prove it. ‘Charmolypi.’”

Y/n stills as she hears the title—not from fear, but sheer shock. That track was never released as sheet music. No tabs. No official breakdowns. Only the live version exists online—jagged, brutal, unforgiving. The song that reminds him of Geto. The song Gojo never plays anymore.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo watches Y/n closely now, waiting for her to fold. Daring her to.

“Blindfolded, right?” he adds with a singsong grin that’s almost cruel. “Unless that was just another line for the mic.”

Y/n slowly, silently, pulls her journal from the amp where she left it. She sets it down. Unzips a side pocket. Pulls out a black ribbon and ties it calmly around her head—right over her eyes. The room suddenly became even quieter.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, whose smirk falters for just a second. Y/n lifts the bass effortlessly and adjusts her grip, then rolls her shoulders back like she's about to dive head first off a cliff.

“I hope you’re ready to keep up with me,” Y/n says into the mic.

There's a pause in her words...

“Bitch.”

Ah there it is.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who can’t stop the sharp, stunned laugh that bursts out of him.

“…You’re insane.”

But this time, he doesn’t sound mad. He sounds alive.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo doesn’t look at her right away. He watches her in fragments. Through the slant of his lowered head. Through his lashes. Through the spaces between his thoughts, where the ghosts tend to live.

Charmolypi. A song with a name that means joy mixed with grief. A kind of beauty that hurts to hold. It was never meant for public ears, just something born between long nights, cigarette smoke, and a friendship that cracked before it could heal.

He plays the opening chords like muscle memory—because it has to be. His fingers know the way better than his heart does. That part of him got buried under too many headlines and hangovers, under too many nights he couldn’t quite remember but always seemed to end with Geto’s name stuck in his throat.

The strings hum.

And then she begins to play. Y/n, blindfolded, hands steady, pulse louder than the amp she plugs into. And yet, she starts anyway.

She comes in slightly behind him at first, just a breath too cautious. He’s already rolling his eyes in the back of his mind when she catches the rhythm mid-step, and holds it. No stutter. No flinch. It’s like watching someone walk a tightrope barefoot, terrified and trembling, but still refusing to fall. He almost respects it. Then she improvises.

Not just to show off. It’s nothing flashy. No desperate finger-speed acrobatics like the other posers who tried to impress him with technique and no soul. This? This is something else. She adds four notes. Quiet. Intentional. Mournful in a way that feels too intimate to be accidental. A deviation so subtle it would’ve gone unnoticed—except Gojo feels it; right in the center of his goddamn chest.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo suddenly looks at her. Really really looks. The blindfold. The curve of her mouth, not smirking, not posing. Just concentrating. Like she’s trying to wring something honest from a song that was never meant to see the light of day. Her hands move like she’s searching. Not for applause, but for meaning.

And something sharp pierces the haze behind his eyes. For a second, he sees Geto.

Geto, who used to press his forehead to Gojo’s back after long studio sessions and hum the bassline into his spine while Gojo pretended it didn’t make his breath hitch.

Geto, who co-wrote Charmolypi in a hotel bedroom while the rest of them slept. Who refused to write lyrics for it because he said the music should “ache in silence.”

Geto, who walked out of Gojo’s life without ever saying goodbye. No closure. No letters. Just an empty seat, and a song that no one else was ever supposed to touch.

Until now.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, whose jaw clenches. Because she shouldn’t be able to play this. She shouldn't understand the weight of it. And yet—here she is. Breathing life into something he left to rot. Y/n, who improvises again during the bridge. Adds a cascading fill that slips through his melody like water through fingers. It's like she’s not playing with him. She’s playing to him. Speaking in a language only musicians and broken people understand.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who suddenly can’t look away. There’s something infuriating about her. About the way she walks in here, green and trembling, but still braver than half the industry fakes he’s had to deal with in the last year. She’s raw. She’s rough around the edges. But she’s honest. And that’s the one thing he’s been starving for without even knowing it. The final note hangs in the air. It echoes like the end of a confession. Silence follows. But not the kind that asks for applause. It’s heavier than that. Reverent. Like something just shifted.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo exhales, and realizes he was holding his breath. He hates that she made him do that.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who speaks first, low and flat. “You improvised.”

“Was I not allowed to?” Y/n, still blindfolded, lifts her chin.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo almost says yes. Almost says she ruined it. But he remembers the ache in that bridge. The way her fingers knew where to fill the silence.

“You made it better,” he says instead, the words tasting like betrayal.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who looks at the girl still standing on that stage like it doesn’t take everything in him not to ask her to play it again. Not because he needs proof—but because he needs to feel that truth again. That ache. That joy. That grief. He’ll never tell her what Charmolypi really means. He’ll never tell her how he and Geto played the song for the first time together, as a confession for things unsaid, both of them bleeding in different ways, neither willing to say it out loud. He’ll never tell her that this was the first time the song didn’t feel like a grave.

✮⋆˙Bandmate!Gojo, who knows now: he’s going to keep her around.

Not for romance. Not for drama. But because something about her matters. And for the first time in a long time, Gojo Satoru wants to see what comes next.

Part II ???

[ilium-ilia]

Everything You Touch

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | previously known as "soft spot" | masterlist

Chapter Twelve: anamneses

tw: minor violence, blood

By the beginning of December, Simon has fully moved in with you. 

It’s an easy transition, considering he only has a few items to his name. Dusty hobby items and required necessities. With a few cardboard boxes and plastic totes shoved in the boot of his car, it only took one trip to your apartment to move everything over, and then only two hours after that to settle his things in with yours. Mismatching cutlery, plain and chipped mugs among your themed ones, a new toothbrush resting next to yours—it’s effortless. A gentle weaving of the threads of life. 

Each morning that you wake up with him by your side, you feel those threads begin to knot. Inseparable, ends mending until the fibers are indiscernible. He’s always on his back, snoring in the middle of the night when you find yourself rousing. You watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest and decide to make it your pillow. It wakes him. You know it does because his snoring stops, but he never speaks. Never kvetches as you nestle your skull just beneath his collarbone. There is only a soft sigh, and the resting of his hand upon your head before he’s back to snoring again. 

He rises well before you do in the mornings, always managing to slip out of bed without stirring you and vanishing deep into the apartment. Usually, you find him in the living room with a mug in hand as he watches the news, or hunched over a book. In the beginning, he tried to make you breakfast but kept managing to burn the toast, so he’s given up that chore and left it to you, but your dishes are always done and the fridge never empties. 

You love having him here—your little ghost. You enjoy the fresh redolence he leaves behind after he showers in the bathroom and the heat he brings to your bed on cold winter nights. Even when you’re at work he still visits you, withdrawing money from his account and always leaving you a tip in the form of something for lunch or a bottled drink. 

Before long, all the wretched scars Eric left behind in your home have long faded. Simon patches over them tenderly with his boots by the door and his mouth on yours. 

For him, you have become a new constant in his life. A curious creature with odd routines of movie watching, long baths, and humming to music when you cook. His little bird, always chirping with fluttering wings, nesting into his side deep in the night, eating out of the palm of his hand and cooing his praises. Simon never thought he could be loved this much simply for existing—for providing such simple amenities like care and arms to hold you with. 

Still, there are old habits that the grey matter of his brain refuse to relinquish. 

His dreams being one of them. 

“Faster! Faster!” 

Pearly white teeth flash down at him as Simon’s arms extend high in the air, stubby legs and arms wiggling in the air as he holds his nephew up. His hands stiffen to a point, elbows attempting to lock as best as they can as he mocks engine noises and fluttering propellers, though it isn’t long before giggles interrupt his facade. He demands that Simon move faster, wiggling in his grasp, more worm than he ever is in an airplane. 

“Go easy on your uncle, Joseph.” 

A warm voice bleeds into his memories, and he instantly recognizes it as his brother’s. Tommy. He sits next to their mother on the couch with the soft lights of the Christmas Tree diffusing around him, illuminating the strands of his blonde hair. His smile is jolly as he leans back on the sofa, torso arguing against the Christmas sweater that looks roughly a size too small. 

“It’s alright,” Simon assures while he places his nephew back on the ground. The boy giggles once more as he keeps his arms straight and takes off running around the small living room. Chuckling, he steps back and watches the boy play, arms crossing over his chest. “You’re a lucky man, Tom. I’m proud of you.” 

And he is. Truly. There is immense pride that swells in his chest whenever he thinks of his brother’s battle with addiction—how he broke the cycle their father had long kept himself trapped in. It took true strength to pull himself out of that hole; more than Simon could ever dream of obtaining. 

“When are you going to stop saving the world and settle down?” Tommy asks. 

Simon can only smile at the floor. “Hm… Couldn’t do better than you ‘n Beth,” he admits softly, unable to look his brother in the eyes. 

“Simon?” And there she is. Looking up from the floor, his eyes find his sister-in-law. Beautiful auburn hair kisses her shoulders as she smiles, jamming a thumb behind her. “There’s someone at the door for you. A yank.” 

He knows what comes next. It’s always the same. An echo that refuses to fade. Still, Simon keeps that smile on his face as he weaves past Beth, fists clenching at his side as his dream twists before him. A figure stands in the doorway, a soft incandescence casting a warm glow on their body, but it’s different than what he expects. It’s wrong, twisted and morphed from something he should hate into something that he loves. 

It’s you.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Simon says like a warning—a threat. Voice low and caught deep in his throat; it’s foreign. Something he’d never say to you. 

Despite his menacing tone, your cheerful smile remains unwavering. “You were the one who brought me here,” you wittily retort. 

Eyes glazing over, you look past Simon and into the living room where Joseph continues to run around, arms spread wide and mouth still blubbering airplane sounds. His mother’s rocking chair creaks beneath her weight as she taps her feet on the ground, mouth opening but no sound escaping it. 

“You can’t stop it. You know that, right?” you ask, gaze still locked behind him. 

A hand absentmindedly rises to your neck where you play with the bead necklace around your throat, but it’s wrong. That comforting green is nowhere to be found, instead replaced with a bright crimson with beads that drip and morph down your throat like liquid—like blood. It’s too tight. Constricting. Choking. Taut fingers on your windpipe, fat palm crushing the cartlidge. 

“I can. I have to. They didn’t deserve it,” Simon chokes out, voice weak. He feels sick. Like he can’t get his vocal cords to resonate loud enough to make a difference. 

“No, silly,” you say with a patronizing giggle. “I’m not talking about them.” 

You don’t look at him when you laugh. Your eyes don’t light up the way he knows they’re supposed to; the way they always do when you’re with him. His chest collapses in on itself, ribs perforating lungs until they’re nothing but useless, mangled bits of flesh within him to feed the rot. He needs you to look at him. Desperate hands reach out to cup your cheeks, tilting your head so that your gaze would fall on him, but no matter how firmly he holds you, your eyes stray. Landing anywhere but on him, they wander, never focusing on him. 

“Look at me,” he says, grip becoming so firm he can feel your skull creak beneath his strength. Still, you refuse. “Look at me!” 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, voice soft. Cataracts cloud your eyes until they’re dull like stone. He can’t peer through it. He can’t get to you. “Ghost, it’s okay. You’re okay. You can’t hold onto me forever.” 

Finally, you look at him. He thought it would make him feel better, that it would feel like home, but it doesn’t. It’s a grave six feet deep with no company but a corpse. It’s maggots wiggling between his fingers, flies sizing him up for their next meal. All breath leaves his lungs, ripped straight from his chest, never to return. 

Why are you looking at him like this? Like you’re forgiving him? 

“Come on, you have to let go,” Tommy speaks up from behind him with a chuckle. A pair of arms snake their way around his torso, constricting his chest so tightly he nearly coughs. “You can’t do this forever, Simon.” 

But there is no flesh to cover his brother’s arms. There is nothing but bone and tendon, milky white and decaying; a skeleton dragging him backwards into the crypt that’s become his childhood home. Simon’s hands fall from your face as he attempts to push his brother off of him, but the iron grip is unrelenting. 

“I told you, Ghost.” It’s you. Voice gurgling, and choking, standing in front of him with a pained smile. There’s blood. Viscous splatters stain the wood at your feet as it seeps through your shirt, blooming like a flower in spring through the cotton. Your hands press over the wound, but there’s not enough pressure in the world to save you. How long have you been like this? “You can’t stop it.” 

Simon tries to scream, but when he opens his mouth nothing but a simple, pathetic push of air leaves his throat. More hands and arms assault his body, dragging him back, heels leaving long scratches in the floor as he’s separated from you. He’s helplessly frozen in place as he witnesses the blood continue to spill from your body, all while the mangled voices of his past coo in his ear. 

“You knew what would happen.”

“Did you really think it wouldn’t go wrong?”

“You killed her the moment you entered her life, Simon.”

“It was always gonna end up like this, kid.” 

When Simon wakes, you are not in bed. 

He sits up with a start, hand flying to your side of the bed where he finds that the sheets are still warm. He’s lost something—recently. It lingers. A hole in his chest. The space in the bed. 

Simon doesn’t bother to don a shirt before he’s thudding down the hallway, bare feet slapping against the solid floor in heavy, intentional thumps. His trigger finger twitches until he wanders past the bathroom door. A cascading waterfall emanates from the shower where he hears the stream interrupted by your swaying body. Through the noise, he hears your humming. A gentle melody—something made up, meant only for you. 

Stopping, he stares at the solid wood door before placing his hand on it. Steam warms it on the other side, seeping into his palm. It’s a pale imitation. A mere mimic of the beating of your heart. 

It’s enough for now. 

Going back to his roots, Simon decides to cook breakfast. Meat. Bacon and ham. Eggs. In another life, he was a butcher. Long ago when scars hadn’t yet marred his skin. When he was still an uncle. A brother. A son. As the food cooks in its pan, he can still perfectly recall the name of the cuts and how it felt to make those same carvings for himself. These days, he tries not to think about how similar swine is to the humans he slaughters on the battlefield, or how burning flesh always smells like barbeque once the hair is done singeing. 

You exit the bathroom with wet skin and a smile that’s too bright for the thoughts lurking in his brain. Not even your jokes or gentle hand on the center of his back can rattle them into submission. He tenses beneath your touch, wordlessly moving food onto plates and holding one out for you to take. You look at him knowingly, as if you’ve traced the spine of a book, knowledge soaking into you without so much as an utterance.

The two of you silently decide that it’s going to be a lazy day. Cuddled on the couch beneath blankets thick enough to stave off the drafty window, eyes focused on the television, attention long lost and drifting into space. Simon will be leaving again. Soon. Just after the New Year. Gone on the other side of the world, whispering sweet nothings to you through an old flip phone whenever the time difference allows. 

As you fall asleep against his side, your Saturday cat nap getting the better of you, he wonders how many times life can take something from him. What the capita is. If he’s paid his debt with the flesh off of his back yet or if life wants something more tender still. Something pure.

Someone like you. 

“Are you feeling okay?” 

As you look up at him, legs still curled over his lap, Simon can’t help but think how he doesn’t deserve you. He’s a stain in this apartment; in your life. Something rotten attempting to feed the roots of an astonishing flower. But he’d never admit it. He’d never willingly see himself out. He’s much too selfish for that. 

“What?” he asks, voice rolling off his tongue with a hum. 

“It’s just that you seem a bit more quiet than usual,” you note. You squeeze his forearm, fingers curling into his skin as if to pull him back home. 

“Yeah. I’m fine, sweetheart.” His assurance comes with a kiss to the crown of your head before he’s back to watching the television, eyes dull, staring through the screen as if he’s trying to decipher the tiny cracks in the wall beyond it. 

You don’t challenge his omission verbally. Instead, you lean into him as your leg twitches, fingers massaging the muscle of his arm. He tries to wander, but you won’t let him. Dragging him back, leaving behind nothing but claw marks in your wake, pulling him beneath the waves, smothering him until he’s painfully present in the moment, far away from war and death and the blatant disregard for all things sacred. 

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” You propose the activity as if you’re talking to a dog, voice pitchy and sweet. He supposes that, in some way, maybe he is. A dog. A bloodhound. Something to attack with foul teeth and no remorse.

Still—it’s all he really is. 

Once he agrees, you waste no time springing into action. You bound forward, shutting off the television and pulling him into the bedroom to change into proper clothes. It’s not late at night, but the season steals away the sun earlier and earlier in the evenings, leaving behind nothing but small puffs of orange that line the horizon. You share your excitement to see the lights, how your mother always enjoyed this time of year because of the decorations and how she wished they would keep them up year round, turning London less into a cement jungle gym and more into a creature that breathes something other than odor. 

It doesn’t take long for you to suit up in your scarf and hat, thick coat ensuring that you won’t be troubled by the unforgiving breeze too much. Still, you talk. You fill in the silence that would otherwise devour Simon. You always do. Humming your songs, sharing your stories—you cut off bits and pieces of you and share it with him, anxiously waiting for him to taste, to see if you’re palatable. 

And he does. Simon savors it. Hands on your shoulders, pulling you closer until his lips are on yours, tongue in your mouth, silencing your rambling, more than content with the flavor. You’re a treat he knows he shouldn’t indulge in, but he’s always had a sweet tooth. 

“Ready, sweetheart?” He’s pulling his balaclava over his face, obscuring his lips, denying himself the only thing he yearns for but knows he doesn’t deserve. 

When you smile, he nearly bites through the fabric to taste you once more.

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[bonniesbluee]

dilf!art who...

who... who is a bit ashamed of himself from how quickly you managed to worm you way into his heart. you were in your mid 20s (around 23-25) and he was in his mid 30s, you were YOUNGER. pure. and that turned him on in a way that made him feel gross.

who... who constantly looks for reassurance that you arent creeped out by him. looking like a kicked puppy whenever he mumbles incoherent words into you neck. "are you embarrassed of me?" he would ask, as if you didnt have thousands of pictures of both of you on your instagram profile, and many more...intimate pictures in your camera roll.

who... who sends you dick or abs pics whenever he's away. he constantly needs you around, so when you're both away from eachother he needs to satisfy himself with your praises. "i cant wait to see you" you would text back, and he's already climaxing at the thought of being inside of you. and on special occasions you send him boob pics, which he has saved in a special folder on his camera roll.

who... who swears you turned him into such a freak. when he was with tashi they beraly had sex. they were both busy with tennis, and he hated asking for it since he didnt want to seem annoying. but since he met you he always wakes up early just to eat you out. or make out with both of your morning breath, or bury his face into your boobs. one time he woke up to your pretty little face against his bicep, you both didnt leave the bed for a good six hours that day.

who... who turned into a more dominant person since he met you. with tashi, she liked to feel in control—which she almost always was—and he liked it, he liked feeling taken care of. but with you? he loves being in charge. manhandling you, chocking, bending, cradling you against him. and he specially loves how you always come to him when you need something. he gets riled up with the simple fact that you are so dependent on him.

who... who has a huge breeding and size kink. with the breeding kink he always gets the urge to just impregnate you. you basically beg for it with the "im coming! im coming! im coming!" cries you let out whenever he's railing you. but he's not stupid obviously, he knows he will need to talk about it with tashi, and specially lily. but the thought of you being full and round with his baby makes life worth the living.

and his size kink gets activated each time you do so much as just hug him or hold your hand. he towers over you, having to crouch ever so slightly to meet your height. and oh, the way your pretty eyes look up at him makes his cock twitch. its a crime how you turn him on with just a simple glance.

who.. who was scared of lily not liking you when you first met. both of you were nervous, specially you. basically trembling beside him as he set you, tashi and lily down. tashi was a sweetheart, but lily was an angel. there was obvious reluctance, but his concerns eased when lily dragged you to her room to brag about her toys.

who... loves carrying you or picking you up randomly. he needs to constantly touch you. from slapping your ass when you pass by him, to cradling you in his arms sfter sex or while you're sleeping, to forcing you to sit on his lap as both of you watch tv. and in public, he will always have his hand in your back pocket or your thighs.

who... who was ashamed of you finding out about his ED. it started with him forcing himself to eat only greens. you were a wonderful cook, but you also ate alot of meat and fast food. he pulled away whenever you did that, not because he didnt like it, but because his mind told him he didnt deserve it. like the sweet angel you were, you noticed. and you were such a breath of fresh air with how you held him, reassured him. and most importantly how you didnt pressure him but instead let him eat how HE wanted slowly, day by day.

who... who is petrified of getting married after divorcing tashi. but you make him CRAVE the feeling of sliding a ring into your finger. already imagining how you would look in your wedding dress, everything leading to and after the wedding. you made him crave being married. to make you his officially.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congratulations on 700 followers Mo 😖💗....I really LOVE reading your fanfics☺️

I was kindly requesting Navy hummingbird and sloth please

Eeeek thank you so much for reading! I hope you like this one! (Honestly? I kind of wrote this with the thought of it being Burning Hearts, my Law series, adjacent.) Needy Law is so cuuuuute!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac x Somnophilia 

WC: 1900

Warnings: oral, sex pollen affects, somnophilia without discussion but let’s assume they have (don’t worry we’re cool!) unprotected sex, p in v sex, prone bone, creampies and breeding baby!

Happy Anniversary, Baby (18+)

— — 

Law was a composed man. Over time, you had managed to worm your way through his hardened exterior to reach his nerdy, compassionate, caring center. Even as he opened up to you, he was still methodical about most things, including sex. He had the motions to make you orgasm down to a science at this point, making sure you were pleased far more than worrying about his own release. He always pulled out. He was the doctor who prescribed your birth control for god’s sake but he insisted on being careful anyway. Even if you begged him to finish inside, he was stubborn. You would never complain about your relationship with Law, he was just the way you liked him. 

Law was up early one morning going over paperwork at his desk. He couldn’t sleep any longer and didn’t want to wake you from your peaceful slumber by tossing and turning, so he decided to get some work done. 

After an hour or so of being engrossed in his work, Law glances at the calendar hanging on his office wall. Todays date had little pink hearts drawn around it in gel pen, by your hand of course. 

“Oh shit.” 

Law had forgotten about your anniversary. 

He had to think of something fast, preferably before you woke up. You were always telling him he worked too much so he couldn’t imagine the ass-chewing he would receive if you found out he forgot your anniversary. 

“Flowers…” He mumbles as he rises from his desk and leaves his office. He headed down the hall to the large closet you had converted into a makeshift greenhouse for your beloved hydroponic garden. 

He rips open the metal door and is hit in the face with moist air and the refreshing smell of greenery. The walls and center of the room were completely covered in carefully curated small plants, vegetables, flowers, and ferns. Law steps in and closes the door behind him. 

“She likes yellow…” Law mutters to himself as he finds himself overwhelmed by all the flowers around him. He was a doctor, not a botanist, he had no idea what any of these plants were so he just decided to choose something in your favorite color. 

He walked up to a large bush on the left side of the room that had unique-looking yellow flowers blossoming all over it. He thought this would be as good as any so he reached out his hand to pluck at the stem of one of the blooms. 

Just as he wrapped his tattooed fingers around the plant, the flower released a puff of yellow pollen right in his face. Law jerks backwards. The particles fly up into his sinuses and causes an uncomfortable tickle. 

“Ah- ACHOO!” Law sneezes violently which triggers the rest of the flowers on the bush to release their own supply of pollen into the air, clouding his vision and irritating his nose further. 

Law covers his face and rubs his eyes, trying to brush any remaining flower pollen off of him. 

“Must be some kind of natural defense mechanism�� fuck that.” Law gripes as he wipes the last remnants of the pollen from his tired face. 

Law catches his breath and chooses to abandon this particular, aggravating plant. He spies a rosebush in the corner of the room. He knows what those are for sure, and as long as he doesn’t prick himself on the thorns, it should be less of a challenge to harvest them. 

Law walks over to the rosebush and begins snipping off the beautiful yellow blossoms, keeping the stems just long enough to put in a vase. Once he had around a dozen roses, he left the greenhouse room to find suitable container for the flowers in the kitchen. 

Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, Law struggles to find anything nice enough for an anniversary bouquet. 

He wipes sweat from his brow and realizes that he’s been having to do it every few moments… why was he so sweaty? Was the boiler on the fritz again? He made a mental note to check the furnace on the ship after he gave you your gift. Law ignores the heat creeping up through him and continues searching the cabinets. 

He is pushing coffee mugs aside just as he notices the warm feeling become even more intense. Sweat was beading at his temples. 

“Fuck…” Law grunts and abandons his quest briefly so he can pour himself a glass of water. He chugs the entire cup in a few gulps and slams it back onto the kitchen counter. His jeans felt tight now. He looks down. His dick was fully hard, straining against the thick fabric of his pants. 

“What the hell…” Law had no idea what was happening to him. He was normally so in control of his faculties, but he now found himself painfully erect for no reason at all. He felt more droplets of sweat trickle down from his scalp to his neck. He grips the countertop and hangs his head, breathing heavily. 

It had to be that plant. He had no other logical explanation for the ache in his crotch and the uneasiness he was feeling in his head. The water didn’t help. He needed your help. You knew everything about the plants in there and would know exactly what to do to make the effects stop. 

Great, Law thought. Not only did he blow off your anniversary, he might have severely injured himself in the process… once again he wins the “Shittiest Boyfriend in the Grand Line” award. You were going to kill him, and at this point Law was so uncomfortable that he would probably let you. He abandons the flowers strewn across the kitchen counter and heads to your shared bedroom, desperate to find a cure to his ailment but also apprehensive of your reaction to his idiocy. 

He pushes open the bedroom door and quietly slips in, so he wouldn’t startle you if you were still sleeping. Before he has a chance to even form the words he wanted to use to explain himself to you, he was stopped in his tracks by your sleeping form. 

You had tossed all the covers off your body since Law had left, and you were laying on your back snoozing peacefully. Arms stretched over your head, Law’s bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with his Jolly Roger was the only article of clothing you had on. You looked so serene, lost in your dreams, little snores escaping your parted dry lips… but Law could only focus on one thing. His t-shirt had ridden up and your thighs were spread, perfectly exposing your naked sex to him. 

Law felt his entire heartbeat in his cock now. Your plump, outer pussy lips looked so delicious, so kissable, and all Law could think about now was burying his tongue in you as you slept. Without thinking, Law unzips his pants and steps out of them when they fall to the floor, hissing as his dick finally has more room to breathe. He was no longer in control of himself, he could almost smell you from across the bedroom. He needed to have you now. 

He shouldn’t! The last of his sanity was pulling at his brain, begging him to just wake you up and ask you how to diffuse the effects of the flower’s pollen… but your naked cunt before him was just too much to resist any longer. 

Still feeling hot, Law strips himself completely, hat included. His hands tremble with need and tension as he tries to delicately settle himself on the bed between your legs, not wanting to wake you up. He would have a small taste and then let you rest… just one little lick…

He couldn’t help it. He immediately latched his whole mouth around your sex and laves his tongue up from the bottom of your hole to the top of your clit. 

“Hnnnhhh…” You whimper and shift in your sleep. 

“Mmmm…” Law groans into your pussy as your sweet taste helps alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling in his body. He can’t help but hump his hard cock into the mattress below the two of you, no doubt leaking pre and staining the sheets. 

Law notices you begin to stir and squirm underneath his touch, so he gently places his hands on your thighs to keep you still while he lapped at your pussy as if he was desperately parched and your body was an oasis. Becoming increasingly aroused, more of your slick leaked out of your hole into Law’s mouth which he greedily slurped up. The familiar flavor of you made his eyes roll back. He needed more. 

Law pushes himself up and positions himself on his knees between your legs. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times harshly before lining himself up with your weeping hole. 

“I’m sorry baby…” Law whispers as he pushes himself into you. 

“Oh…” You sigh and your eyelids start to flutter. 

Without giving you time to wake up, Law sets a punishing pace with his hips and hammers into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce freely underneath Law’s t-shirt and you rub your eyes involuntarily. 

“L-Law?” You sleepily say as you gain consciousness and realize he’s on top of you and balls deep inside of you. You thought you were just having a sex dream but you were shocked to find your partner waking you up with his cock. 

“Needed you now… Had to take you… You looked so fucking good and I just couldn’t stop…” Law grunts out as he thrusts into you with everything he has. 

“Fuck… feels so good…” You whimper out, sleep still heavy in your mind. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ Law huffs out before you feel him press hard into you. You then get the unfamiliar feeling of him shooting a heavy load inside of your walls. 

“D-did you r-really just-“ You stutter. You feel his member still twitching and hard inside of you. 

“Fuck why won’t it go down?” Law grits his teeth. 

“W-what?” Before you had time to question him further, Law picks you up by your waist and man handles you onto your stomach, spreading your legs again to make room for him. He pulls your hips up and presses his dick inside you again, your tender hole seeping white liquid out and coating him. 

“Shit! Law!” You moan as you feel him hit your favorite spot from behind. He picks up a brutal pace as he fucks you. “S-slow down, babe!” You try to push a hand back on his abs to quell his fervor. “I’m gonna-“

“C-can’t… I can’t! Fuck!” Law huffs as he grips your hips impossibly tight, surely leaving marks. You had never seen this animalistic side of your boyfriend and you couldn’t help how much it turned you on. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly for someone who had just woken up. 

“AH!” You yelp into the pillow below you as you cum, hard. 

“Yes baby, this pussy is so fucking good, squeezing me so tight…” 

You were a babbling mess as Law’s heavy thrusts send you into overstimulation. 

“Gotta fucking fill you again, want you to drip for days…”

You whimper in response. 

“Yeah you’re mine baby, all mine… gonna stuff you so fucking good… FUCK-“ Law almost shouts as you feel more hot liquid filling your insides, surely leaking out around his member. 

Law rides out his second orgasm with a few more deep thrusts before he collapses over you and nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades. 

Finally feeling relieved, Law pulls out of you tenderly before flopping on his back next to you on the bed, out of breath. You turn to your side and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Happy Anniversary?” Law says tentatively.

“Happy Anniversary indeed. Was that my present?” You giggle. 

“I cut you some flowers, left them in the kitchen, though.” Law says as he strokes your hair. 

“Wait… what flowers?!” You raise your voice as your head shoots up off his chest. 

xx

Mo

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

꧁⋆°𝓢𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓖𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓒𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼°⋆꧂

Specifically the men :>

Characters: player 001 (in-ho), player 230 (thanos), and player 124 (nam gyu)

Warnings: squid game shit, gn reader, includes general head canons and relationship ones. Some are more toxic than others…. This is also to help understand the characterization I use for the characters in other fics lol

ᎮᏝᏗᎩᏋᏒ 001

- I have few appropriate things to say

- first off, we all know this man has money and thus I feel like he would have a large car collection that he just doesn’t get around to driving

- rarely able to get drunk. Not that he can drink, it just takes a lot to get drunk

- manipulative without even trying. Though he knows danm well what he’s doing it’s effortless for him.

- has no empathy. Or it’s complicated, he has empathy but it’s conditional. He can seem like cares but chances are it won’t last long, and wasn’t very genuine in the first place

- this is random but I think he is a morning person. Not just a normal morning person, a 4 am wake up person. A time he will likely not be bothered, a time he can take his time. Think about all the things he has to do. The planning, the hiding. He finally gets real time to think.

- CLEARLY obsessive. He be staring at gi hun like he want that cookie so damm bad. Season two squid game was built for him practically by in-ho. meticulously. 

- safe to say once he wants something he gets it.

- unfortunately he obviously sees the poor as less than. I think it would take a nearly impossible life changing event for that to change.

Relationship wise:

-evil.

- let’s be so real here, he is not the best choice. Very attractive and silly, but terrible as a person

- he says himself he knows he’s a likable fellow, he’s willing to use that. To worm his way right into your heart. Make you think “wow, how charming” or “man, he’s so kind”. He knows how to use his seemingly harmless nature to root himself in your mind

- will buy you anything. One of his ways of manipulating you. He will yell at you, prioritize his “work” over you, scare you… just to make it up by a luxurious trip where he is finally nice to you. And you think “maybe he’s changed. I’ll give him another chance”

- you don’t even realize how many times you’ve said that.

- it’s not like you have a choice to leave anyway. He’s possessive. If you were to leave him, he wouldn’t let you. If you manage to get away he’s finding you and dragging you back. He will have you until he can’t anymore, you do not have much of a say. He’s woven himself deeply in your life.

- has his people watch out for you and protect you. Has people Solve problems for you before you recognize there is one. And you never even know

- let’s you sit on his lap while he watches the games.

- you have no friends, rarely talk to family, your life is basically his. And you have to be okay with that (or not)

- all his workers know you and you have full access to whatever you like (as long as it’s not interfering or messing up anything he has planned

-he work would probably come before you. Not to say he doesn’t care…. Just he has weird priorities

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 230

- my dear thanos. Where do I begin

- clearly he has a drug problem. Serious pill addiction.

- goes into public absolutely GEEKIN off who knows what and insists no one can tell (they can)

- tried to be a plug but kept arguing abt prices with his clients so they stopped buying…

- as a famous rapper you know he has bitch AND hoes. A player who leaves a trail of broken hearts. Women and men bc I say so

- and also he just gives that vibe

- can’t manage money. Even when he wasn’t in debt bro cannot keep his dabloons in line. Drugs don’t help with that

- physically pretty strong. He can fight but it’s not like he’s gonna win every time

- actually really passionate about music. It truly means a lot to him and he worked for it. However over years he’s gotten frustrated with never having true privacy as a non celebrity would

Relationship wise:

- contrary to how I see people write him I personally think he wouldn’t be as mean in a relationship as some of the others

-and I think he would actually value you.

- I think he’d be pretty respectful with the ladies. He clearly appreciates a pretty girl.

- respectful might be a stretch. I mean verbally he wouldn’t like say crazy vulgar things. Nah he’d call you “flower” like that one girl or something

- he might be a bit rougher with the fellas out there. He’s pretty handy with his “bros” I’ll tell you that much.

- would write songs for and about you. They’d be cringe… in a nice way. Stupidest title and lyrics but hey! He made it just for you :3

- pre debt he’d definitely spoil you. Post losing all his money you’ll have to compromise. He sucks at telling you no so if you ask for something he might just steal it.

- people try to say he’d try to keep you from his drugs. I don’t think so. Realistically you’d probably end up doing some illegal substances with him

- might cheat in the early stages. Let’s be real. Those famous boys are almost never loyal. Butttt I think after he wouldn’t. Threaten to leave and he will see he really needs you

- never said he was perfect <3

ᏢᏝᎯᎽᎬᏒ 124

- MY SHAYLAAAA. Idc so many ppl hate him. I know, he’s objectively terrible. However I don’t care I think he’s silly so there

- another addict. Honestly heavier than thanos. He’s tried nearly everything under the sun. However as shown in show, herion is his vice.

- he’s a shady night club worker so I’d say he could probably fight.

- I see him as an introvert 90% of the time u til he’s around a close friend. He seems like he has some sort of manners and keeps to himself until he met thanos. And even then he didn’t really talk (nicely) to anyone else besides min-su (sometimes)

- can clock a bitch like no other. Will read you to filth. Be prepared to gain new insecurities around him

- seems like a cat guy. I feel it in my soul he pets every stray cat ever.

- has jitters. Be it he’s anxious, thinking, happy, or withdrawling his hands are constantly on the move.

- laughs at nothing. Do not do anything amusing in the area if something even slightly serious is happening. He’s ruining the mood and will not stop giggling abt it after.

- he does the sweater paws. Not a head canon just a viable fact but it needs to be said. Yes I know he’s a grown man with a dick and balls but it’s very baby girl of him

- has quite the violent streak. Was probably the worst bully in highschool. I can smell the semester suspension radiating from him

- would do probably anything for some drugs. Like anything. He’s seen and done some shit.

Relationship wise

- MY SHAYLAAAA

-evil lowkey

- he’s definitely difficult because he’s always on some H and it actually can make you more aggressive.

- still cares though I swear it’s just harder for him

- touchy asf. Constantly playing with your hands, poking your face, touching your hair. Bro MUST touch.

- possessive and jealous type. Will lash out about it. Or just start being mean to the people you talk to.

- kinda about that life. Because he’s in the night club scene he has definitely witnessed some real gang shit. Maybe even participated

- will protect you if you’re walking out in the street.

- has moments at night where he’s genuinely calm and able to talk about normal things. Not worried about work, scared about money, itching from drugs. Just him and you.

- you’re his safe area. Shit goes wrong he comes to you. He had a bad day? He’s coming to you. Bad trip? He’s with you.

- will care for you if you are going through a bad trip too. Or just scared, he gets it.

- kinda toxic sorry not sorry

- clearly a selfish guy, wants what he wants and tries to take it. He manipulates with saying cruel things with an angles smile. Might yell at you, lash out, etc. probably wouldn’t hit you though

- but he cares. In his weird, clingy, mean for no reason but doesn’t mean it way. He will stick with you. You both will yell and scream and cry at each other but at the end of every day you lay in each others arms. Very much a “us against the world” type relationship.

Yeah that’s all. This should help elaborate on future things I will write mwah ha ha.

[lexirosewrites]

Some Marijuana thoughts on this fine 4/20

I think it's rlly hard to get away with having weed on u in omegaverse bc I mean tht stuff smells strong to ur average real world human nose, imagine trying to get weed passed ur parents or a cop when everyone has such a strong sense of smell they can all pick out individual notes of a person's natural musk

Because of this I theorize A!Eddie would sell out of the back his van upon occasion & since he already has a scent just left of marijuana he has managed to get away w carrying a joint or 2 on his person from time to time

The busiest time for his drug dealing is obviously the days leading up to tht most sacred of pothead holidays April 20th especially because he refuses to sell anything or meet up w anyone for a deal the day of. Because here's the thing barely anyone knows: Eddie's birthday is April 20th

Usually he'll wake up day of as late as he wants & if Wayne isn't working they have a late pancake breakfast but if Wayne is working the old man always leaves a covered plate of pancakes just for Eddie. Then from there Eddie will either spend the day w Wayne or take himself out somewhere w his hard earned drug money. If Wayne isn't working the old man will even share half a joint w Eddie at 4:20pm, otherwise Eddie will usually find one or all of the Corroded Coffin guys.

...

April 20th 1987 however finds Eddie in a farmhouse not far from the Byers old place (which is just a short drive from the Hopper-Byers newly renovated cabin) paid for courtesy of Uncle Sam. Eddie had missed his 21st because he'd been in a medically induced coma till the end of May 1986.

Vecna was dead, Max hadn't died temporarily but still lost much of her vision & mobility, the Byers family moved back, & Jim Hopper was chief of police again thanks to government goons fabricating a story abt him going undercover for them. Eddie got all charges dropped, was exonerated, & even got a formal apology from both the police department & the mayor. The feds had to do little to spin a good cover story, what w Nancy Wheeler kicking off his alibi managing to implicate the now dead Jason Carver & a fictitious Pennhurst escapee as a team of killers. She'd played into the weird devil worshipping hysteria currently gripping the country & a small(ish) towns need for the occasional tragedy.

Wayne had used up all of his sick & vacation time sitting by Eddie's bedside then helping Eddie relearn how to move his body, the alpha could tell the old beta felt guilty abt missing his 22nd birthday but Eddie reassured him he'd b fine. Sure the band was bust what w all of the guys families practically flying them all out of Hawkins after the earthquake but Eddie mentioned the classmates tht had kept him safe while he was on the run.

Wayne seemed mollified & it didn't matter Eddie had no plans to call up any sort of last minute birthday celebration.

He rlly should have known better. Especially when it came to Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Jonathan Byers, Argyle Garcia, & Nancy Wheeler. The other older members of the group had all wormed their way into helping Eddie in one way or another; Nancy all but threatened the principal w one of her guns to get him his diploma, Robin rambled at him when music only made his hands shake worse, Argyle shared his stash of stellar California weed, Jon was good at sitting quietly when Eddie needed company without noise, and Steve... the omega was almost always there helping & Eddie's alpha instincts were starting to get the wrong idea. Steve helped Eddie w his physical therapy when Wayne had to start going back to work, he cooked the pair of Munson bachelor's dinner more than three times a week, and he even did chores a guest in their new home shouldn't have to. Eddie wanted to croon & chirp & purr all over Steve.

Eddie Munson was falling in love with Steve Harrington & it was the easiest thing he'd ever done, easier than blinking.

Morning of April 20th 1987 dawned upon an Eddie Munson who was bolting awake from a nightmare he immediately couldn't recall beyond the feeling of unease pounding through his body. His bedside clock read 6am on the dot.

He wallowed for a moment before the need to use the bathroom was unavoidable, he grabbed his cane (he thought he'd need the wheelchair or the walker everyday, but nope only needed for bad days) & made his way to the bathroom at the end of the short hallway only to hear the sounds of someone in the kitchen. Then talking voices so multiple someone were in his kitchen. A few laughs ring out & just like tht Eddie knew who was in his house.

He made his way into archway to the kitchen to find Steve cooking pancakes so perfect they belonged in a diner, B!Robin was apparently designated the chocolate chip sprinkling squire, B!Jonathan was using a new polaroid camera Steve had gotten him for Christmas to document the breakfast brigade, & A!Nancy was at the kitchen table with A!Argyle rolling what looked like number 8 in a small but quickly growing line up of joints. There seemed to be some sort of system tht organized the weed.

The excited chirp Nancy let out when she was the first to notice Eddie got everyone's attention & Jonathan snapped a polaroid of him leaning against the archway gobsmacked.

Then the air was full of explanations of how exactly the entire young adults crew had gotten to Hawkins; Argyle & Jon had driven from San Francisco with bags of California weed hidden within the van, Nancy had driven from Boston since before the sun came up, Robin & Steve lived down the road in a little yellow & blue house they jointly bought w hard earned hush money. Throughout all of the tales was a common thread: Steve had known Eddie was going to likely b alone all day on his 22nd birthday & had contacted the remaining 3 young adults.

Eddie was no longer falling, he was fully in love with Steve Harrington.

(Part 1 of 2?)

Eddie’s bday being on 4/20 is both hilarious and so sad??😭

[barnesbabes]

early bird gets the worm

pairing: Joel Miller x gender neutral reader

summary: Joel was always an early riser, but on the rare occasion that he slept in, you had to take advantage of the moment.

warnings: fluff! tooth rotting fluff!

You could feel the sunlight creeping over your face. You stretched your arms out and above you, trying to shake the sleep from your muscles. You reached next to you, expecting to feel the empty pillow but you were met with Joel's muscled back. You sat up, but not to abrupt, not wanting to let the slightest move wake him. It was extremely unlikely for him to sleep past you, but you knew you had to take advantage of this moment.

As quietly as you could slither out without alerting Joel, you made your way down to the kitchen. You pulled out the ingredients, eggs, bread, and veggies. You had planned in your head to make him an omelet, something he would never make time to make for himself. Thats just who he was, a selfless guy who constantly put others before himself. That's probably why he had had been tired enough to sleep in. Maria had been working him constantly, trying to figure out new housing settlements for the people Jackson was taking in. Not to mention also going on patrols when he could manage it. You always told him, "You need to learn when to say no" or "You're not getting any younger!". But that is one of many reasons why you had fallen for him, the way he cared for those around him. It was your turn to repay him for all of those breakfasts in bed he had served you.

You knelt down and reached in a cabinet where you had been hiding a surprise just for a day like this. You knew that because of Joel's old man knees, he would have never looked down here. You pulled out the brown paper bag filled with the freshest coffee beans that could've been found. You ground them up in a mortar and pestle and placed them into the coffee filter before turning the machine on.

As the room had slowly become enclosed with the morning glow, the smell of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee filled the air. It had wafted through the house and slithering into the bedroom, finally hitting Joel's nose. He had immediately reached over for you, surprised to not find you in bed next to him. He sat himself up and slipped on the t-shirt he had been wearing the night before.

You heard the stairs creaking as Joel made his way down the stairs to meet you. You pretended like you weren't smiling ear to ear, waiting for his reaction to the beautiful spread in front of him. You kept working at the dishes, despite hearing his footsteps against the wood floors. You felt his arms snake around your waist as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

"You weren't in bed this morning, darlin'."

"Well, good morning to you too, sleepy head."

Despite being pressed against the sink, you turned around to look up at him. His sleepy eyes and sly smile pulled you right in. Before he could even respond, you had pulled him in for a soft kiss. He pulled you closer, grabbing at your hips to pull you in. Before the omelet could become cold, you pulled away from him, patting his chest.

"Cool it cowboy, I have something for you."

You smirked and slipped from his arms as you had pulled him to the dining room table, where his plated omelet was awaiting. You pulled his chair out for him; a smile tugged on your lips as he grinned like you just gave him a million dollars. He looked at you with such adoration and surprise, your hard work paid off.

"Thank you, darlin' this looks delicious."

You had almost forgot the most important part of the meal, his beloved coffee.

"Don't thank me yet!"

You called as you slid to grab his favorite mug, the one with an owl on it, and fill it with his second true love, fresh coffee. You called for him to close his eyes, as if the smell wasn't tickling his nose as you placed it down in front of him. He opened his eyes and could only help but look at you. He took a small sip from it, ignoring its hot sensation against his lips. It looked like he simply crumbled in his seat.

"So.. is it as good as you remember?"

"Darlin', it is better than I ever could have imagined. I love you."

"I love you, Joel."

You reached for his hand as you sat next to him. You both began to eat, Joel continuously complimenting your cooking skills. Food really was the way to this man's stomach.

"If you cook like this, maybe I should sleep in more often."

"In your dreams, cowboy."

[cloversnstrawberries]

oc intro post ! ! young!serial killer grandpa & time traveler reader

masterlist | requests open !

warnings; Mentions of violence, murder, serial killings, Everett's superiority/god complex, misanthropy (hatred of the human race), manipulation, possessive behavior, mental instability, and there might be more that i forgot :( if i missed a major one, please let me know and i'll add it !!!

additional notes; i read "garden of the dead flowers" a while back (in which i totally did the daily pass thing. yeah. totally!), and i thought it had a lot of potential for a platonic yan,, i didn't like the ending much for other reasons, but i'm fixing it here. with my oc. as god intended, of course. of course, if you're familiar with the webcomic at all, this isn't really that similar; except for the very core basis ^^ this is the option that won the second poll :D

! ! introduction blurb & moodboard below the cut ! !

Everett has met a lot of people before, that's just how it is, being the son of a wealthy businessman and a socialite. He's met a lot of strange people as well, eccentric people that makes Everett need a double-take.

But none quite so strange as you, who simply... showed up in the back garden one day. You were disoriented, wearing odd clothes as you patted around your pockets for... something. A handkerchief, maybe?

Either way, you'd be an easy kill. He'd never seen you around before, perhaps a runaway then. Nobody would miss you, in that case. And If they did, then they'd have a difficult time tracing you all the way to Everett's backyard.

But something made that train of thought stop before it even fully departed. Something about you made him hesitate, and subsequently approach and offer you help. To pull you up, dazed as you were, and help you into the sitting room.

You continued to be quite out of it, and when he returned, tea in hand-- you took it without question. You hadn't said a word, not to him or otherwise. All you did was look around, face pinched like you trying to figure something out.

By the end of it, Everett isn't quite sure what made him take such a liking to you. When you opened up, you tripped over your words-- you sounded funny, regardless of that. Saying words and phrases he's never heard, but he didn't pay much mind to that.

Regardless of your little verbal stumbles, you ended up telling him that you 'don't know how you got here', which he assumed you meant the town in general, or maybe just his backyard specifically.

The first conversation he genuinely held with you, you would always give these nonsensical answers that provided no more knowledge than before. When he asked "Where are you from?" You'd respond with "Not here.", or how you got here-- you'd always pause, and try to think it over before finally settling on "...I don't know."

Amnestic, maybe? That's what he could make of it, anyways. Other than your dazed behavior, you showed no real signs of a concussion. He set you up in a guest room-- and he doesn't know what makes him do it. Even as you wake up the next morning, no longer so confused--

Usually, he wouldn't really like people like you. Those who treat him so casually, those who treat everybody like that; like they were everybody's pal. It irked Everett to no end before,

So why is it different when you do it? With your strange words, strange habits, and even stranger way of dress-- what's got him so interested in you?

What sets you apart of his usual fare--? He could go and argue that he helped you recover so he could add you to his roster of victims, because he's not one for kicking someone when their down...

But he couldn't even fool himself with that lie. Really, he doesn't know why or how you managed to worm your way into his good graces so quickly-- enough where he let you stay in his home for the time being.

He could be harboring a runaway, either from a family or maybe even if the law. That could put him in risk, if cops come looking for you-- find his home, found evidence of what he does in and around it.

Again, it's just something about you... It makes it impossible to even think of driving a knife straight through your heart. What would be easy for him with everyone else, was like fighting an uphill battle when it came to you.

Either way, he's not letting you go now. Not after week of getting to know you-- after getting you new clothes to help fit in, getting his parents to make the school take you as a student. Just so you didn't have to sit and rot in that big house all day, of course.

He won't let you outside the grounds. Maybe because he doesn't want his new friend taken, the only person that's been entirely immune to his constant need to hurt others-- either by yourself, or anyone who's looking for you.

But he doesn't tell you that. He says he just wants to make sure you're healthy and not about to keel over from an untreated brain injury and whatnot.

Everett has grown quite fond of you, even if you're a little strange.

Maybe it's because you're so strange, that you're exempt from his usually unforgiving drive to prey on others, and rip them limb from limb like they were bugs under a microscope.

[tragedybunny]

Sunlight and Stars in the Sky part 2 - Astarion x F!Reader

First part - here

Weary and embarrassed you try to put distance between yourself and Astarion. But you slowly come to realize things are changing between the two of you.

Astarion is gone when you wake up, probably out hunting, and you breathe a sigh of relief. At least you won't be able to embarrass yourself further. Throwing yourself at him, being refused by him of all people, forcing him to let you into his tent to calm down, and that nonsense you'd spouted, gods he must've been so annoyed with you. 

All he wanted from you was a bit of fun, some enjoyable interludes during this journey you'd found yourselves on. You weren't so naive that you thought there was more to it. Yet he'd somehow found a little place in your heart. Which you had stupidly exposed to him last night with that stars in the sky drivel. If he kept his distance from now on, you'd know why. 

Head pounding from the wine, you fumble around for your boots. Slipping them on, you hurry back to your tent, and throw yourself under the covers, glad you didn't run into Astarion. The rest of the night is filled with fitful sleep, the drink making you nauseous and your memories driving you almost to tears. When the sun at last rises, the camp awakens muted and somber. Unable to face him, you wait until the scent of breakfast fills the air to finally leave your tent. 

Naturally he's somehow right there. "Good morning Darling," even he seems muted after everything, probably worried you'll be all over him again, "feeling better?"

"A little, sorry for the trouble last night," you murmur hastily, trying not to look at him before rushing off, unable to make yourself listen to his conciliatory response. 

Breakfast and breaking camp take far longer than they should and your solemn crew takes to the road that leads beyond the monastery to the shadow cursed lands much later than they should. As seems to be your fate though, not even a simple road is easy, and a group of undead bar the way. Body and mind aching, you fumble through the fight, spells missing their target, and reactions slowed. You don’t see the monster that’s crept up on you until it’s nearly too late to dodge its flailing attack. Suddenly the earth lurches and you’re facing the dirt. Panic constricts your chest, death is so close, even all you managed to overcome wasn't enough. Rolling, you try to get your feet under you, and find your assailant hovering over you. Your lungs inhale what is likely your final breath and you tense just a crossbow bolt sprouts from its forehead. It stumbles back and Karlach’s axe removes its head from its body. 

Most of the gory sight is blocked from your view as Astarion appears over you, crossbow back over his shoulder, pale hand outstretched and brow furrowed. “Are you alright my Dear?”

You wince and take his hand, twice as humiliated as before. Reaching a sitting position, you stop, your body unwilling to go further. Everything from the Nautiloid, to the Creche, to making a fool of yourself, bears down on you, and it’s all too much. One win at the Grove amongst a tide of wounding losses. Hands rub at your eyes to push away the tears. “Sweetheart,” Astarion is suddenly crouching next to you, brushing your hair out of your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, pulling away from that touch that you want to be real affection so badly. 

“You look exhausted.” Before you can protest, he’s turning to the rest of the group. “We should stop for the night.”

“Tsk'va, we’ve barely made progress,” Lae’zel snaps, any good humor she's developed gone for the moment, “we still have worms in our head, did you forget that whilst basking in the sun.” 

His eyes narrow for a moment, and he looks like he’ll shout back, but he contains it. “We’ve all had a hard time, and we’re in rough shape. Let’s get some rest and start fresh in the morning.” 

They don’t need to be told he’s talking about you, collapsed in the dirt, and you can feel their eyes turn on you. “That sounds eminently reasonable," Gale chimes in and the rest assent.

"Let's go find a nice spot," Karlach says brightly, taking Wyll by the hand and leaving the main road. 

The others follow in their wake until just the two of you are left. Reluctantly, you start to get your feet under you, feeling as weary as he says you were, and silently start off towards them. The crunch of his boots tell you Astarion is just behind you, a small mercy as he can't see the state you're in. Your chest aches, you can't seem to banish the tears that keep threatening, and nothing feels like it has a point anymore. When you catch up with the others, they're already setting camp for the night, with Gale prepping dinner with as much cheer as he can muster and the others barely speaking at all. The whole of it seems like too much and you collapse on a log near the fire, Astarion joining you seconds later. 

Shifting closer, he looks like he's about to speak when the sounds of an argument draws your attention and he just sighs instead. "The Underdark is backtracking, a waste of time and dangerous." Lae’zel is shouting at Shadowheart. 

"Well it might deter the interference of your people," she returns.

"That is a point, this road is already dangerous," Halsin chimes in. 

"What do you think," Wyll has wandered over from setting up his tent and turned to you. For the second time today, your whole group is looking to you, only this time they're expecting that leadership you've shown them this whole journey. 

"I…" you just can't find it in you.

"Gods," Astarion growls, "can you all not make one simple decision without her? She's tired and you're putting this on her. It's bad enough you expect her help solving all your petty problems."

"But it's fine if it's your petty problems, right Astarion," Gale accuses, his face dark. You know his problem is far from petty. 

"Say that again," Astarion hisses and does something you've never seen him do to one of your companions, he snarls and bares his fangs. 

"Astarion," you scold, stirred from your stupor finally and he gives you a wounded look. "Let's just get some dinner in everyone. Then we can discuss the Underdark." They need you, it would hardly do to give up now. 

"Right, you heard the lady, give her some space until dinner is done," Karlach waves them off and gives you a wink. 

Part of you expects Astarion to be angry with you for the reproach but instead he gently takes your hands in his. "How about I get the tent set up, you can rest before dinner. Or you could stay there the whole night, you don't owe them an answer." 

The tent, your mind reels. It's his tent and he's never been fond of anyone infringing on his space. Is he still feeling sorry for you? You cringe, and pull your hands from his. "I can stay in my own tent."

"Oh," he seems to shrink in on himself. "I had been wondering since you were gone when I got back last night. Did I do something wrong? I admit I'm new to having someone close like that.” His voice is quiet and unsure, and nothing like what you’re used to. “Or maybe it's my temperature, I know I'm not exactly very warm," he offers and laughs somewhat awkwardly.

"I just don't want to…" For the first time today, you really look at him, and you don't see the same Astarion you've been traveling with. His eyes are wide and soft, his expression full of hope and longing and not scorn for the world around him. You find his hands where you left them, as though waiting for yours. Something has changed, something that makes your heart flutter and chases away the darkness of your thoughts. You were going to say pretend; pretend he wanted you there, pretend you didn't make an idiot out of yourself; but that doesn't feel right anymore. "Impose," you slide your hands back into his and small smile ghosts over his features. 

"Love, I told you last night, you're not imposing. Well you were very drunk," a small kiss on your cheek makes you flush, “perhaps you don’t remember.” 

“Some rest is probably a good idea,” you admit, giving in to the ethereal moment that seems to be burgeoning between the two of you. 

He squeezes your hands before letting them go. “I told you so,” his usual smirk is back in place but it’s softer than before. 

While he’s gone you try to temper yourself, this could be temporary, and you should focus on your very grim situation, your losses and setbacks are still real. But it all vanishes the moment he’s leading you back to the tent and settling you into a pile of pillows and blankets, some of them from your own supplies. Your things, mingled with his, the two of you, joined together. With your approval very visible from the smile you can't hide, he joins you, pulling you into his arms so your head rests against his chest. From around the fire you hear voices, friendly banter, spirits are lifting, hope is prevailing. You’re glad but still so tired, and it’s so nice here with Astarion, a little peace for just the two of you. “Thank you, I really needed this,” you murmur sleepily. 

“Think nothing of it, my Sunlight,” he kisses the top of your head. 

It brings back the other night, but there’s no awkwardness for you now, you spoke true, no matter what happens from now on, he’ll always be the light of all your nights, the beauty out of darkness. “My Starry Sky.” 

He gives a small hum of approval, “I am growing fond of that nickname,” and he holds you tighter. There’s a note of sadness you think in his voice, but you’re almost asleep, maybe you imagined it. 

[bunnliix]

The Invisible Strings that Bind Us - Chapter Seven

We have a bunch of cute interactions between y/n and the boys this chapter, so buckle up my lovelies! Prepare for the fluffy moments!

a/n: I am writing this while I am almost 3k words in, and I haven't even finished off one bullet point of my outline for this chapter, this is gonna be a long one haha

a/n 2: 4.4k words in now, still have a bunch more to go, strap in everyone, this is a looong ride

masterlist

word count: 5.5k

warnings: Fluff, anxiety and worries from y/n, petnames galore, I think that's it honestly

Y/n was the first of the three to wake up, finding that she was trapped between the two men, two of her soulmates, she reminded herself. Their arms were wrapped tightly around her, and she slowly tried to worm her way out of their hold. It took her a few tries before she was successful, getting the two men to hold each other instead of holding her. As she softly stepped out of bed, she was unaware that one of them had woken up, eyes opening up to see that the woman in between them had disappeared. 

She slipped out of the dancer’s room, as a pair of eyes watched her do so, before focusing back on his sleeping soulmate, deciding to let her wander as there was no danger in doing so. They didn’t have to be awake for another couple of hours, since it was only a studio day, which usually meant that it would be a longer day, but not as strenuous on their body. It also meant that it would only really be themselves and a couple staff members in the studio with them, so they wouldn’t have to worry about any of their managers showing up. 

Y/n softly walked out into the living room, finding no one out there, and so she quietly sat down on the couch, pulling out her phone and scrolling tumblr, because yes, she’s a tumblr girlie. She got absorbed into her phone, not noticing how much time had passed until someone’s head found a spot in her lap. She flinched, not expecting it, and looked past her phone to find Felix’s face looking up at her, contentedness reflected in his eyes as he gazed up at her. 

“Good morning.” She spoke softly, smiling down at him.

“Good morning, baby.” He replied to her, smiling back at her, hand moving to squeeze her thigh.

His action made her whine, before she realized what she did and slapped a hand over her mouth, as if it would make the sounds stop coming out of her mouth. He chuckled looking up at her, his eyes darkening after hearing the sound caused by his actions. 

“You okay there cutie?” He teased her.

“I-I’m fine.” She said, trying to reassure herself more than him, a blush clear as day on her face.

“Are you sure about that?” He questioned.

Y/n moved to hide her face in her hands, unable to look at the freckled man anymore. Felix chuckled, but backed off, this wasn’t the time or place to tease his newest soulmate. Though he was glad to see how easily flustered she got, it’s adorable really.

Their alone time is interrupted by Seungmin creeping out into the main area, a grin on his face at finding the two of them. 

“Oh? Did I interrupt something?” He said, with a teasing lilt in his voice.

Y/n groaned, continuing to hide her face from both men. 

“Seungmin, please go away.” She told the younger man.

“Hmmm, nope.” He replied, smirking.

She sunk into the couch more, wanting to disappear at that moment. Thankfully Jeongin’s appearance in the living room diverted Seungmin’s attention away from her, saving her from his reign of terror. 

Felix looked up at her, a bit of concern shining in his eyes. “Did either of us go too far? I’m sorry if we did, I’ll make sure we don’t cross any more lines.” He said.

“It’s okay Felix, neither of you went too far. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” She answered him.

He nodded, moving to sit up on the couch, moving her legs so he could sit, before pulling them back over his lap. He pulled out his own phone, starting to scroll TikTok by the sounds coming from his device. She went back to her Tumblr scrolling, the two of them happy to coexist in silence.

Meanwhile, the two youngest had stopped conversing, looking over at two of their soulmates, smiling at how comfortably y/n was getting around them. Jeongin snapped a photo of the two, that he planned to send later, once they weren’t the only ones awake. They took a seat at the table, softly conversing about their own upcoming schedules and about things they were looking forward to doing. 

This peace lasted for another 45 minutes, before Han came stumbling out into the main area, a more composed Minho following behind. Han moved to collapse on top of the two laying on the couch, groans being heard from their smallest soulmate.

“Han, you’re heavy. Get off of us.” Felix complained, a groan in agreement coming from y/n.

“Yah! I want to cuddle with my soulmates and all I get is complaints? Rude.” Han retorted.

“There’s ways to cuddle your soulmates, without crushing them.” Maura managed to get out, being crushed by the silver haired rapper.

“I see how it is.” Han pouted, getting off of them and the couch.

“Han, I like being cuddled, but not when it involves getting crushed beneath under person.” Y/n told him.

“Crushing is part of the fun.” The rapper whined.

“Babe, it’s really not.” She said, sighing but secretly giggling at how cute his whining was.

Han eeped at the pet name, not expecting it, turning around so his reaction couldn’t be seen. Minho chuckled at Han, thinking it was cute how much of an effect their newest soulmate had on him already. 

“We have a recording day today, in the studio.” Minho reminds everyone, but mostly it was for y/n’s benefit, so that she knew of the plans for today.

“Recording day? Are you recording a new album?” Y/n asked the lead dancer.

“We’re recording S-Class today. The title track for the upcoming comeback.” Han chimed in. He was excited to get in the studio, it was always fun on recording days, if not a tiny bit stressful.

“What Han said.” Minho answered her. 

“Ohhh, that’s cool!” She said, excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, and you’re coming with us today.” Felix informed her, the boys having talked about it last night while she slept.

“Oh? Is that okay?” She asked, unsure after the previous day’s activities.

“The staff doesn’t get an opinion on if it’s okay or not. We want you there, so you’re gonna be there with us.” Chan said, to the surprise of everyone as they didn’t hear the leader come in.

Felix moved her legs off of his lap so he could get up, and he bounced over to Chan, hugging the older Australian, who hugged him back right away. 

“Good morning Lix. Did you sleep well?” He asked, looking down at the man in his arms. 

“I did!” He said as he smiled.

“Well, we have about 45 minutes before we have to leave, in order to get to the company in time.” He reminded everyone. 

This made everyone jump into action, including y/n, though there wasn’t much for her to do. Chan came over to sit next to her, having been ready prior to coming over. 

“So you know that you’re going to be there with us today, and you can tell me right now if you’d rather be here instead. But I, and the others, would really like you to be there, to see more of what we do. We all want you to be a part of our lives, and we want to be a part of yours, if you’ll let us.” He said, looking her in the eyes, his sincerity clearly seen in his expression.

She looked at him with wonder and love in her eyes. Sure, she had loved Chan and the rest of Stray Kids prior to all of this, what Stay didn’t? But she was falling in love with him, and the rest of the boys, her boys, her soulmates. She wanted to go to work or school, and then come back home to them, to spend the rest of her life with them. She just wanted to be with them, no matter the circumstances. 

“I’d love to go with you all, but you’re sure I won’t get in the way?” She asked the Aussie.

“There’s no way you could get in the way, and honestly, I think all of the boys would focus better with you there. They have to impress you somehow, yeah?” He said, chuckling to himself.

“I don’t think I need to be impressed, but sure.” She said, giggling.

“They think differently, but you have to go get ready.” He told her, before calling out, “Felix! Babygirl’s gonna need to borrow more of your clothes for the day!” 

A muffled response from the other Aussie was heard, before Chan pulled her off of the couch and towards Felix’s bedroom. 

“You good for her to come in, mate?” He asked, and received a yes from behind the door.

Chan opened the door, pushing y/n inside, telling her he’d see her soon, before leaving her alone in the room with Felix for the second day in a row.

She barely had time to process everything, brain still trying to deal with Chris calling her babygirl, and that she’d get to see the boys in their element today as well.

“Okay, sunshine, I have two outfit options for you.” Felix said as he emerged from his closet, an outfit in each hand. One was more casual than the other, and that’s the option she picked, not knowing exactly how long they’d be at the company. 

Felix left her to change, and she quickly did so, not knowing how much time they had left. He returned when she had finished changing, whistling at her when he saw her in his clothes.

“You really do suit my clothing, don’t you?” He said, a grin plastered on his face. “I’ll have to get a couple pieces for you, or you can continue to steal mine, I don’t mind either way sunshine.” He said.

Y/n blushed, she was still not used to all the petnames, nor wearing other’s clothes. She nodded, not finding the words to answer Felix, who just chuckled at her, finding her increasingly cuter by the hour.

“Come on, if you’re done, then we should head out to the living room.” He told her, reaching out for her hand and leading her back into the main area of the dorm. 

They were the last two to arrive, and all eyes were on them, well really just her. They were of one mind, only thinking about how cute she looked in Felix’s clothes. They would have to give her some of their own, so that she didn’t only have to wear the freckled man’s clothing. That wasn’t jealousy speaking, definitely not, they denied, but really, that’s all it was. They didn’t want only Felix to dress her up, they wanted that chance too.

We’re all ready to leave?” Chan addressed them all.

“I think y/nnie just needs to get some stuff, right?” Minho spoke up, knowing that she hadn’t had time to gather anything she wanted to bring.

“Go on and get what you need then, okay?” Chan smiled at her, and she went down the hall to Minho’s room to grab the few things she had. 

Minho followed behind her, almost treating her as a tinier version of Han or Felix, which in his mind, she really was. He leaned against his door frame, watching her gather what she wanted to take, chuckling when she turned around and jumped at seeing him.

“Yah, you scared me!” She said as she pouted and glared at the older man. 

“I didn’t mean to.” He said, still slightly chuckling at her. 

She huffed, pushing past him and walking down the hall, though he quickly caught up to her. He grabbed her hand, taking the lead and pulling her to the entryway, seeing as everyone else had already headed down to the vans. He pulled out both pairs of their shoes, and once they both were ready to leave, he opened the door for her and they both quickly made their way downstairs and out of the building, where y/n was pulled into the maknae line’s van, as Lino was pulled into the other van by Changbin.

The journey between their building and JYP was short, which meant there wasn’t much time for the boys to cause chaos. The boys mostly chatted about how they were excited to show her the studio properly this time, but also that they’d be recording the song in a larger studio so that they all, plus a couple staff members, could be there comfortably. Han was simultaneously excited for and dreading the recording session. He was anxious about y/n seeing their work for the first time, and hoped that she’d like it. 

Plus, she’d have to sign an NDA before they could do anything. Han knew that their fearless leader had been on the phone for hours about it, and had made sure that the contract covered only what was needed. He’d be going with y/n to sign the NDA regardless, to make sure their staff hadn’t switched it out last minute.

The maknae van had arrived after the hyung line’s van, so Chan was there waiting for them as the van pulled up to the company. Y/n got out first, and Chan reached out to grab her, as the rest of the boys got out of the van as well, letting them go ahead into the building, while the two of them strolled behind. 

“Before you can go into the studio with us, you have to sign an NDA about our work and the group.” He informed her, to which she needed.

“That makes sense, and I assume you’re my guide to go sign it?” She asked him, tilting her head up at the man.

“Yes, but I’ll also be there to make sure that it only covers what I told them it should cover.” He said, not trusting the staff after yesterday’s incident.

“Oh, okay.” She said, not sure what else to say.

He quickly ushered her to the elevator, wanting to get her in to sign it, so they could head to the studio. Their journey upstairs was quick, for which Chan thanked the universe, and they entered the office where she was to sign the NDA. When a member of the staff and one of the legal team passed over the NDA, Chan quickly took a look through it, making sure it was the same one he negotiated with them last night. It was, to his relief, and he leaned close to his soulmate, whispering to her that she could sign it, but to read through it herself before she did so.

Y/n took his advice, reading through the entire contract, asking Chan or the legal team member for clarification on certain parts. In the end, she understood what it was saying, and she signed where she was required to, and then Chan wrapped his arm around her waist, leading her out of the room and towards the practice room.

She let him lead, she wasn’t sure where she was going, but she knew Chan wouldn’t take her anywhere but the studio. They went down a floor, heading down a long hallway before Chan opened the door to the studio, the others calling out to greet the last two they were waiting on. 

“You made it! Welcome to where magic happens!” Changbin welcomed y/n into the room, and roused a round of giggles from the younger boys.

“That sounded dirty, Binnie-hyung.” Felix told the older man, in between his laughs. 

The rapper blushed, before playfully tackling the boy on the couch, Hyunjin getting involved as well, as a casualty.

“Okay, enough playing around, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Chan interrupted, not wanting the boys to get too off track before they even started recording. 

“You can go sit over there with Jinnie and Lix, okay?” He told her, pointing over at the two boys.

She nodded, heading over to them, as they made space in between themselves for her to slot into. She did, squirming around a bit until she was comfy. Han was up first, and her birthday twin popped himself into the recording booth, getting set up in there while Binnie and Chan got the tracks and guides all ready to go.

Felix and Hyunjin roped her into a conversation about fashion, though she didn’t have much to add to it. Though they were frequently interrupted by Han’s shouts at Changbin for his comments. The amount of times certain lines were repeated by her birthday twin, got some of them stuck in her own head, and by the end, she was mouthing along to his parts. 

The best part for y/n, was seeing how in the zone Changbin and Chan got when it came to recording and getting the best possible results for their song. It really amazed her, even if she’s seen videos of their recordings, nothing could beat seeing it with her own eyes. It was amazing, really, they were so talented, her soulmates had so much talent. It made her fall even harder, seeing just how hard they worked to perfect things for their fans, for people who were like her. 

Soon enough, Han had finished recording, and Hyunjin was called up, but not before he grabbed her hand and laid a kiss on the back of it, causing y/n to blush hard, tipping her head down so her blush was hidden from view. Hyunjin laughed gently, remarking that she was cute. He finally let go, heading into the recording booth, warming up once he was in there. She looked up at the sound of his voice, always in awe of how pretty it was. 

“You’re both so cute, my soulmates are so pretty and cute.” Felix said as he rested his head on her shoulder. She tried to keep herself relaxed, but she wasn’t used to this much touching after going so long without it. But fuck she loved it, and at some point during the next little bit, they end up tangled up in each other, and both of them are smiling and content.

Hyunjin had to repeat his lines in the chorus so many times that y/n caught onto it and started softly singing it, as Felix listened to both of their voices. He didn’t realize y/n could sing, though they hadn’t known her long nor was there ever a chance that allowed for her to sing, but he wanted a song from her, just so he could listen to it over and over again. It was almost a need, but he didn’t voice any of this, not wanting her to get embarrassed and stop singing. 

‘Hannie, come here.’ He texted his almost twin.

‘Whyyy?’ He got back.

‘Sunshine’s singing, and it’s beautiful.’ He replied.

That got the man moving, though he tried to be casual and just wanted to come over and spend time with y/n and Felix. He sat down in the spot Hyunjin had occupied, and due to that, their soulmate stopped singing temporarily. Felix slightly pouted in disappointment, but hoped that she might start up again, once Han’s presence next to her became normal, and she focused back in on the singing coming from the booth.

To the disappointment of Felix once again, he was called up next to record after Hyunjinnie. He groaned and moaned as he got up, as Han shifted y/n’s weight onto himself and Hyunjin gleefully took Felix’s place next to their tiny soulmate. However, the freckled man also knew that he could take the time to impress his soulmate while he was recording his lines. It was a shame that he might not get to hear her if she sang along.

And sang along she did, Hyunjin and Hannie being in awe of her voice. She hadn’t trained like any of them, so there were things that could be improved upon, but that was really if she was actively pursuing being a singer, which they didn’t think she was. But her natural voice was so so pretty, and it honestly would fit well into their songs, in some way or another. Han wanted her voice in their tracks in some manner, now that he’s heard it, he needs more of it. He was greedy, and now that she was here and she was his,well theirs, he wanted to have all of her. His thoughts started to descend downwards, thinking about how her voice would sound in other ways. However the burst of laughter coming from the others snapped him out of it. He looked to see that Felix’s voice had cracked in the middle of him singing, and it started a round of laughter in the studio.

Y/n giggled quietly, just enjoying the chaotic vibes of the boys around her, and watched as they went through the process of recording the song. It sounded much different than Case 143, but to be fully honest, it was still them and she enjoyed the song. Though, it was different hearing the song in separate parts as each member recorded their lines, instead of a whole song from start to finish. Her favorite part so far might have been the part that Felix recorded first, which seemed to be the pre-chorus. 

Minho and Innie’s sessions finished without much fanfare, both determined to get it done, though she, as did the boys, laughed when Bin and Chan fought over how Minho should end the second chorus. She secretly agreed with Chan’s opinion, but she feared the wrath of Changbin, so kept her mouth shut.

Once it got to Seungmin’s turn, most of the boys were kinda bored, but that’s not because the second youngest was boring, not at all. It was because they were stuck here until everyone had recorded, as per Chan’s orders, but no one seemed to know what the leader wanted. So everyone stayed, besides watching the others mess up, or hearing their voices crack mid-line never got old. She found herself laughing along with the others, not at all feeling like this was her first time in the studio with them. She couldn’t get over how she felt so at home with all of them. Like she had known them since she was young, it felt like meeting old friends after years apart and just continuing where you left off. 

Changbin’s part was very entertaining, though it was hard to keep him focused on just his lines, and not have him sing the others lines as well. Y/n was laughing so hard the entire time, that her stomach was hurting, and Hyunjin and Han kept supplying her with other times he’s been like this, keeping her laughter going. It seemed that her laughter made the others perk up even more, despite everyone being ready to leave the studio to do other things. 

“And now it’s my turn, Han, Bin, come take your seats please.” Chan announced as he headed into the booth as the last one who needed to record. 

The other two-thirds of 3racha settle into the chairs at the desk, pulling up what they needed for Chan’s parts of the song. The leader was nothing if not efficient, quickly acing his lines and the two others only offering slight changes to improve it. She was in awe as she watched him sing, she wished he had larger parts in their title tracks because his voice was amazing and she’d never get sick of it. When he finished, finally satisfied with his work, she was saddened, not wanting him to stop, but maybe she’d get Binnie or Han to give her audio copies of his lines so she could listen to them on repeat. 

Since the recording had finished, the few staff members that had sat in on the session, packed up and left, leaving just the nine of them in the room. The silence in the room almost became deafening, before Hyunjin piped up from next to y/n.

“It seems like we’re a group that can sing. Our littlest soulmate has a very pretty voice, Felix and Han can confirm.” He said, smiling widely.

Hyunjin’s words caused the girl to look down, she had been so much in her own world that she hadn’t realized she was singing out loud. She was a bit flustered and scared of their judgment now, having sung in front of people whose livelihood is singing professionally, despite the fact that Hyunjin had complimented her voice.

“Her voice really is pretty, and it honestly fits well with parts of the song.” Han complimented her further. Felix hummed in agreement.

“Do you wanna hop into the booth and give it a try?” Chan asked, looking at her.

“I’m more worried that I’d embarrass myself if I did that.” She replied.

“Can’t embarrass yourself. Just try, for us?” Minho encouraged her.

She nodded quietly, Han and Changbin pulling her into the booth, and helping set it up for her, pointing out everything she needed to know. She kept fidgeting with her hair, and Felix popped in quickly to tie it back for her, so it was out of the way.

“There you go, sunshine. You’ll do great, I promise.” He told her, before leaving her by herself in the booth.

She put the headphones on her head, taking a deep breath in to try and quiet her anxieties. 

She heard Chan’s voice come through the speakers, “Okay, so you have the lyrics sheet in front of you there, and if you can find Felix’s lines from the first pre-chorus, that’s where I wanted to start you off.”

She nodded, finding it and telling him that she was as ready as she could be. She hadn’t known how to warm up her voice or anything, and she wasn’t going to attempt it with all of them there. But she knew that they knew that she wasn’t on their level, and they just wanted to hear her sing, no pressure at all. Hearing the music start and Chan counted her in, she picked up singing where she was meant to, singing the younger Aussie’s lines.

She didn’t have the courage to look anywhere but at the paper with the lyrics on it, and once she finished her lines, she closed her eyes, worried about what the boys would think. Singing under her breath was different than singing there in the booth, in front of her idol soulmates.

Suddenly, the studio was filled with applause from the boys, as Chan played back what she had recorded for her to listen to. He blush grew as the boys continued cheering and as she listened to her voice. Wow, she didn’t think she could sound that good, especially singing a line meant for Felix. His lines were always iconic, and she didn’t think she could match up to his level, but she still had trouble believing the voice she was hearing was hers. 

“Wow, babygirl, you’re fucking amazing. We might be able to make a singer out of you yet. But only if that’s what you actually wanted. No pressure at all.” Chan complimented her, and she looked through the glass at him, where she could see a smile on his face. 

“Do you wanna sing some more, or are you finished?” Changbin asked, stuttering slightly at the end of his sentence. 

“I think I’m done, this was enough of an adventure today.” She told them, ready to be done already.

Seungmin and Jeongin wished she had wanted to sing more, the vocalracha pairing wanting to hear more of her voice. Her range seemed to be somewhere between all of theirs, but that made her more of a perfect match, she just seemed to fit in with them in every way possible. They quietly discussed this with each other, both of them determined to get her to sing with them some time, maybe take her out to karaoke, and just let her fool around and they can all just enjoy singing when it’s not a work thing. 

All of the boys really just wanted time by themselves with her, but they knew right now it wasn’t as feasible, not with their increasingly busy schedule, and how it wouldn’t be long until they were flying out for concerts again, in between the last legs of their world tour. Plus, y/n needed to head home and pack up her life. Which meant a round of goodbyes when she had to go, which none of them wanted to dwell on at the moment.

When y/n walked back into the studio, she was bombarded with a Channie hug from the man himself, swaying the two of them back and forth, until he was yelled at by his members for hogging her.

“Yah!! Let us have a turn with our soulmate too!” Changbin yelled, jokingly throwing a tantrum. 

“Fine, fine, my god.” Chan sighed and let her go, but not before kissing her dangerously close to her lips.

That caused an uproar from the boys, who, depending on the angle, thought Chris had actually kissed her. Once it was clarified that the two hadn’t locked lips, the yelling quieted down.

“Do any of you have other things to do today?” Y/n asked, looking around.

“Chan-hyung, Bin-hyung and I have to do some more work in the studio today. I know jagiya has some choreography to go over for the upcoming comeback plus making sure the concert choreo is still good to go.” Han chimed in.

“Jeongin and I have vocal lessons today.” Seungmin informed her.

“Hyunjin and I are planning to go out later with some friends.” Felix said. 

“Oh, okay.” She said, after processing all of that information.

“Why? Did you wanna do something? Go somewhere?” Han asked her.

“I kinda wanted to head back home to the dorms, actually. I need some more sleep.” She confessed, a yawn coming out of her mouth only seconds later.

At her mention of the dorms as her home, the boys’ hearts soared, exhilarated to hear her refer to their place like that. They wanted her to feel at home, and it seems despite the setbacks, they’ve managed to do so.

And they had, in y/n’s mind. She wanted to snuggle up in one of their beds, didn’t matter whose, and just take in the care and love they’ve shown her in the last couple days. She was falling hard for them already, though that wasn’t hard. She was lucky to have them as soulmates, and she knew once she was back here to stay, she wanted to get to know each of them. She had eight soulmates, and she wanted eight first dates. But before all of that, she really needed to pack up her life halfway across the globe first. She had eternity with her soulmates, she didn’t need to rush everything right now.

“Hyunjin and I can take you home.” Felix told her, moving to grab her hand. She smiled at him and thanked the two of them. 

“We’ll let you go home now, and we’ll see you later.” Minho told her, smoothing down her hair before pulling her into a hug. 

She was passed between each of the boys, minus the two who’d be going home with her. Everyone had their own individual way of saying goodbye, and there were more than a couple kisses involved, to which she giggled. By the time they left the studio, her hair was a bit messed up, and she was as red as a tomato, but she was smiling from ear to ear. She was in a state of bliss, feeling insanely happy and content. The two boys noticed and smiled to themselves before they each grabbed a hand and walked her out of the building to a waiting van. 

Hyunjin climbed in first, followed by y/n and then finally Felix, all three sitting together in a row. Hyunjin told the driver where to drop them off, as well as to wait for them since the two would be leaving after dropping her home. Thankfully, for y/n since she was exhausted, the ride was quick, and it wasn’t long before they were in the elevator heading up to the 3racha dorm, since Hyunjin offered his bed for her to nap in. 

This was her first time in that dorm, always being in the maknae + lino dorm since she’s been with them. It was definitely messier than the other apartment, but it seemed just as lived in, and she still felt at home here. Once shoes were taken off, Hyunjin led her to his room, and then searched his closet for some comfier clothes in case she wanted to change. Felix waited by the entrance to the other dancer’s room, not wanting to intrude, however y/n had no intentions of ignoring him. 

“Why are you hanging out over here, come on in.” She told him, grabbing his arm and dragging the taller man over to the bed, pulling him down next to her. She latched onto him, leaning her head on his shoulder and sighing happily. “Much better.” She commented.

Hyunjin came back out of his closet to find the two of them on his bed, cooing at them, causing both of them to blush. 

“Look at you two. So cute.” He said, chuckling as he laid the change of clothes over a chair in his room. 

“You come here.” She ordered him, and he crossed the short distance over to them, sitting down on the other side of y/n.

“Yes princess?” He asked her, curious why she wanted him here.

“Now I’m happy. Two of my wonderful soulmates and I get time alone with you both.” She stated, smiling once again.

“That was all you wanted, both of us here?” Felix questioned.

“Yup!” She said simply, not needing to elaborate.

The two men chuckled, looking at each other before leaning in to kiss her cheeks, leaving the girl a bit shocked.

“You can’t just do that to a girl!” She half-shouted, before burying her face in her hands.

“But we can do that to our soulmate, which you are.” Hyunjin said, before leaving another kiss on her cheek, just to be extra cheeky.

Y/n let go of both of them, falling back on the bed, grumbling about soulmates who need to stop making her so flustered.

“But we like making you flustered, sunshine. It’s part of the fun.” Felix chuckled at her reaction, before his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

“We have to go now baby, but remember if you need us, text one of us or the group chat, okay?” The Aussie reminded her, Hyunjin echoing his words.

“Okay, I will if I need to. Have fun with your friends, okay?” She said, looking up at them with sleep-filled eyes, already starting to doze off.

“We will. Sleep well my darling.” Hyunjin said, leaning down to leave a final kiss on her forehead, before he grabbed Felix and the two of them left.

Y/n managed to stay awake for a couple more minutes, hearing the two leave the apartment, before she succumbed to the lure of sleep.

Prev | Next

Taglist: @queen-thiccness@k-k-kn1v3s @ihrtlix @calisnewworld @lailac13 @thegingerthatwaited @hyunmikim @marie-is-seein-stars

if your name is in pink, I am unable to tag you

[solomams]

POST UR HC!!!!

HAHAHA IT'S BEEN OVER A WEEK BUT IM HERE I SWEAR. Prefacing to say this is the silliest thing ever but I promised I'd post it

anyway polyship silly idea where Paula and Solomon have to go to the human world for an errand, and they've been gone for a month already and maybe it was only supposed to take two weeks (maybe dealing with the sorcerer's society??)

and Mammon wasn't allowed to go because he recently got in trouble or smth, so he has to stay behind alone

this all started because i saw a tiktok of a guy in the rain sitting on the hood of his car and crying btw

anyway Mammon who's been getting more and more antsy the longer they've been gone, even though they try to call him every night. And one night he wakes up in a cold sweat thinking "what if they leave and start a life together without me"

and so now he's sneaking to the Demon Lord's Castle trying to find a way to the human world. And of course he gets caught by Barbatos.

But the way that Mammon looks so frazzled, just in pajama pants and one of Paula's sweaters thrown on (he's been sleeping in her room). His hair is messed up and his slippers are mismatched. Barb sighs and takes pity on him, opening the portal. But not before promising to punish him if he causes any trouble.

And he steps through the portal into the shared apartment Solomon and Paula got after she went back to the human world the first time around. He steps through the halls quietly, nervously. What if they don't want to see him- He brushes that thought off.

Stepping into the bedroom, he stops and stares at the sight before him. Paula and Solomon, curled around each other. But what catches his eye isn't Solomon wearing what is obviously one of his tank tops. It's... It's the plushie of himself that used to be cursed. Tucked in against a pillow, to the right of Paula, his usual space.

He couldn't help grinning to himself at the sight, all the worries he had, all the creeping thoughts that haunted him late at night melting away. He snapped a quick photo on his D.D.D, remind himself to set up a new lock screen later.

He tried to be as careful as possible, worming himself between the two of them, but anyone would have woken up being disturbed.

"Just go back to sleep"

"...Mammon? Is that you?"

"Ugh... What time is it..?"

"Don't worry about it. Go back to sleep."

"What...ever..."

Paula didn't fight, just curled up tighter against Mammon's chest and sliding an arm around his waist. She was so groggy, she wouldn't remember this in the morning.

"How did you manage to get here? Don't tell me a witch summoned you?"

Solomon had a hand on Mammon's arm, tracing patterns on his bicep. Mammon was already fighting sleep. Damned sorcerer, knowing all his weak points.

"Nah... nah, I had help. Didn't do nothin' crazy, I promise.."

Solomon hummed, not sure if he should believe the demon. But he decided to leave it, pressing himself tight against Mammon's back and holding him close.

"We missed you"

"Heh... 'course ya did.."

A sharp pinch to his side had Mammon yelping. Paula hadn't fallen back asleep quite yet.

"...I missed ya both, too..."

[covenofwives]

Sleepovers Are Cool

Made for Sleepy's Ler!Sapnap week. Using day 6 soft/cuddles prompt.

Sleepsovers are a must for Sapnap and Sapnap4K. It's just a pain that Sapnap wakes up crushed under his brother's weight and has to persuade him to move.

Sorry this one took so long I just had to stare at it a while before posting.

---

Sleepovers were a common occurrence between the brothers Sapnap and Sapnap4K. It was something that helped mend their relationship but it also became a great comfort to Sapnap. It was an almost childlike feeling of safety to wake up in 4K’s arms.

However there was a downside to everything and this was included. While 4K’s arms were strong and warm and safe...there was also no escaping them.

“Get...ooooff!”

“Nope!”

Sapnap grunted under the weight of his brother, trying and failing to wiggle out from under him. He had awoken to the Nether God’s arms wrapped tightly around his waist. He failed to pry the arms off himself and 4K – very much awake and amusingly watching – decided to roll over on top of Sapnap.

“4K!” Sapnap huffed. He had managed to turn himself over on his back before being crushed under 4K’s weight. “Get off!”

“My teddy bear is being so unruly.” 4K sighed. “It’s job is to stay there, and keep quiet.”

“4K!” Sapnap snapped, but it was no use. 4K’s weight seemed to compress down on him, pushing him further into the mattress. He growled in frustration and tried in vain to push off 4K’s shoulders and out from under him. Even if he got a little bit of a give, 4K’s hands would latch onto his sides and pull him back down.

One of 4K’s fingers pushed in a little firmer, sending a ticklish tingle up through Sapnap’s skin. He caught the giggle in his throat but it sparked an idea for escape.

Faking a sigh of defeat, Sapnap wormed his arms back down to his sides. He could feel 4K keep himself ready to stop any other escape attempt, but when Sapnap did nothing he relaxed. He melted over Sapnap and hummed happily in his win. Perfectly unaware.

He had to be quick with his attack, so wasting no time Sapnap dug his fingers into 4K’s side. Mixing between kneading and pinching into the soft skin.

4K yelped and jumped as Sapnap had hoped. He used the small window of escape to slip out from under 4K. He managed to get his legs around 4K’s waist and used the surprise to flip 4K on his side. Then his fingers were free to skitter and tickle up and down his brother’s side.

“SahaHAHAP!” 4K yipped. He flung his elbow out to try and knock Sapnap off, but it was easily pushed up. His arm stretched over his head as Sapnap held it down and kneaded up and down his ribs.

“Where’s your rib?! Where is it?! The one that drives you mad!” Sapnap demanded while his fingers tickled up and down 4K’s ribs. He wasn’t really trying to find it with how erratic his tickling was. Instead he focused on 4K’s exposed armpits when his brother squealed over the spot, drilling his thumbs in.

“SAAAHAHAHAPNAHAHAP! F-FuhuHUHUCK!” He made a weak attempt to roll over, which Sapnap allowed. He straddled over 4K’s legs instead, and kneaded up over his hips. “Nohohot the hihihihihihips!”

“Don’t even give me that ‘not the hips’!” Sapnap mocked. “Should have just let me up.”

“Yohohohour uhuhup nohohow!” 4K tittered into the back of his hand, barking out a laugh when Sapnap tickled his fingers to 4K’s belly and kneaded on both sides of it. “OKAHAY! StohoHOHOP!”

The laughter faded as Sapnap sat back and pulled away his hands. 4K was left, giggling over the ghostly tickles fading from his tummy. “Ihit is far...fahar too early for tickles there...”

“If you wanted to be tickled, you could have just asked for them.” Sapnap pointed out.

4K gave a sheepish smile. “I wanted cuddles. The tickles were just an added bonus.”

“Uh-huh. So you’d be absolutely fine if I went out for my morning jog and you’d be left here with no tickles?”

The smile faded just slightly and Sapnap could see the fight behind his brother’s eyes. “Well… I mean it’s a little too early for a jog wouldn’t you think?”

Sapnap gave a snort before climbing off 4K’s legs. Before he looked too panicked, Sapnap scooted himself up to the top of the bed, and sat beside 4K.

“If I give you your tickles,” Sapnap offered, “then you gotta join me on my jog.”

It just took one moment and a flick of 4K’s tail before he said: “Deal.”

“Alright. Where do you want tickled?”

“Armpits.” 4K answered almost instantly, and threw his arms up over his head.

“You’re only getting tickled for another few minutes.” Sapnap said as he reached over to 4K’s exposed pit. One hand gave wispy soft tickles into the skin while the other was playing with a loose strand of 4K’s hair. “I want to get going.”

“Juhuhust a fehew minuhuhutes…” 4K giggly agreed while his tail flicked happily. “Thehen after the jog, y-yohohou gehet tihihickles.”

Sapnap sputtered and protested that wasn’t the agreement, but he kept up his soft soft tickling and his own tail twitched happily behind him to the promise.

[crocwearingcryprid]

Magnus Archives fanfic ideas, I can't decide which one to write.

1. Somewhere else Martin wakes up from a nightmare, tape recorder laying next to him, knife in his hand and flesh eating worms behind the door. This time he's not afraid.

2. Tim thinks he's dead when after the explosion he finds himself in a place full of fog, there is ringing in his ears and someone else laying beside him. Great, If that's hell he really doesn't like the idea of being there with Jon.

Turns out Martin forgot to mention about his short employment on the Tundra back when he was a teenager.

3. They have a new coworker that Peter Lukas recommended Jon didn't even see the guy and they have been presumably working together for a few weeks now, still every morning there is a fresh tea on his desk and it pisses him off. Tim somehow manages to invite Martin to a bar with Sasha saying they should get to know each other better. Jon knows these two are too curious for their own good but when Tim asks him to come he just can't decline.

4. Martin found a statement, It was old and written with a blue shiny pen, the letters twirling around in pleasant waves. He knew this handwriting, there was a name that he knew one that he wanted to forget and he couldn't let Jon see it.

Tim can't find that one lost statement and Jon can't stop whining about disorganized archives. Martin should have burned it, really.

Tim and Jon record a statement regarding "What happened to the Blackwood familly." It's wierd to think his father was actually a good writer.

→⁠_⁠→ Here is what came out of this post

[acim-ed-ortsac]

Warmth

The next few days turned into a week before it almost became two—no, three weeks after your nightmare, and you were still shaken.

Nothing could stop you from remembering the crawling of your skin and the horrible feeling of your heart stuck in your throat as red eyes watched you. Stared at you. Looked at you, with all kinds of feelings and emotions that felt like chains wrapping around you, binding you to the floor.

And it took a toll on you. Nothing could hide it, the crew knew. You found yourself eating little despite the chef making your favorite, you always apologized to him despite his reassurances. Sleep had been hard to come by at night, leaving you exhausted in the morning. And when you find a quiet moment to yourself in this loud and rambunctious crew, you find yourself paranoid and watching everything from the seas, the clouds, the birds, the fishes—searching through their eyes to make sure you are not watched.

That dream had unleashed a mysterious can of worms that seemed unknowingly there, as if past trauma had been relived. And that’s the most baffling part of it, isn’t it? You can’t remember a time when you met Imu or even living in this world before. Not a single recollection. It frustrated you to no end.

The boys have been supportive from the silent way Mihawk would let you lean on him on break, Shanks holding your hand when you feel yourself about to drop in that dissociative trance that disconnected you from reality, to Buggy filling the space with his voice as he recalled tales with Shanks and even Mihawk when you decided to stay behind. You appreciated these things, finding yourself grounded in the world. You might have wasted away if they didn’t.

Roger and the crew were there too. When you found yourself in that state, where everything didn’t make sense and you were out of your body, Roger would pick you up and just hold you. His warmth was enough to bring you back, even if it was little by little. Rayleigh would make sure you ate and slept, going out of his way to wake up when you were out on the ship, watching for the night.

It was more than enough but at the same time…it wasn’t. And you felt horrible that you felt like that.

-*-

It was night time and the crew was asleep. 

You had managed to slip out of the comforts of the cabin, past Mihawk’s senses and the youngster’s sleep, and settled yourself at your usual night watch at the middle crow’s nest. The wind sweeps by, whispering comfort in your ears and the sea calls out to you from below. But tonight, you look up at the stars and the half-formed moon that wades its light onto the world. Its light shines at your eyes and you feel calm in the night, its darkness abated with the light of the moon and stars, with the voices of the animals of all land, air, and sea, and the voices of all things that shouldn’t be alive. 

You feel their warmth…yet it wasn’t enough.

You needed to be surrounded by it, buried in the warmth until you melted into something unidentifiable. You wanted…

Before you know it, the wind whistles past your ears and blows from under you as you find yourself falling headfirst into the ocean. And Rayleigh was screaming when you dove into the waters below.

And immediately, you felt warm. You felt safe. You felt…like you belonged.

You tilted your head back as you immersed yourself in the ocean embrace, her hands holding you safe as you closed your eyes and let yourself be free. Free of any thought, any fear, any feeling and let yourself be held in your arms.

You were one. One once again. The Moon and the Ocean are tied and knotted, where the Sun plays with the Earth, the Moon controls and influences the Ocean that surrounds it. You were one. You were Home—

A voice shatters the peace you were in and through the waters, a bubbled voice makes its way. Opening your eyes, you saw Rayleigh looking at you with wide eyes and bubbles forming from his lips. 

He’s gonna drown.

You quickly grabbed his arm and swam upwards to the surface, breaking through the waters to heave a gulp of air with Rayleigh following in pursuit. A ladder was dropped from the ship, the crew peering down at you two from above. Rayleigh took control, hauling you on his back and climbing the ladder. All the while he scolds you for jumping from the crows' nest.

When you both were back on the ship, Rayleigh gave you the scolding of a lifetime.

“What in Davey Jones name were you thinking!?” you averted your eyes from Rayleighs stressed gaze.

Roger stepped in before Rayleigh could explode further. “Doku, what happened?” You heard his voice yet did not look up. You felt…in a daze was the best description. Like you were not fully awake. Yet you tried to piece up a response, something that seemed the most sense to you…

“...The ocean called to me.” you finally replied.

“Doku—”

“It keeps calling out to me, everything does. The waters, the trees, the animals, even the wind, I heard everything. I hear everything and I don’t even understand it.” you didn’t understand, how you could have the Voice of all Things, why everything seemed to love you, that dream of Imu, and why being in the ocean is like being home. 

“I don’t understand any of this. Why does the government want me? Why does everything like me? Why does Imu keep trying to take me away!?”

“DOKU!”

You blinked yourself back to reality, finding Roger’s hand on your shoulder. You were rambling. “I…”

“We’ll talk about this in the morning, how about that?” Upon finding Roger’s eyes, those eyes that exuded so much warmth and freedom, you found yourself nodding. When the captain dispersed the crew for the night, some of them lingered to give words of comfort or to ruffle your hair. The chef asked you if you wanted hot chocolate, and for the first time in a while, you agreed.

While you waited, the boys joined you. Buggy and Shanks were still sleepy, snoring away on the table as the chef placed mugs of steaming chocolate on the table. You cradled your mug with both hands before you blew out the steam, cooling it before you took a sip. Mihawk silently drank his from your side. It was silent in the kitchen, only the snores of the two youngsters and the occasional sipping of hot chocolate.

“What happened?” Mihawk asked, not looking in your direction.

You sat the mug on the table, placing your hands on your lap that was still covered in your soaked shorts. You would need to change clothes. Yet, you did not mind being covered in water.

“...I felt like I was home. In the ocean.”

Mihawk did not say anything, letting you continue.

“In the dream, there were red eyes with rings, like yours. But these eyes…they were…wrong. So wrong. It made me feel wrong. And it spoke, it called me someone else’s name, and the way it said it was so…”

“Wrong?”

You nodded. “I felt like I was drowning in whatever it was feeling. Like chains. I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t want to feel that again.”

Mihawk didn’t say anything after that, yet he held your hand. 

I’ll make sure of that. Was his silent affirmation.

After a little while, Shanks was the first to stir from his sleep and start sipping his now-cooled chocolate. He didn’t say anything about what happened, but as he chatters away, his eyes would glance at your way. A subtle way of checking if you were okay.

And you felt like you could breathe again.

Previously

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