#wait i just thought of something funny to add to the next fic. if i remember when i finally get to it

[scionshtola]

it’s never not funny to me that alphi just assumed corishtola were dating for years before they actually did

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pent Up 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you seek validation through online correspondence with incarcerated men, only for one to lock you down in turn.

Characters: convict/excon!Thor (silverfox)

Note: It's an addiction now.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

'I never thought I'd be writing to someone like you, but you've shown me a different side of things. I hope that my emails give you comfort and can help you through. Even on the other side, they get me through my day. I'm always excited to read when there's a ding in my inbox.

I hope you also enjoy the little bit I could put in your commissary. If I lived closer, maybe I could bring you something homemade. At the moment, bus fare is a bit too much for my pockets.

Anyway, signing off.

Yours,

Diamond'

You add a whole line of heart emojis to the email then hit send. You giggle and click on the next. You don't have the heart to copy and paste so you add a bit of variety to the next.

This one is... Thor? That's his name. He's a funny one. Considering he's in the pen, you're surprised by that. The others are so dire; pushy too.

You hit reply on his last email. Something about a fight and apologising for not replying earlier. He says he was in solitary for a whole week. That sounds miserable. The thought is enough to scare you straight. It's why you've never done anything wrong in your whole life. Until now.

It's not really wrong. It's allowed. It's legal. You're just sending messages. If anything, it's a community service. These men don't have much more contact than each other and that's a recipe for chaos.

You won't admit that other reason aloud. That tickly feeling in your stomach. When they compliment you, when they say they missed you. You can't help but smile, even giggle sometimes. It's nice to be appreciated, even if it's all a fantasy.

You'll never meet these men. That's the fun part. You don't have to worry about any of this. Maybe that helps. Maybe you think too much when you're face-to-face. That explains why every cute guy you talk to sees past you.

'I forgive you, sweetie. It must have been so hard in there. The important thing is you replied. I got so worried! I hope that after all that, my email can bring a bit of comfort. I have to be honest, I never thought I'd be chatting with someone like you. That I could find this type of connection. Please, take care and email soon.'

Another parade of emojis follows and you send it off happily. Now you just have to wait and see who gets back to you first. If it's Ernie, you're not sure you'll respond. He's been fixated on his cell mate and his emails are getting a bit scary. That's the other great part. You can always just delete and block.

The response comes an hour later. You're sleepy and ready to pass out. You read it anyway.

'You are so kind, my queen.' You giggle. Yeah, he calls you that sometimes. If only he knew you were sitting in bed with an ice cream sandwich wrapper and your cell phone. Definitely not queenly behaviour. 'I got through it by thinking of you, of dreaming of the day when we can talk face-to-face. Wouldn't that be lovely? For all my mistakes, I think they will mean something if you and me can be together.'

You make a face. He's so cheesy. You can't help but laugh again. You're not trying to be cruel, you do empathise with his situation, you can't imagine being in prison, but like anyone else, he earned his time. There's one last light.

'If it isn't too much trouble, would you kindly send a picture so I have a face to admire in my lonelier moments? I've attached my own. Forgive me as it dates a few years back.'

You're not smiling anymore. You haven't sent any of the men pictures. They haven't offered theirs but you can look up their mug shots easily. You hate to ruin the fantasy but curiosity has you tapping the attachment.

Oh. You're surprised. He's older than you in this picture and by his own confession, is more so now. But he isn't repugnant. Anything but. Tall, blond, thick! You don't know if you've ever seen a man that size.

Even in a suit, it's obvious that his arms are bulging and his chest is ripe to burst out as the jacket button clings for dear life. The photo is cropped so that whoever he took it with is out of frame. His blue eyes sparkle above a defined smile. Has prison worn down all that?

You squirm. Guilt needles in your chest. You could close out and worry about it in the morning. You shouldn't be that sympathetic. He's still a criminal. You can say no. Easily. What's he going to do about it?

What could it hurt? If he saw your face. It's not like anyone would know. That anyone would recognise you or that he could find you anywhere else. You keep your social media anonymous. You aren't like the influencers who get attention just for being pretty.

It's that that gives you pause. You aren't anything but average. It's easier to pretend you're some pretty thing as you message these faceless men. Well, maybe that's a good thing. Maybe once he sees you, you won't have to worry about all that other stuff. He'll cut you off at the pass.

The thrill of it overwhelms your reluctance. It's like gambling, it could go either way.

You start a new message. More meaningly rewording of previous sentiments. Nothing new. Then you scroll through your photo roll. You take a breath and press down on a photo you think isn't half bad. It's from market day you went to with your aunt. Not exactly cutting edge but fun. She snuck in the shot as you smiled down at your gooey cinnamon roll. The impromptu snap is better than most of your posed ones.

You send and quickly lock the phone. You shove it under your pillow and swipe up the wrapper beside you. You leave it on your night stand and sink down, your insides swimming with anxiety. You're going to regret this in the morning.

🎀

'Will you call me?'

The question makes you sweat. You don't know why you feel bad. You've said no before. To him. To all of them. You draw a thick line between your secret little hobby and your real life. You shouldn't have ever sent that photo.

Despite your regret, you smile. His response was more than you could expect. The praise! You don't know that anyone ever even called you cute but he as good as wrote you a poem about your beauty. You have to remind yourself, given his circumstance, he's starved. He'd probably think your nan is sexy.

Still, you're having a hard time typing those two letter; N-O. Thor is so nice. And he asked so sweetly. But you can't do that. What if someone found out?

This whole thing is starting to feel like a big mistake, but it's so much fun. When in your life will men ever be this into you? When have they ever?

'I could call' you type without thinking. What are you doing? 'Let me know how to do that and we can set a time maybe.'

Don't hit send. Don't hit send.

Email sent.

Shit. Oh gosh. Why did you do that?

You close your laptop and leave it on your desk. You need to get ready for work. You can't be worrying about a man you'll never meet. It's all virtual, it's not real. You'll be okay.

You get yourself together and brace yourself for work. You don't really like your job. You work the counter at a tech repair shop. Independent so it's small and slow. Your boss is a bit strange too.

The only benefit is it's close and it pays a few bucks more than the alternative. You're even allowed to work on your online courses at the service desk. Really, it's perfect. You guess you're just not happy with things being boring.

You blow over the lid of your Sailor Moon travel mug and knock on the door. Jensen lets you in with a grin and stifles a yawn in his elbow. You step past him with a sheepish smile.

"If it isn't the champion of justice," he greets smugly and locks the door. You won't open for another half hour.

"Huh?" You go to the counter and slide your bag onto the shelf underneath.

"Your cup," he crosses the shop. “I am Sailor Moon, the champion of justice. In the name of the moon, I will right wrong and triumph over evil… and that means you!”

"Oh, right," you snort at his cheesiness. "You have espresso or something?"

"Red bull," he admits guiltily.

"This early?"

"Early? I never went to sleep," he comes around and goes back to typing on his glowing gaming computer. "Couldn't let my crew down."

You could roll your eyes. All he does is play Fortnite or Halo. He looks like he does too. Yet, he's in here moping after every rare stunner that walks through the door. That's why you'er there. He gets all tongue-tied with women. Well, all of them but you.

"You should join the party," he suggests.

"Well, I don't really play anymore," you shrug. "It was only for fun. My siblings... like it."

"Oh yeah, how's the family?"

"Good, I guess. They don't really call."

Your mom's too busy rebuilding her life with your step-dad. Rather, building the perfect life she never had. You sigh and open up your laptop. You grab your coffee and sip. You're tired of being forgotten.

"Jake," you say, he winces at the use of his first name, "Jensen," you glance at him, "you're a dude."

"Yeah, I am" he answers uncertainly.

"Well, you might know more than I do. You know anyone in prison? Any guys?"

"What?" He exclaims. "Where did that come from?"

"Mm... I was watching a documentary last night," you lie. "About prison or whatever."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and about you know," you sway and look at your laptop. You're terrible at lying. "The women who like write to them or whatever."

"Ew, like the Ted Bundy weirdos?" He scoffs.

"Not exactly. I mean, none of them were murderers. I think," you shrug. "But... like, if you were in prison, you'd need that, right? I mean, it's just to get you through."

"I don't know. It'd be lonely, yeah, but like... what about after?" He scratches his neck. "I got a buddy who was in for a while but he's a good dude. He was only selling... stuff."

"Really?" You perk up, "he went to prison?"

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it," Jensen says. "Why are you talking about this?"

"Making conversation. I was just thinking about the show," you sign into your laptop. "Just thinking... I mean, how do you even end up there?"

"Bad things. I learned my lesson when I was sixteen. I broke into the high school on a dare and the cops put me in cuffs for two hours. They let me go once I cried... I mean, I was a kid so..."

You nod and try not to show any judgment. That sounds about right. A notification pops up in the corner as Jensen goes back to the fluttering over his keyboard. You click on the email.

'I've been granted call-time at noon. You can call the number below and request by my inmate number...'

You quickly minimize and hide behind your cup as you slurp. Shoot. You didn't think he'd be so fast. A call at noon? You can't say no. Not now that he got approved.

Well, this is the only time it's happening.

[reiderwriter]

Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory

Chapter Three of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Your mounting attraction to Spencer Reid pushes you to the edge, turning begrudging friendship to deep hatred when he finally shows up on your doorstep. He's the only thing that can out you out of your misery even as you sink further into it.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hate sex, rough sex, argument as foreplay, oral (f recieving) and face fucking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasms, "forced" submission, creampie, p in v penetrative sex, etc.

A/N: I've had about as much sleep as the reader in this fic has for the last week, but HERE IT IS! Chapter Three 🥰 You may need a bottle of water on standby, or at least a hand fan, because this one gets a bit heated....

Masterlist || Add yourself to the taglist!

You hesitated in front of your office door, which you supposed was going to become a bad habit of yours now. You tried lying to yourself, that nothing was different now, that you weren't attracted to him in a completely stupid way, but you still stood frozen in front of your own office door. 

Frozen and horny. 

Shit. 

You mentally went through a list of the worst things that could happen if you went in. 

1. He was there. 

2. He wasn't there. 

3. He was there, and he touched you again, and you moaned. 

4. He was there, and he didn't touch you again, but you still moaned. 

5. He was there, and you threw yourself at him immediately because why wouldn't you when you'd seen what you could be working with the night before? Fuck moaning once, moaning multiple times as he pushed you against the bookshelf would- 

“Are you gonna go in, or are you just going to fondle the door handle?” He asked from behind you. From too close behind you. 

You turned, keeping the doorknob in your grin, and immediately flattened yourself against the door as he took a step closer. 

So close. He was so fucking close and it was suddenly all you could think of. 

“W-What?”

“You know, the CDC warns that door handles should be washed every 20 to 40 hours To prevent bacteria like Escherchia coli and Staphylococcus aureus from-” You ignored his words, drowning everything else out as you tried to dampen the fire burning under your skin.

“Cock?” You said, all attempts obviously not working. 

“Staphylococcus, yes. It can cause Adenovirus, Rhinovirus, not to mention-” 

“Okay! Okay, Spencer. Taking my hand off the handle now.” 

Finally, you twisted it and walked backwards into your room, walking backwards a few steps before your foot caught on a stray pile of books. 

“What the-” you cried, waiting for the impact of your landing as you swung out your arms frantically for purchase, screwing your eyes shut as you found none. 

Instead, you found an arm snaked around your waist, another wrapping your hip tight as Spencer Reid cradled your body to his own. 

“Thanks,” you breathed out, not even hearing the words yourself for how much air was in them. How was it possible to expel air and hold your breath at the same time? Because that was how it felt being in his arms: at once a sigh and a stopping of all bodily functions barring want. 

“I thought this was your office, Y/N. Surely you should know the layout by now.”

Moment over. You pushed at his chest to stand upright, and he stepped backwards, removing his hands from your person. 

“Very funny. We both know these are your books. Setting traps for me now, Spencer?” 

You moved around the piles of books again as he flicked the light switch, moving the opposite way around your desks, before meeting you again next to yours. 

“You're usually more observant than this. Is there something wrong today?” 

“What, like Adenovirus or Rhinovirus?” 

“No, like something…” he searched for the right words, pace slowing as he tried not to scare you away by talking with you like this.

“Like something on your mind.” 

You snorted, leaning down to switch on your computer, and also to avoid his eye contact. Unfortunately, academic curiosity had gotten to you in the last few weeks, and you'd read some of his psychological papers. You knew exactly what it was the BAU was apparently so good at, and you didn't want him to know that you'd imagined him balls deep in you hours before. 

“Not friends, Spencer. If there's something I need to talk about, I'll talk to a friend,” you said, standing straight again and turning to him again. You still avoided eye contact, but it didn't matter. His eyes weren't on your face but angled further down, like he'd been checking out your ass as you bent over or something. 

No. No, you weren't going down that train of thought. 

“Or even better, my therapist.” You were planning on the words being a bit more playful, but your voice came out deeper than you expected it, more gravely somehow. 

Your bedroom voice, you were using your stupid fucking bedroom voice on Spencer Reid. 

You cut yourself off again before you said anything else. Before he touched you or didn't touch you, and you got to test your earlier theory about which would be the more demeaning reaction. 

“I have class in ten. Clean up before I get back,” you ordered, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when he replied. 

“I don't take direction well, Y/N.” 

No, you didn't think he would. Neither did you though.

For a week, you tiptoed around the man, your words sharp, but your body weak to him. 

By day, you were hurling insults back and forth, messing up his papers and screwing with him via bookshelf again. 

“YOUR…FLY…IS….OPEN.” 

“VERY….MATURE.”

“MADE…YOU…LOOK…THOUGH.”

“BUSY….LOOKING…AT…OTHER….THINGS.”

“LIKE…THE…UNDERGRADS…THROWING…THEMSELVES…AT…YOU…?”

“LIKE…THE…PROFESSOR…I'M APPARENTLY…DATING” 

“Very fucking funny, Spencer,” you sighed at the last message, throwing the books off the shelf and pilling them up on the floor. 

“Don't even for a second entertain the idea of making that gossip a reality.” 

He grinned at you from behind his desk. 

“Okay.”

“Don't even - don't even think about it,” you said, stepping over his desk and poking at his chest as his smile deepened.

“Heard.” 

“I'm serious, Spencer, don't-” 

“You've thought about it.” You froze in shock at his words, as if your blood wasn't sure whether to run cold or burn hot and fast. 

“What?” You spat the words at him, unable to stop them coming out any other way. 

“You've thought about entertaining the gossip. You've thought about it a lot.” 

You needed to deny him, but he was right. By day, you tried to torment him, but by night, he did torment you. A week of wet dreams, of imagining him taking you over every inch of your office, of sleepless rest and failed orgams, and you could not escape. 

“No,” you said with a whisper, shaking your head and trying again even as your voice cracked from the lie and your body's cry for pleasure, for this man. 

“No, I haven’t- I don't-” You took a deep breath, but you knew it was no good, as his hand grabbed yours and flattened it against his chest. 

“Your pupils are dilated, your pulse is heightened, and your legs are practically clamped shut. Your mouth is dry, and I'm not sure if you've noticed yet, Y/N, but you're shaking.” 

“All signs of anger, Spencer, as you're well aware.” 

He let go of your wrist and sat back in his seat, just out of reach of you again. 

“Shame,” he whispered under his breath, nearly low enough that you didn't catch it, as he flipped open his book and continued whatever the fuck it was he even did in this office. 

You ignored it, anger really flooding you now, warring the heat of arousal that was firmly settled in your body for dominance. 

The anger won out. 

You grabbed books from your desk, files, and papers from the side table by the couch and your laptop from your desk and left the room quickly. 

You slammed the door, and you didn't look back, knowing that if you did, you'd see his winning smirk staring right back at you.

You marched yourself right to the staff administration office and put in for a week of leave. Spencer had one more week of work at the university, and then he would go back to being a regular FBI agent. 

Your paths wouldn't cross because you wouldn't let them cross, not when it meant for certain that you would give in.

You spent the week working to distract yourself from work. You finished books for your next semester courses, highlighting the better articles and essays to use, going through each bibliography to find better sources if they weren't good enough. You wrote more of a research paper you didn't have time to think about with so much going on. You corresponded with students, with TAs, with the other professors who wanted to know where you were. 

Okay, that was a lie. You aired the professors, but you did look out for any inboxes from him. Surprisingly, there were none. 

You spent a week throwing yourself head first into your work, and still, each night, you felt his phantom touch on you. No matter how exhausted, your brain still co jured images of his hands grasping your wrists, pushing them above your head and forcing his cock into you, his lips biting against your skin, the fire of his kisses leaving scars where they trailed down. 

You were running on three hours of sleep per night, sure, but at least you were as far as you could possibly get from the man ruining your life. 

You poured yourself a glass of wine the next Sunday, knowing that when you went back to work the next day, he'd be gone.

You wrapped yourself in blankets and put everything else off for the day, ordering food and eating it and not moving as you worked your way through boxes of pizza. 

It was when you finished your first glass and went to pour yourself another that there was a furious pounding at your door. 

“Y/N, I know you're in there, open the door.” His hand sounded again, and you nearly dropped the glass at the sound of Apencer Reid's voice. 

Your body acted alone, immediately following his directions as you damn near tripped over your own feet to open the door for him. 

Throughout all of your arguments, all of the quips you'd thrown at him, every stupid little thing you'd done to get under his skin, you had not once seen Spencer Reid looking this angry. 

His brow was furrowed uncomfortably, as if it were frozen in place. Gone was his perpetual smirk. 

“Spencer, what the fuck a-” 

“Thoughtless. Careless. Do you even know what you've done?” He snapped at you, stepping into your apartment and closing the door behind himself as he immediately walked into your space and began touching things.

“Stop! Fucking stop it, Spencer!” You said grabbing his arm and pulling him around to face you. He brushed you off quickly and worked his way through papers you'd left on your coffee table. 

“No. You stormed out over a week ago, you blocked my number, you did not answer any of my emails-” 

“I didn't get any emails,” you spit back, pushing yourself between him and your things now, bodies so close they were touching. 

“Then you blocked my email, too. You don't even know what I'm looking for or the damage you could have done, do you?” His hands were on you then, not threateningly, as you'd expect, his anger still burning through him if his shaking voice had anything to say for it. 

His hands stroked up your sides and back down again, smoothing away your need to think. 

“My files. My team sent me a file. It was on the coffee table, and you took it with you when you left. The case is ongoing, and I'm flying out tomorrow, and without some of the classified information in that file, we will be at a disadvantage. Our odds of catching our unsub fall from 83% to 47% without all of the pertinent information.” 

Your breath hitched as he leaned in closer. 

“So yes, I'm going to go through your things, and if you're a good girl, you'll root through with me and help me find it.” 

He stepped away then, and you held your tongue. As much as you hated him, he was right. You knew what he did, you knew who he was and to trust him not to lie to you about his chances without this information. 

“The files on the coffee table are research notes, everything I took from the office is in that case over there,” you said pointing at a bag still where you'd dropped it by the door a week earlier. 

He walked to it and rooted through it quickly before finding the file he obviously needed and letting some of the tension out of his shoulders. 

“You're probably glad to see the back of me, right?” He said, laughing bitterly as he turned back around to you. 

“Obviously not as happy as you are,” you spat back, stepping back over to him. 

“If you ever speak to me that way again,” you started, spitting at him in the most threatening voice you could muster. “It won't be a fucking unsub that ruins your life.” 

“And how are you going to manage that, Y/N?” He said, stepping closer to you until he had you backed up against the wall, trapped in by his bigger frame, using it to his advantage to intimidate. 

“How will you manage to ruin my life,” he said, his voice softer as he finished his sentence, but not by much. “When you shake with just every time I get close?” 

“This is not lust,” you growled the words out, but try as you damn might, you were shaking, vibrating even. 

“Then what is it?” 

“Hatred, dislike, loathing, detestation, abhorrence, fuck Spencer, you can pick up a thesaurus yourself and find out.”

“Yeah. Okay. I'll believe your lies for a second.” He walked away, he was walking away but the fire was ringing in your ears and you needed him to stay fucking put so he could take it all. 

“You're a jackass.”

“Original.” 

“You slammed into my life, expecting me to bend to your will and be at the mercy of your needs, your wants. Your office space, your fucking case files, your job-” 

“None of that was my choice.” 

“And it wasn't mine either, but at least I fucking left you alone. I spent the week in this apartment and left you the fuck alone, and you couldn't even allow me the same.”

His focus was back on you again, but you refused to be backed against a wall this time. 

“What did you say?” 

“You will not let me know peace. I have lost my security, my patience, my fucking sanity with each word you have said, my peace of mind, my sleep, my fucking sanity, Spencer.” Your chest was heaving, touching his with each exhale as he too held his place in front of you. He was so close, you'd practically spat the words directly into his mouth. 

“How is that my fault?” He whispered, voice still dripping with disdain even as his hands again wrapped themselves in your hair, and he tugged your head back, baring your neck to him as he leaned down into you. 

“How do you know that you're not doing the same to me?” 

You refused to answer, though, meeting his eyes for one last second before you grabbed his hair in your hands and yanked him down to your mouth. 

It wasn't so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, each trying to torture a surrender from the other with clashing tongues and teeth. 

You made the first move, but he was obviously expecting it, and he didn't even pause before launching his own attack, finally pushing past your strong defence to walk you back to the sofa you'd abandoned earlier. 

His tongue still lashed against yours as you retreated, refusing to give up your upper hand even as you moaned into his touch. The couch hit the back of your knees, buckling, and you silently cursed your lack of sleep for leaving you so unstable right now. 

No, that wasn't true. It was him. He had left you so unstable, moving between happy and playful to angry and wrathful in the space of a week without you, and you'd been denying yourself the ability to even entertain any of this happening. Now that it was, your body was unprepared, totally at his mercy, as he pushed you to your back and pushed up your skirt. 

“You're already so fucking wet,” he groaned slipping two fingers inside you as you moaned around him, no longer capable of thought. This was the moment, this was when he was going to make you submit to him finally. 

Instead, he dropped to his knees and you gasped as his to guess found your sweet cunt and he began sucking to your clit. 

You were on fire, skin scorched from the inside out, spreading in waves from your pussy to the furthest regions of your body. 

With one hand, he spread your thighs further apart and pushed his entire face further into your cunt, tongue pushing inside right by his fingers, nose pushed right up against your clit as he didn't relent. Every movement was another curse falling from your mouth. 

“Shit, Spencer, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimpered, hips rocking back and forth as you tried to fuck his face, begging for more. 

To your surprise, he didn't keep your hips still but let you keep riding his face, riding his fingers as you chased your first orgasm.  

It came quickly, overwhelming you with the impact, jolting through your body like a lightning bolt as he let your hips shake and crash across his tongue. 

When he finally pulled his face away, it was glistening, and he wasted no time shoving his tongue back in your mouth. His message was clear - he may have let you take whatever pleasure you'd wanted with him, but he was still the one in control. 

You trailed kisses along his cheeks, neck, shoulders as he divested himself of clothing, shirt, belt, pants, ripping at yours to free your body as well, until the two of you were only left with underwear and you'd picked up every last drop of your cum left on his skin.

“On your back, now,” he said, and you complied. You spread your legs, and rubbed at your still wet cunt, jolting as he finally lined himself up with your cunt. 

But he didn't push in yet. Instead he wrapped two arms under your knees and pulled you closer, so his cock rested over the top of your stomach, and leaned down, his face hovering inches over your own, holding himself up with a forearm rested just above your head. 

“You see that?” He said, glancing down. “That is how much I am going to fill you. That is how deep I am going to ease into you. That is how far I am going to go to claim you. You can take it like a good girl, right?” 

“Just shut up and put your cock inside me, Spencer.” 

“You're so fucking pushy for a submissive little slut,” he said, smiling finally. 

“I am not a-” you started to protest, but he slid inside of your hot cunt and you lost the ability to focus. 

“Not a what, Y/N? Speak up,” thrusting shallowly as your cunt grabbed him and held tight. 

“I'm not a- SPENCER!” You screamed his name as he pulled out quickly, thrusting into you again with a speed and strength that had you wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, fighting for him to stay right there deep inside. 

“Not a sub? Y/N, you're whimpering and drooling right now. You're three seconds away from begging for my cock, why the fuck can you not be honest with yourself?” 

“Fuck…you,” you said between moans as he rutted into you like a beast. He wasn't man anymore, bit monster, and he was claiming you inch by disgustingly perfect inch. 

“Let go. Let me take care of you, let me control you. Come on, baby, you know how good it would feel,” he said, before ducking his head and wrapping his tongue around a nipple. 

You screamed his name again, but you still tried to resist. 

“Come on, Y/N. Show me. Cum on my cock.” 

For a brief moment, you'd thought you'd resisted the demand. But then your brain faded, and your nails cut into his back like daggers as your body followed his commands and you came on his cock for a second time that night. 

“Perfect. One more, you can do one more,” he said, kissing your lips and lifting himself back up so he was sitting on his knees as he again picked up the pace. 

You mumbled his name over and over again as he fucked out all of the frustration in your body. Every thing either of you had said or done melted away in the glow of pleasure, your body buzzing from the feeling of him taking ownership of you. 

“One more, Y/N. One more, you need to cum one more time.”

“I can't, I can't I can't I can't, Spencer I can't I really can't,” you said, voice growing pathetically whiny as the tears sprang to your eyes and you choked back a sob. 

“Yes you can, one more. Together, we can do it together,” he said, groaning as you clenched around him.” 

He claimed your mouth again, his hand wrapping around your throat as he cut off your air supply for a second, then two, then three, as your ears buzzed and you finally slipped over the edge again. 

But this time, as promised, you weren't the only one caught in the pain of pleasure. Spencer collapsed on top of you as his dick spurted inside you, holding you close as he unloaded everything he had into you. 

He sat there, warming his cock as he lazily kissed open mouth kisses into every inch of your shoulders, collar bone and chest. Everywhere he could reach without pulling out of you and leaving you there. 

After weeks of no sleep because of him, it was his soft lips that finally enticed you into the hands of the sandman, his weight a comfort as you closed your eyes. 

When you woke in your bed, clean and clothed, he was gone, and so was every sign that he'd ever been there in the first place. 

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[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

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[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (4/?)

Part summary: Getting to know Leigh Shaw comes with some hardships—literally.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 4.600 | Warnings/Tags: Pining | A/N: Still haven't decided how many parts will there be, but for now, enjoy reader's POV as her interest in Leigh grows :)

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Next

-

For some reason, you keep saying yes to Leigh Shaw.

Yes to providing your veterinary services for her.

Yes to divulging the private aspects of your relationship with Matt.

Yes to staying in her yoga class.

Yes to running very early in the morning, with a lung-busting pace that leaves you dehydrated and feeling queasy by the end of it.

As if to add insult to injury, Leigh Shaw doubles back to where you're lagging behind, barely hanging on for dear life. She flashes that cheeky grin, says, “Try to keep up,” and takes off again like it's nothing. You're left gasping for air, your heart screaming in agony as you attempt to match her pace, but Leigh's already a blur ahead. 

She was right—your endurance is really nowhere to be seen. It's in these moments, as you're pushing past what you thought were your limits, that you start to get why Leigh's both a pain and a push that was kind of missing before in your life. 

Leigh eventually vanishes around a corner, and consequently, you lose sight of her. You dig deep, pushing yourself to keep going, refusing to quit out of stubbornness and curiosity of what your body could do. By some miracle, you make it to the finish line, which turns out to be that park you've been to only once before with Matt. He had made it a special day with sandwiches and comics, while you got lost in a book he swore you’d love. You can’t shake off the feeling that this place is significant for Leigh and Matt too.

When you finally stumble in, there's Leigh, chilling on the grass, looking like she's lost in thought, her eyes dark with something you can't quite put your finger on. But then she spots you, and it's like someone flipped a switch. She’s back to the flippant Leigh—easygoing, as if nothing’s amiss.

“Was half expecting to find you passed out somewhere back there,” Leigh smirks up at you.

You can’t help but flop down next to her, letting the sun beat down on your face, feeling every bit of your skin that's exposed soaking up the warmth. Thirst claws at your throat, fierce and unforgiving. Gathering the little energy you have left, you manage to ask, “How long have you been waiting?”

Leigh glances at you, her casual ease belying the brief glimpse of concern you thought you'd seen earlier. “Oh, about five minutes,” she says, her tone light, as if the grueling run was nothing more than a leisurely stroll for her.

You pant out, “Why are you so fast, anyway?” 

Leigh bursts into laughter, finding your question absurdly funny. “Fast? Me? That's hardly competitive speed, you're just... completely out of shape.”

You pout, feeling slightly offended but too exhausted to argue. Stretching out beside her, you let out a series of groans and pops, feeling your muscles protest and then slowly relax. “Feels like I'm a hundred years old,” you mutter with a heavy sigh.

Still chuckling, Leigh shakes her head. “I've been running for three years now. It's more of a hobby, really, but I need to stay active for my job at the Beautiful Beast. Or my mom will fire me.”

“Your family owns that place?”

Leigh corrects you quickly, “Not my family, just my mom. And being the owner's daughter doesn't give me a pass to slack off. I can't afford to be terrible at my job.”

Her distinction between “my family” and “my mom” sticks with you. It seems like a clue into her family dynamics. In the short time you've known her, Leigh comes across as straightforward, genuinely helpful, and yes, perhaps a bit quick-tempered, but overall...she's okay. 

More than okay, actually. She must be incredible to those she truly cares about. So, what went wrong with her and Matt? How could he betray her like that? It’s even more baffling when you remember Leigh saying they were trying for a baby. That detail still turns your stomach, and you're endlessly grateful you never went down that path with him, despite once wishing things had gone differently.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't realize how intently you've been staring at Leigh until she calls you out on it. “What is it?” she asks, her voice pulling you back to the present.

Flustered, you find yourself asking the question that's been simmering in your mind, since you first pulled on your sneakers for that 5k this morning. “Why'd you bring me along for your run? Why are you even helping me?”

Leigh just gives an offhand shrug, says, “Well, you didn't have to show up, so you're actually helping yourself.”

“Fair enough,” you reply, but can't shake off a bit of disappointment. The truth is, you were hoping she'd say something that suggested she was up for being friends, or at least saw you as more than just another client of hers.

It's weird, really, why you keep wanting to be friends with Leigh Shaw.

Suddenly, Leigh glances at her watch and looks up at you. “Ready to go?” she asks, a bit impatiently.

“If I can still walk after this, sure,” you say, half-joking, half-serious, feeling the effects of the run in every muscle.

Leigh laughs at that, a genuine, hearty laugh that lights up her face. It's a sound that's real and unguarded, making you think that maybe, becoming friends with her isn't such a far-fetched idea after all.

-

Yoga sessions with Leigh stick to the script you first stumbled into. She's all business, only really tossing you a nod or a word when your form goes sideways. “Shoulders down, back straight,” she corrects you, her voice firm, yet not unkind. Outside of that, you might as well blend into the walls for all the personal attention she gives, just like anyone else there. Everyone gets the same treatment—tough love, dished out in equal measure.

Despite her imposing presence, there's something else, a depth to her that often seems just out of reach. You catch her sometimes, looking out the window with a distant gaze. But then she blinks, shakes it off, and is back, fully attentive and ready to guide the next pose.

“Focus on your breathing,” Leigh's voice snaps you out of your focus on her. “Inhale deeply, and as you exhale, sink deeper into the pose.”

Determined to excel, you pour all your effort into being the student Leigh doesn’t need to worry about. Ironically, your diligence only seems to make you more invisible to her. As you master the poses with less need for correction, Leigh's interactions with you dwindle further.

After class, you toy with the idea of approaching her. Maybe get some feedback, or even suggest grabbing dinner together so you don't have to eat alone. But as you're putting together what to say, you notice Leigh seems in a hurry. She exchanges a few quick words with another instructor who's just arrived, and before you can decide, she's excusing herself and heading out.

The moment to ask her has slipped away, leaving you to pack your yoga mat with a resigned sigh. 

Another time, then, you think.

-

The next day, without another invite from Leigh for a run, you lace up your shoes and follow the same route you and Leigh took together. Just 20 minutes into the run, the solo effort feels more like a chore than the engaging challenge it was with company. You loop the route four times, hoping maybe to cross paths with Leigh purely by coincidence, but she’s nowhere to be found. 

The studio had announced last night that Leigh’s yoga classes would be temporarily led by a different teacher, with her expected to return next week. This bit of news leaves you mulling about her absence, kind of hoping you might accidentally run into her to find out more. But as the week goes by without any such encounters, you realize you actually know very little about her daily routines or habits. Despite the nagging curiosity, you refrain from texting her, not wanting to intrude or anything.

Admittedly, your motivation to work out dipped slightly without Leigh being part of it.

-

When you finally talk yourself into visiting Matt’s grave, you do so just minutes before it could get really dark. You've chosen this time deliberately, betting on the common fear that keeps most people away from cemeteries as night approaches. 

Your main concern isn't the general public, though; it's just Leigh. Past experiences have shown that encounters with her can happen unexpectedly and in the most random of places—like that night at the club when she ended up getting sick just a few inches away from you. You're not here out of a longing for Matt. Instead, you aim to properly close this chapter of your life, hoping to do so without running into his widow and giving her the wrong impression.

The air holds a chill that wasn't there when you left home, making you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself. It’s quiet, just the sound of your own footsteps crunching softly on the path. Being here as the day turns to night, watching shadows stretch out long and skinny, really gets you thinking about life, death, and everything else in-between. Maybe that's also why people avoid this place—it sort of forces you to face the music, making you curious if all the things you're wrapped up in are actually important or utterly pointless. 

As for you, you haven't quite figured out where you stand on that yet. Lately, you've really come into your own in your career, especially now that you’re seeing the profits steadily rising each month. But that sense of achievement fades each evening as you return to your empty apartment. It's just you, night after night, pushing through the grind, pouring everything into your job. Yet, when you try to envision where you'll be in five years from now, the picture isn't clear. Will you be settling down with someone, or just picking up the pieces from another relationship that’s gone awry?

Finding Matt's grave takes a moment, but when you do, your heart clenches. It’s just a simple stone with his name, the years he was here, and a couple of words(you’re guessing it’s Leigh who wrote them) about him. 

You kneel down, the grass cool and slightly damp beneath you, and lay the flowers you've brought on his grave. They look kind of bright against the dimming light. Like hope.

“Hey Matt,” you say, stepping into a silence that feels like it's hanging around, just waiting for you to fill it. Talking to a dead person feels ridiculous like they do in the movies, but it's not like anyone's around to hear you.

“You know, I met Leigh,” you begin. “Your wife you conveniently forgot to mention when you were busy asking me out.”

There's a sour edge to your voice, airing grievances to a guy who can't throw back excuses anymore. You can't help but chuckle, though it's more bitter than amused. You let your thoughts more freely now, like the barrier between you and Matt has thinned out with the honesty. 

“Leigh is… beautiful, you know? Not in that runway or social media kind of way, but in a manner that's hard to just overlook.” 

You could list a dozen more positive things about Leigh to tell Matt, but he already knew all that, didn't he?

“The first time I met her, I felt small, maybe even insecure. And now?” you shake your head, smiling slightly. “...I still do. But mostly, I'm just left thinking…” You pause. The next thought isn't really for Matt, not anymore. 

It’s for you.

“I just can't wrap my head around why you'd want to be with me when you had her. I feel like the murder weapon that's trying to seek justice for its victim.” You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Not a great spot to be in, honestly. Makes me feel kind of helpless, you know?"

Sitting back, you take a moment, just looking at the headstone, at the name etched into the granite. The conversation, if you can call it that, feels like it's shifted something inside you. Not closure, exactly, but maybe the first step towards understanding—or at least accepting—that some things just don't make sense.

Standing up, you dust off your knees, taking one last look at the grave. “Anyway, Matt, I hope you've found peace. It looks like we're all searching for a little of that ourselves. Thanks for the book suggestions. Though, you might be a bit disappointed to hear Agatha Christie remains my top favorite.”

As you walk away from Matt's grave, it feels as though you're leaving a piece of yourself behind to rest with him. You decide then, as the cemetery gate closes behind you with a gentle click, that you won't let this page in your book define you. Maybe tomorrow, you'll try a new coffee shop, or take a different route to work. Small changes, but important ones.

Maybe you’ll even try that spin class that scares you so.

-

“Since when did you start living at the gym?” Suzie teases you from her spot across the desk, that signature playful, all-knowing arch to her eyebrow.

Suzie, who had originally come on board as a receptionist at your vet clinic with little more than enthusiasm and a genuine love for animals to her name, had quickly become much more than just a staff member. Her lack of relevant experience was initially a concern, but her dedication and the way she connected with both the animals and their owners made it clear she was a perfect fit. Over time, she evolved from being just the receptionist to a friend. 

A friend who seems to enjoy teasing you, though.

“First off, it’s hardly the gym. It’s this fitness class I’ve been trying out—big distinction,” you clarify, eyes glued on your phone. The last half hour has been a slow crawl towards 5 PM, the magical hour when you can finally shut down and head to Leigh’s class at Beautiful Beast.

“Tomatoes, to-mah-toes,” she quips.

“Not the same thing,” you insist, still not fully engaged in the conversation, your focus on a food article you're reading.

Suzie just waves her hand dismissively. “Semantics. But seriously, you've been really into whatever this is. There's gotta be a guy making those sweat sessions worth it.”

You can't help but laugh, the idea so off base it circles back to being hilarious. 

“Trust me, the allure isn't the sweat. It's those endorphins,” you say.

“Yeah, sure,” she drawls, unconvinced. “Come on. Who is it? I know you're not this amped to be all gross and sweaty for nothing.”

“There's no guy, Suzie.” Then, as if the thought just occurred to you, you add, “Or girl. But honestly, there's really no one.”

At that, Suzie's expression shifts from playful teasing to one of pleasant surprise and a touch of mock offense. “Hold up, you might be into girls? And here I was, shooting my shot in the dark this whole time!”

Your ears burn red at her blunt flirtation. “Suzie, come on,” you stammer.

“If I had known that was on the table, I would’ve upped my game ages ago,” she says, her wink sending your face from warm to inferno.

“You’re impossible,” you manage to say as you hurry to collect your things, ready to rush out the door.

“Impossibly into you,” she retorts saucily.

“I’m gonna have to fire you, you know,” you mutter jokingly, glancing at your watch. “Gotta run, bye!”

“Just so we're clear, the offer stands,” she adds, still grinning.

-

You feel a sense of relief seeing Leigh back in class. 

Though the website clearly stated her schedule, you found yourself on edge until you could see Leigh with your own eyes. There's nothing noticeably different about her; Leigh seems just as composed and in control as ever. When she catches you looking, she offers a small, somewhat dismissive smile before turning her attention elsewhere. 

You spend the whole session with your energy dialed up, partly because Leigh's presence just does that, and partly because you're already plotting. As soon as she calls time on the session, you're practically springing into action. Your belongings—a water bottle, towel, and the rest—land in a haphazard pile on the floor as you quickly stand up, eager to catch her before she disappears. You make your way toward her, determined not to let her slip away this time.

Leigh's busy packing up her own gear, her back to you as you close the distance. “Hey, Leigh,” you say, and it sounds like you've got this under control, even if your heart's hammering away in your chest. She turns, and there's a flicker of surprise in her expression. You’re hoping it’s the good kind of surprise.

“I'm really glad you're back,” you push on, hoping it doesn't sound as clumsy to her as it does in your head.

She takes a swig from her water bottle, giving you a once-over, and then says, “Thanks. Do you need anything?” There's an expectant look in her eyes, and in that moment, your confidence begins to wane, melting under her gaze. You're on the spot, scrambling for words, any words that don't involve asking her out for dinner, which suddenly seems like an insurmountable task.

“Uh, actually,” you start, your mind racing to find a safe topic, “I was wondering if you had any tips on improving my form?”

Leigh's expression softens, and she nods, setting her water bottle down. “Sure, I can show you a few things. Let's go back to the mats,” she suggests, leading the way. Despite feeling like your tank is on empty and your body crying for hydration, backing down doesn’t feel like an option. 

Not when Leigh is already spreading her mat next to yours. She does so with a sort of blasé authority, and you can't help but think how this is Leigh all over—straight to the point, no fuss. You're tired, sure, and a part of you is suggesting that you're about to make a fool of yourself with your shaky legs and probably even shakier form. But then, Leigh starts talking, pointing out where you're going wrong and how to fix it, and suddenly, you're not thinking about dinner anymore. You’re too distracted now by the smell of her perfume mixed with the scent of her sweat.

The next few minutes turn into what feels like a whole new session under Leigh's watchful eyes. She's on you about everything—the angle of your arm, the set of your shoulders, even the way you're distributing your weight on your feet. Leigh's not mean about it, but she doesn't let anything slide. You're just trying to keep up, watching her move with that easy confidence. It's mesmerizing, really, how she can make something so complex look so simple.

By the time you're done, your muscles are burning, your breath is ragged, and you're pretty sure you've sweated out every last drop of water in your body. As you lie there, staring at the ceiling and asking yourself how a ten-minute guidance turned into an even harder session, you mentally kick yourself for not just admitting you wanted company for dinner. It was right there, and you were too scared to be rejected. 

But why? Considering everything that's happened and the circumstances, Leigh turning you down seems like the more probable outcome anyway.

And then Leigh does something totally offbeat. She glances at the clock, then back at you, and out of nowhere, she's asking, “Want to grab something to eat?”

It's so unexpected, that for a moment, you're sure you misheard her. But Leigh's waiting for an answer, a slight smile playing on her lips, and suddenly, the fatigue feels a little less overwhelming. You sit up, a slow grin spreading across your face as you realize this is it—your chance, handed to you when you least expected it.

“Yeah,” you finally manage to say, almost tripping over your tongue. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

-

When Leigh mentioned grabbing something to eat, you expected a sit-down at some cozy restaurant serving healthy food. Instead, she pulls into the drive-thru of a fast-food joint, orders a mountain of fries and a couple of burgers, and parks the car in a secluded spot overlooking the city. It's laid-back, unpolished, and honestly, pretty perfect.

“So, how long have you been in town?” Leigh asks as she hands you a burger, the city lights twinkling below like a scattered deck of glowing cards.

“Just over a year,” you reply, taking a hearty bite of your burger. “Moved here for the business opportunity, but it’s been... you know, slow on the social front.”

Leigh nods, understandingly. “It can be tough, starting fresh somewhere. This place isn't the friendliest to newcomers.”

Your eyebrow lifts, curious whether she's speaking from her own experiences or perhaps someone else's.

“Yeah, most of my socializing happens online these days. My closest friends are scattered across different states,” you say.

Leigh just hums a bit, not really adding anything else. She doesn't go into details about her own friends, so you're left trying to think of something else to talk about. But everything that comes to mind feels too personal, like asking why she wasn't at the Beautiful Beast for a week, how she's dealing with being a widow, or questions about her family.

Small talk isn't really your thing, so the conversation fizzles out from here. Both of you just end up staring out at the city lights in silence. Leigh seems comfortable with it though, so you decide to just go with it and savor the quiet moment too.

After a while, Leigh breaks the silence. “I didn't think I'd be able to love another dog after Rogue,” she shares, not taking her eyes off the cityscape. “Matt and I had to put her down because she was sick. It was brutal. I swore off dogs after that.”

You look over at her and offer a soft, “I'm sorry.”

But there's no trace of sadness on her face. It’s so nonchalant, almost as if she’s just talking about the weather and not a painful memory.

“But then...I saw Visitor,” she goes on, a small smile cracking through. “I just knew he needed me. And, this might sound odd, but I realized I wanted to feel needed. When Matt—” She stumbles over his name, a rare falter, but she's quick to brush it off. “When he died, nobody needed me. And I struggled with that. Because being needed felt like a purpose.”

The idea of needing to be needed isn't something you've ever considered. Truth is, you've never really needed anyone. You've been a solo act for as long as you can remember, handling things on your own, relying solely on your own capabilities. And so, that also meant you couldn't imagine being on the other side of the spectrum—being needed by someone.

However, there's a part of you, unexpectedly, that feels a twinge of jealousy towards Leigh. To truly experience loss, there first has to be something meaningful to lose. You're not sure you've ever let yourself have that kind of bond with anyone. Not yet, anyway. It's a sobering thought, making you think about what you might be missing out on.

Leigh notices you're not saying much and says, “I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I'm sorry.”

You shake your head slightly, “It's okay. I just... I don't think I've ever been in your shoes.”

Leigh looks a bit puzzled. “What do you mean? Are you talking about the dog thing, or…?”

“The other thing,” you clarify.

Leigh smirks. “Oh, I wish I was like that.”

You quickly realize how arrogant that must have sounded, so you rush to explain, “No, I'm not trying to brag or anything. It's just, I guess I've never really opened myself up to that kind of bond.”

“Not even with Matt?” she asks, and there it is—the topic of Matt you've been tiptoeing around. You're suddenly aware that Matt's shadow is something you'll have to get used to, just as Leigh apparently has, given the unceremonious way she alludes to your almost-affair with her late husband. 

“No,” you whisper, looking straight into Leigh's eyes, hoping she’ll believe you. “We never needed each other like that.”

Leigh's eyes linger on yours a moment longer before she looks away. Eager to change the subject, you add, “Must've been rough, giving Visitor back to his real family.”

“Yeah. I mean, I shouldn't be, right? But part of me was actually angry at them for letting him get away like that. He could've been hit by a car or worse, all because they weren't careful. But at the end of the day,” she stops, a sigh escaping her, and that smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes comes back as she looks at you again. “He’s not mine.”

“Visitor really snuck into your heart, didn’t he?”

Leigh nods. “I wasn't expecting to care that much, you know?” Then, she offers a small, reflective chuckle. “Makes you think about the connections we allow ourselves to have, and the ones we avoid, doesn't it?”

You try to gauge whether she's still talking about Visitor while also trying to figure out where you stand—the connections she's chosen or the ones she sidesteps?  Before you find the courage to ask, Leigh starts the car and presses down on the clutch, ready to switch gears.

“I need to head back to the studio, so I can only drop you off somewhere on the way,” Leigh says, signaling the end of your time together for now.

You quickly decide that being dropped off at the studio is fine. “The Beautiful Beast works for me,” you reply, hoping to extend the time you have left with her, even if it's just by a few minutes. 

The ride is quiet, the earlier ease replaced by a thoughtful silence. You're watching her, the way she's all eyes on the road but clearly lost in her head. Leigh, as you’ve noticed, is someone hard to get to open up, her walls built high and strong. She's this fortress of a person, but tonight felt different, like she accidentally left a window open and you caught a glimpse inside. 

It just makes you crave for more.

As the studio comes into view, it feels like you've both made some progress with Leigh and yet, somehow, not made any at all. Stepping out of the car, you’re met by Jules, another staff member at the Beautiful Beast whom you've heard Leigh refer to numerous times, approaches. You barely catch her saying, “Danny is waiting for you inside,” to Leigh. You miss the frown on Jules's face or how Leigh instantly seems on edge.

“Thanks for the ride—and for dinner,” you say, feeling a bit out of place now.

“Don't get used to it,” she says, the corners of her lips twisting into a reluctant smile. “Was nice talking, though. Thanks for not making it weird.”

As she's quickly pulled away by whatever's going on inside, you hover for a second, debating if you should go in for a goodbye hug. But before you know it, Leigh is tossing a quick “Bye” in your direction as she strides towards the studio.

You're left there, floating in the aftermath, wondering about everything and nothing all at once.

[leftoverbriocheloaf]

10 for the ask game :D

Oh lord ok for context I am an asexual who thinks one-night stands as plot devices are really underutilized in comedy and genuinely doesnt understand sexual attraction so

I just wanted a funny hijinks fic and I think Poe and Chuuya would be really good friends and complain about their very smart but frustrating detective bfs but I had no idea how they would meet and I was like what if they were drunk lmao and then this fic was born NO JUDGING

_______

Poe’s first coherent thought, beyond ‘Ow,’ is ‘I am never drinking again.’

It's not that he's unfamiliar with hangovers, but he can definitely say it's been a while. This is probably his first since college. More tired than he’s felt in years, Poe slaps his hand over his eyes, trying to block out the light from his windows that are usually never open. He shifts, barely, and the bed dips– more than it would if Karl had decided to jump on it, unless Karl had multiplied in size that night. He looks over and meets blue eyes that look just as disoriented as he feels.

His third thought of the morning is:

'God, I am never drinking again.'

***

“So–” Nakahara fucking Chuuya, because apparently Poe really knows how to pick them, grimaces, “We aren’t ever going to speak about this again, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Poe agrees, his head in his hands.

“I don’t fuckin’ remember anything anyway,” Nakahara snorts. “Can’t believe I nabbed a damn Guild member though. Hope this isn’t treason.”

“I’m not a member of the Guild anymore,” Poe responds absentmindedly. “And frankly, that makes two of us. I can’t remember a thing.”

“Wait–” Nakahara raises an eyebrow, his tone curious. “You’re a part of the agency then?”

Poe huffs a laugh, shaking his head, “No. I tried to kill them– I’m fairly certain they wouldn’t give me an offer after that.”

“We have that in common, then.”

Poe turns to Nakahara, about to question, before, “Oh. Mafia.”

He stops. Blinks.

“You’re an executive in the mafia.”

“Wanna fuckin’ shout it from the window next?”

“No, I– Sorry,” he frowns when Nakahara crosses his arms, the redhead's expression amused. “This is simply… not great for my civilian cover. Probably.”

“Your raccoon isn’t great for your civilian cover.”

“Karl is very polite–” Poe argues quickly, before, “Shit. Where’s Karl?”

It’s more of a question to himself, because Karl has a habit of knowing exactly when Poe wakes no matter the day and showing up immediately. If Poe doesn’t wake up fast enough, Karl will usually take the initiative to wake him up himself.

Anyway, he does not expect Nakahara to sigh.

He also does not expect Nakahara’s hair to be long enough to hide an entire raccoon.

“Lil’ fucker won’t leave,” he explains like this is an annoying, but not a particularly interesting, occurrence. Poe just stares. “No clue how he got there though.”

Poe blinks absently, his rational brain apparently deciding to take a long vacation, and altogether gives up on trying to piece together the situation. “And you weren’t bringing it up because…?”

Nakahara's cheeks turn pink, “He’s comfy. Not a big deal.”

“How long as he–”

“Dunno.”

Poe almost laughs at the absurdity of the situation. Instead, he breathes deeply before moving to stand.

“Well, I’m going to, um,” he motions for the door awkwardly, “Get Karl some food. Do you want... coffee or something?” What the hell is the procedure for this?

Nakahara takes a moment to think about the question, but then winces, “I’ll pass. I should probably leave, actually.”

Poe nods robotically as he leaves the room, thanking any deities out there that Karl removes himself from Nakahara without Poe having to intervene. He remains entirely silent as he slices a few pieces of fruit for the raccoon, who accepts them gladly, and then Nakahara steps into the kitchen.

“I’m gonna– uh, head out.” 

Poe gives a thumbs up, and then seriously considers jumping out the window because what the hell? And then, because he’s the pinnacle of extrovertedness, he adds, “Thanks for– um– coming, Nakahara-san.”

Kill him. 

Nakahara blinks, then nods in what Poe recognizes as an attempt to hide his growing amusement.

“Just Chuuya is fine,” he waves behind him as he opens the door, “And yeah, bye Edgar.”

The door shuts, and Karl looks at Poe like it's his fault his new best friend just left. Whatever, Karl. Poe is already regretting his decisions in life, he doesn’t need a raccoon pouting at him too. He sighs.

Damn, now he feels bad. 

He gives Karl another piece as an apology, despite the fact that he has not voiced a single one of his thoughts aloud. 

Then, Poe goes back to bed.

_______

I have no idea if this au is funnier before or after Poe and Ranpo lock Chuuya in a book but I just think they'd be good friends and it would be really funny if sometime later in the plot they try to help each other with their respective love lives and Dazai and Ranpo are like how the hell do you know each other

I actually have a scene following this where after the events of the vampire incident there's a group meeting between the Guild (Poe is there bc he was helping Ranpo during the fight) the ADA and the Port Mafia and Karl is so excited to see Chuuya that Fukazawa is like "ah do you... know each other?" and Poe says "we've met" really quickly and awkwardly while Chuuya tries not to die laughing

[starillusion13]

Hi! are u still accepting requests?

i love your badboy wooyoung fic <3, by any chance could you write a Mingi x reader? where they're both dance teachers at summer camp and every one teases them but kinda enemies to lovers thats the main idea, you can add anything u want <3, but i i'm tired of the shy innocent reader i want tension >:(

I’m in love…

Pairing: dance teacher! Mingi x dance teacher! reader (ft. Heesung my love)

Genre: Fluff, Enemies to Lovers, summer camp au

W.C: 4.8k

Warnings: nothing major, just a story of two person oblivion to each other’s feelings and falling in love after a dance.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. ngl but my next fic in queue was again angst but I am posting this on @mymoodwriting her suggestion and as I love my bestie too much so I have posted this first.

.

“Cheers for the winning team ‘Blockbusters’!”

The winner team cheered with the trophy in their leader’s hand and their dance teacher smiling widely with the students surrounding you in a cheering circle. All filling you with thankful and funny words making your smile wider. Afterall, the win they got was only because of you. You were the one who worked hard for the ideas and choreographies to be on the point so that your students could win the competition and then there was the result of the first week dance competition of your team being the winner.

Your youngest student hugged your side and some awed at you as if you were his older sister. You patted his head and urged everyone else to have their snacks provided at the counter as they already were so tired and hungry. The youngest one ran fast with his friend and you laughed looking at them all cheering and joking in their way towards the food counter.

The leader had already handed you the trophy and you stared at it in your hold. Their every achievement always felt like your own and it really feels good every time. Your dream to become a dance trainer at a big training company was slowly being achieved step by step. Small steps from these summer camps to state challenges and then country recognition and then one day, you will be a part of the dance trainer crew of your dream company.

You smiled to yourself and shook your head to dismiss the thoughts. Placing the trophy on the table as you turned around, only to come face to face with the man with folded hands above his buff chest, sleeves of white shirt folded till elbow and a denim bottom and striking the appearance with a black sunglass.

Always extra…but always perfect.

“Aren’t you too happy just for a win in a summer camp competition?” he asked you and walked towards you.

You glanced towards the cafeteria and smiled, “of course, every small thing matters to me. It’s not like if I want to do something big, it can possibly be achieved out of nowhere.”

He scoffed, “it was just a little competition. You haven’t won the state or country ones. Just among the few schools who gathered in this camp.”

“if it’s really nothing then why are you so pissed, Mingi. Work harder. Maybe next time, you gotta smiling in my position.” You smirked in the end.

He swiftly moved the sunglass from the eyes to place it on the head, revealing his droopy eyes and his intimidating aura shining under the fading sunlight. However, he pisses you off every time but still he is always the most handsome dance teacher among the five schools. No wait, Heesung is there too but that one is a one bid flirty player and you can’t act like Ms. Sana who would give a blind eye to his flirty talks and still appreciating his visual and dance moves. Mingi and Heesung’s group always comes the finale ones to compete against each other but this time, your group beat the second group and was the one to compete with Mingi’s.

“Don’t be proud so much. I will surely win next time.” he stated and inserted his thumbs inside the jean’s pockets on both the side. His every moment was being getting noticed by you.

“Let’s see.” You winked at him before turning back to pick up the water bottle. Before you could even get a slight tip of it, someone took the bottle and held it up. You rolled your eyes before going for another but he did the same thing again. You glared and turned to your side.

“What’s your problem?” you exhaled and licked your lips.

“what’s with that attitude, y/n? You know I’m already a part of training agency so as well as Heesung so don’t even think yourself greater than either of us.” His droopy eyes piercing down on you.

You crossed your hands above your chest and huffed in annoyance. You looked over in a distant place, keeping your gaze away from him. He was almost towering over you. You could feel his perfume directly and he was close enough than other times. But to your oblivion, his gaze was fixed on you, eyes scanning every little texture of your face. The tiny details of your make-up less features. Sweats lining your face and he felt an urge to wipe them off. He placed one bottle on the table to his side and offered the other one to you.

“drink it. You’re sweating and maybe thirsty.” He said in a monotonous way.

You squinted your eyes to judge his intention to which he just rolled his eyes, “are you somehow being a kind one, now? It’s very unusual of you.”

“Look y/n. don’t always get on my nerves. I was offering you this because you look like you can fall unconscious of exhaustion anytime. I don’t want to carry this weak body to the infirmary.” He almost rapped the words.

A frown appeared on your face, “weak? Me? Excuse me! but don’t think of me like Sana. I’m not that porcelain doll to break with a little push.” You snatched the bottle from his grip.

“then are you a dancing doll, y/n?” he laughed and smirked.

You hissed, “Mingi…”

“At this point, I must believe you both just find a reason to argue so that you can meet with each other. I am not surprised that I could find you guys here when everyone else is inside the main building.” Heesung’s voice coming from the way leading from the ground for physical activities. He was having a cheerful and flirty glint in his eyes.

He popped a chips inside his mouth and offered you one. You raised your hand to take it but the piece got taken away by Mingi and Heesung laughed loudly. You forcedly opened the sealed cap of the bottle and glared at both of them before gulping down the bottle, almost choking on it. The grip on the bottle was too tight, the victim of your anger.

“look, tell your friend Mingi not to piss me off everytime he sees me alone anywhere.” you said and started collecting your belongings from the table.

“my friend? Aren’t both of you friend as well?” Heesung asked and chuckled.

“Never!” “What?”

“oh Geez! Calm down. Don’t shout like teenagers. You both really hate each other. Anyways, y/n congratulations for the win. The dance moves and the centre choice were really nice. Your brain is sexy.”

Mingi scoffed and giving him a side eye, you replied to Heesung with a smile, “Thank you so much, Heesung. I’m glad you pointed out the main changes this year unlike someone who couldn’t even utter a simple congratulations to someone. Always a competitive one.”

“come on, Mingi. Kiss her and tell her that you really did love her dance moves. “

“yeah! It will be so nice to see a new couple in this camp.” Sana’s soft and cheerful voice neared you all. You looked over to her direction. She was already staring at Heesung who was glancing in her way. She pout and you shook your head in disbelief.

Them. not only them but other teachers present in the camp, even some older students urge you both every day to get together because according to them,

‘the people who fight on silly things are the real couples.’

How you despise this thought!

you grabbed your things and left the scenario with their eyes following your way. Heesung and Sana laughed but Mingi’s expression was serious, watching your figure intently getting away from the spot. He stepped forward when the other one stopped him and asked him to go with him towards the ground. He glanced towards your way but nodded to him and walked away.

He might be the one pissed you today but generally that was not his intention.

.

.

.

Usually, the camps last for eight weeks for your school and same goes for the other schools present there as well but this time, it would be more than just eight weeks and you had to meet him more than usual. You groaned at the thought before plopping on the bed. The dance competition held was in the first week of the camp and there would be many other activities and competitions everyday and even if there’s respective teachers but you can’t just be free from any schedules as you need to be the assistant in some activities.

Every year after you joined this school, you always looked forward to this summer camps because in your childhood, you loved spending your days in summer camp and after joining this school as dance teacher, you got the chance to relive your childhood days again.

But the second year, you came across this particular person while you were cheering for few students who were competing with each other in a particular water activity. Someone stood beside you and boring hole onto your side, you previously brushed off the weird feeling but then when you looked at the person, you caught him staring at you. You furrowed your eyebrows and scanned his face because you never saw him earlier during any other activities and there was no new school or maybe you had forgot the person. Afterall, you were new and still learning many things. You licked your lips and tugged your hairs behind your ear, before sending him a small smile.

“Are you new here?” his voice was heavy and his look was so intimidating that you felt so small in front of him but you stood strong on your spot.

You nodded and replied, “yeah…I joined last year. And you?” you raised your hand for a shake but well he just stared at it. You waited for few seconds but when he didn’t raise his hand, you curled your fingers and retreated your hand by your side, suppressing your annoyance in the fist.

“are you the new dance teacher?” he asked again.

“yes. And you are?” you asked in an unsure tone, didn’t actually feel like he would reply you but surprisingly he did.

“I am the dance teacher from St. Joseph’s ‘Sparkling’ Team. Myself, Mingi.”

Oh great. So this man is a dance teacher like you. Well, his physique and appearance really did give off an idol image and you wont be surprise if he is secretly an idol or a trainee.

 You nodded, “y/n, from St. Mary’s ‘Blockbuster’ Team.”

And that’s it. There was an awkward silence between you both followed by the cheers of the students who were splashing water in the enjoyment of their win.

You smiled towards them and clapped your hands, similarly Mingi smiled a bit too but he was staring at you.

.

.

.

The first meeting was usually a friendly one, maybe a not-so-friendly one but you were pretty much sure that the following events occurred after the meet was not in your checklist.

With passing of days, you noticed him more. He was a secretive person and even though he wanted something or wanted to express something, he would rather stay neutral in his expression but will encourage his students with warm and comforting words. Of course, him being the teacher of the opponent team sparked a curiosity inside you to know him better. Oh girl! How wrong you were that it was only you! But something similar thoughts came across his mind as well. Oblivion to each other, both of you started to get to know each other.

Starting from asking your colleagues or the close ones in the camps about each other then staring too long than usual and getting caught by each other. Bumping into each other and him blaming you for crossing his path. Well, it was all pretty much okay until you started noticing him around you more. And, people be enjoying such dramas a lot. They even started teasing you that both of you were attracted to each other but oblivion to your feelings.

“what are you doing here?” he asked you and with the tip of his boot, he played with a stone.

“I didn’t know you don’t have eyes to see. Maybe, you don’t have a brain to understand it.” You stifled your laugh and turned around with the mat in your hand.

He picked up the stone and threw in your direction. It hit your calve but it was too small to actually hit you painfully, but when you turned around to glare at him, irritated with his obvious daily mischievous acts, you found him smirking at you.

“I have my eyes on useful things not on these useless stuffs.”

“and, that is?” you raised a brow.

“why will I answer your questions, dancing doll?”

Dancing doll. Gosh, you hate this name the most. Yeah, your friends and colleagues sometimes love to call each other with few nicknames but his nickname, oh wait no no that’s not a nickname. He was literally mocking at you.

“I will turn you into a doll if you don’t stop calling me that name.” you glared and bumped his side before leaving him there.

He smiled to your act and whispered, “my eyes are always on you, doll.”

Whenever you both got to hear those teasing, your first move was to glare at him only to get a bored look from him. But are you really angry or just pretending to be?

Your pretending is not accurate then.

Same thing repeated in every summer. At this point, you were sure to throw him into water if next time, he irritates you again. You previously thought that meeting him was only limited to summer camps. But never expected out of nowhere, he will be in a common friend’s group. Yunho and Wooyoung both were your friends from the dance training club and when Mingi got to know that you are friends with his childhood friends, oh he got a damn excuse to meet you every weekend whenever you all made plans.

You were being caught staring at him a lot. Yunho even once tried to convince you to date his best friend because you were the right one for him and you threatened him that if he ever tried to convince you again then you will beat his ass. Or your usual sentence.

“Yunho, if you are so worried then bestfriends should help each other. Go and marry him.”

But actually deep down, you were freaking out with the thought of you and him together. You were sure on one thing that you did have a crush on him. Maybe not a huge one but almost like that. What about him though?

Oh about him? he might can kidnap you any day to keep you for himself. The way he glares at Heesung whenever he tries to flirt with you or tease you with sweet talks. The intrusive thoughts coming to his minds are dangerous but what can he even do? You are never his. But soon he will make it possible, not maybe apply those thoughts but to make you his.

.

.

.

Next dance competition was in the end of the month and you had already taught them some of it but still some more practices were needed. Meanwhile, the students had some other stuffs to keep them engaged as well, like water activities, group projects, social activities and so on. Your love for water activities led you to have some fun with them as well. You were enjoying with the students in the pool activities when someone splashed into the water. You shielded your eyes with one hand and watched the person. And it reminded you of the first day, you met him.

“wow! The dive was so cool.” A student beside you cheered.

When the person raised his head from the water surface and pushed back his wet hairs. Oh you were losing yourself with the view. His white shirt with top three buttons undone and the water making it teasingly see through and sticking to his tanned skin with the broad chest view. The whistle sound made every student to run out of water and the sudden push made you slip your leg and there was nothing to hold to make you still but to your relief, you didn’t fall. A strong hand around your waist, pulling your side to his front.

“are you okay?”

You nodded and tried to push him away but he pulled you closer with your back pressed to the marble edges of the pool with him too close to your front.

“why are you running away?” he asked you slowly and brushed your hairs out of your face. His every touch hitching your breath and you caught his wrist when it stopped on your cheek.

“why are you doing this?” you asked him in return,

He chuckled, “doing what? Tell me you are not liking this.”

“and if I tell you no, then will your ego be hurt?” you raised a brow.

He smirked, “my ego won’t be hurt because no is not coming out of your pretty lips. It’s either stupid things or fake threats.”

“I swear, Mingi.”

He laughed at your response. But your moment soon got interrupted by Heesung.

“look, I should feel jealous of you to get her like this but as I’m already being aware of your relationship so I will let you have your fun but atleast come out of the water and go to your room. Children might see these unholy things.”

Mingi helped you out of the water and laughed. Why is he suddenly laughing? There was nothing to laugh about his speech.

“look, Heesung. Stop day dreaming about your online stories every time. There is no relationship between us.” You said and glared at them. Heesung snickered and suddenly got a call, before walking away he winked at you. You raised a fist towards him and he shook his head before turning back.

“go and get changed.” You turned your face when you felt his voice too close. He was close, towering over you with his big frame, shielding you from the direct sunlight. You stepped backward and he placed his palm on your lower back and pulled you. You could almost hear your heartbeat in your ears and before you could react to it, his cold lips touched your warm forehead. His slow breaths sent a chill shiver from top of your head to your toe, curling them tightly. His lips murmured to your skin, “I don’t want the dancing doll to fall sick.”

 He quickly stepped back and walked away to the ground, leaving you standing there too stunned to even move. You hugged yourself with your towel and went towards your room.

WHY DID HE KISS YOU?

It was already late for your arrival because you were practicing the steps to students on repeat and soon, you all were sitting around the fireplace. That was a free time for everyone and each one was having fun with some jokes or showing off their individual talents. You were so indulged in your thoughts about the afternoon kiss that you didn’t notice someone sat beside you and staring at your side.

He pinched your cheek and pulled you out of your thoughts. Rubbing the stinging area, you looked at him with a frown, “what?”

“Let’s dance.”

“are you serious right now?”

“more than you.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “why? Do you want to show others that even if your team lost last week but you are still the best dancer?”

“maybe something else.”

He replied you too fast and your heart beat increasing with each of his words. The more you were staring at him, the more intense the effect of the kiss was tingling on your forehead. His eyes were hiding a desire, a passion behind those dark orbs, his hooded eyes curtaining away the feelings for you just for a while. Heesung’s voice broke your eye contact with him. Mingi was craving to see your shining eyes looking back at him. He was feeling loved just by your eyes on him.

You swear you would make Heesung mute one day.

“Well Attention everyone. Why don’t we have something interesting?”

Everyone cheered to his announcement. You rolled your eyes already knowing some stupid words coming out of his mouth.

That man be really playing the cupid everytime.

“Let’s welcome our two best dancers Miss Y/N and Dancing king Mingi. Cheers everyone.” He clapped his hand and welcomed you both to the middle. You parted your lips to protest only to see an extended hand in front of you, your eyes followed the hand to his face.

“Mingi…”

“Come on, dancing doll.”

You hesitatingly grabbed his hand and stood up and went to the centre. You were never shy in public but today somehow every stare was making you anxious. Your grip tightened in his hold and his thumb caressed over your palm.

“let’s begin…”

Inception started playing and he was standing to your side but he was facing back to the crowd and you in front. He placed one hand above your chest, hovering over the collar bones and slowly whispered with the song, “I’m in love….” His eyes were on you.

Your wide eyes stared back at him in shock but still managed to change your position to the next step. Now you both were in exact opposite posture. You mouthed the lyrics, “I’m in love…” and looked towards him. He smiled in return. He quickly sat on one of his on the ground and you sat on the raised knee for mimicking the exact steps from the choreography. You swiftly moved to the side and he raised his hand in air and stood up and bringing it back to brush the fingers against his jaw and your breath hitched with the next step. As soon as you both faced each other, his fingers softly leaving feather touches on your cheek before retreating away.

The dance continued with you both doing the exact dance moves from the choreography but in each chorus, you were sure you lip synced the line, ‘I’m in love…’ but he lightly sang the part, ‘I’m gonna chase you..’

In the end when you both ended the dance with staring at each other. Everybody cheered for the strong and clean dance moves. Every one was sure that day that you both are the dancing king and queen of the camp.

But you both were sure with your feelings.

That you both were in love.

.

.

.

“wait, I need to talk to you.” Mingi grabbed your wrist and you were surprised with his sudden move. After the duet dance last week, you ignored him as much as you could but being in the same building it was not much possible and also, when a cupid is roaming around you.

“What?” you glanced at your watch. It was already past ten o’clock and you were heading towards your room.

A group of three teachers laughing and heading towards your direction made him quickly pull you towards the corner and pushed himself along with you inside the room. He signalled you to keep quiet and as soon as the group passed by the door. He sighed in relief.

“was that pull really necessary?”

“No. but to get away from their eyes was.”

“where are we? Whose room is this?” you looked around and was panicking how you entered a stranger’s room until he walked towards the edge of the bed and sat down.

“this is my room. Welcome to my room, dancing doll.”

“Can you please stop calling me that?”

“Maybe…yes…no. Never.”

You folded your hands in front and glared at him, “and can I know why are we here?”

He didn’t reply but ducked his head down and fiddling with his fingers. You waited for him to say something but nothing. He was acting as if you were not even standing just in front of him.

“If you don’t have anything to say, then I’m leaving.” You said and turned back. But his next words made you halted in your steps.

“I’m in love…with you, y/n.”

Did he just confess? You didn’t turn around because even if you wanted to give some savage reply to him, you felt yourself on the verge of lose of words. Nothing came across your mind to reject his confession. Your mind didn’t even think twice to realise if he was joking or teasing you or testing your reaction to it. You gulped and clenched your sweaty palm.

It was because you were in love with him too.

Someone engulfed you in a back hug and you leaned to the touch. You held his hand in front and closed your eyes. You didn’t know how to react, what to say, what to believe and what to feel. But somewhere you felt happy. Happy because the person you love has confessed his love for you.

He inhaled the scent of your shampoo and whispered into your hair, “please say something. Please talk to me, y/n.”

“what do you want to hear?” you said in a low and slow voice.

“anything. Whatever you want to say but please don’t be silent. I want to hear you.”

You gripped his wrist tighter, “Mingi…”

“hmmm” he closed his eyes, his nose intoxicated with your scent and natural smell and your presence in his hold making his heart beat faster than usual and lips murmuring something into your hairs which you couldn’t even decipher.

“I love you, Mingi.”

The words he wanted to listen and he got to listen. He swiftly turned you around and smiled down at you. You never saw him smiling genuinely at you. Well, maybe he smiled like this before but you didn’t notice before. You didn’t think of it like this, the way you were getting lost into the smile.

“Do you really love me?”

You whispered, “more than you can even think of.”

“I love you, Y/n. you cant even imagine how badly I want to have this moment with you. I didn’t even realise this until the dance that day that I was madly in love with you for last two years. It was all about my love for you.”

He kissed your eyes, your nose, your cheeks, your forehead and stared at your lips. You nodded but still he hesitated. You placed your hands around his neck and pulled him into the most awaited kiss, raising yourself on your toe to match his level. The kiss of initiating a bond, the blooming of a young love. The lips danced with the swift rhythm matching with each other, the way your body moved accordingly and blending with each other’s move to the song. There was a passionate love in the kiss, like the way you both had passion for dance.

Slowly retreating from the kiss, your heels touched the ground. He again softly pecked on your lips, surprising you. He was drunk with your kiss. You smiled at him, he cupped your cheeks in his warm hands, your fingers wrapped around his wrist.

“Mingi…I didn’t realise my love before that dance as well. Maybe the dance and the song has awakened the feelings inside us.”

“we both have a passion for dance and dance only made us realise our inner thoughts. You don’t know but I am so happy right now that I finally get to call you mine.”

“who said you can call me yours?”

“I said and that’s final. also y/n…congratulations.”

“ for what?” you asked in surprise.

“for the win. It was your first step to join your dream company and I promise you, I will make it happen for you.”

“We will make it happen. Together.” You smiled and he nodded and bend down to peck you again.

You slowly removed his hand from your cheeks and took out your phone to click open your playlist.

“what are you doing?”

You didn’t reply and played a song ‘white love’.

The room filled with the intro of the song and swinging your hands, you knelt down in front of him, “will you have a dance with me, my dancing king?”

“of course, my dancing doll.”

“you were supposed to say queen not that stupid doll.”you whined.

“well you are a doll. My dancing doll.” He grabbed your waist and you both laughed with your bodies swaying with the flow of the music.

Afterall it was both of your dream, every day and every night to be in love with each other.

[Thanks for loving the Wooyoung fic...I hope you liked this one.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn [open!]

[wolveswithblackpearls]

Bring Me To Life

Genre: Angst, Power Era, MAMA Era, Open Ending

Summary: All is well when Chanyeol returns from his patrol. The red force is probably still licking its wounds from their last confrontation, right? ...right?

Word count: 4 k

Warnings: major character death, revival / coming back from the dead, coming back wrong

A/N: Happy Holidays @exo-xexo! I (admin j aka @breeze-of-sunlight) am your secret santa~

I wish for you to be able to end this year peacefully and find some rest in the coming weeks. Hopefully you'll enjoy this little fic - let me know what you thought of it if you want!

For all those unfamiliar, this fic was posted as a part of the @exols-silver-christmas event 2024. Please check out the gifts from this and the past years if you want to see some beautiful creations by all kinds of EXO-Ls. Happy holidays to you too, santa admin. As usual, thank you so much for hosting!

May you find time for yourself in these last days of the year, dear reader.

"Chanyeol, duck!", is the last thing Chanyeol hears before something hits his shoulder and promptly dissolves into goo all over his neck and back. 

And it had been such a good day until now.

He can hear Kai and Sehun cackling behind him as he tries to shake off the worst of it and pull the more resistant parts of the novaberry from the hair on his nape. "Real mature guys, incredibly funny! You're off duty for five seconds and immediately behave like little shi-"

"Sorry, I tried to warn you, but I guess my timing was off.", Suho tries to placate as he makes his way to Chanyeol opposite of where the still snickering duo stands.

"Apology accepted, but only if you send these two right back on patrol again."

Suho huffs a laugh at that and brushes off a piece of the berry Chanyeol had missed. However, a frown replaces his easy grin and he turns to address the others. "Could you come over here, please? I need to ask you all something without yelling my lungs out".

"Sure", Kai hollers back and reaches out to grab Sehun's neck. The later only has a short second to let out an undignified squawk before they get teleported across the field and materialize next to Suho. 

"Ugh, I hate it when you do that! Could at least warn me beforehand?"

"I could."

"But? You won't?"

"Boys,", interrupts Suho, long suffering of his brother's antics, "could we please focus for one second?"

"One.", echo Kai and Sehun at once but stay silent afterwards. Chanyeol can smell Suho’s hair greying.

"Have any of you noticed anything different or suspicious on you patrols today?", Suho makes a point of staring each man in front of him down until they shake their heads one after the other. "Has anyone heard back from Baekhyun yet?"

Chanyeol feels his face drop. "No, why? Is something wrong? What's going on?"

Sighing heavily, Suho lowers his head and pinches the bridge of his nose. "There might be." When he raises his head back up, he admits " Baekhyun is not yet back from his mission. I talked to the others too, but no one has heard from him since he left this morning. And we can’t reach him via transmitter right now. Quite frankly, I'm worried."

And you're definitely not alone with that. Chanyeol adds mentally. Baekhyun has never been their most serious member. On the contrary, nothing seems to bring him more joy than to aggravate the others. But not coming home from a standard patrol? Not even trying to contact them about any anomalies altering his usual routes? That's simply not a line even he would cross for the sake of a prank. He must just have forgotten.

"Kai,", Suho pulls Chanyeol back from his thoughts, "I want you to teleport to his usual checkpoints. See if you can figure out whether he's been there today."

Kai nods solemnly, the mischief from a few moments ago long forgotten.

"I don't want you to face this alone and walk into a potential trap. Take Kyungsoo with you."

"Wait, hold up!", Chanyeol interrupts, "What do you mean 'Take Kyungsoo with you'? I'm literally right here?"

“Chanyeol, do not take this personally, but Kyungsoo tends to be a lot more levelheaded than you are in these situations”, Suho tries to calm him down. And Chanyeol can see the reasoning in that, but-

"And we literally need you right here, idiot.", Sehun raises his brow at him. "We're already down a guardian who can cast a shield of light over the tree of life. If this happens to be a trap, we don't need our actual firewall gone too."

Feeling his cheeks heat from being scolded by his younger brother, Chanyeol turns away from the group. A petty fine barely had the time to leave his lips when their transmitters light up simultaneously.

"Guys,", Xiumin’s grim voice filters through the devices, "we found him."

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

There have been few days Chen has felt so much negativity in their hallowed halls. Or rather, beneath the tree of life. For good reason. While the tree is not all powerful, it at least grants its guardians one thing: quasi-immortality. In the long time they've been guardians, they have never had one of them dying.

That doesn't change the fact that Baekhyun’s cold body lies before them anyway. Looking all the more fragile between the massive roots.

But it simply must be him, from his long fingers to the small freckle over his lip, Chen is certain about it. This is Baekhyun. Xiumin could have dumped an entire frozen ocean's worth of ice over Chen's head and he still couldn't have been more frozen in pace.

Chanyeol, as expected, is not quite as silent about the matter.

"Lay, I know your power is health stuff and all, but how in the world is this supposed to work? He's not missing a finger; he's missing a heartbeat."

"'Health stuff and all'? Watch your tongue, Chanyeol. I know this isn't easy for you, but damn, neither is it for us!", Xiumin hisses back, feline eyes narrowed in agitation.

Lay, with his usual calm collectiveness when faced with a patient to attend, pulls Baekhyun's head into his lap and settles a hand over his brow. "Could you all please stop snapping at each other? This is going to be dancing on the edge of the possible already. If you keep distracting me, it's certainly going to go south."

"Besides,", he raises his head to stare into Chanyeol's eyes calmly, "it's not like we have any different options, do we?"

Chanyeol tsks in lieu of an answer but otherwise drops his arguments and resumes pacing. Chen tries to reach out to offer him tactile comfort but his hand gets pushed away. No one but Baekhyun himself could calm him down, it seems. Chen refocuses on the situation at hand instead. 

With bated breath the guardians watch as Lay closes his eyes and tries what they've thought was impossible up until now. While Chanyeol is right and their powers have their limits, performing this act of revival right below the tree of life is the best chance they're going to get. If Lay manages to tab into the trees power source, then surely, surely...

Lay shifts his hands, running the tips of his fingers down Baekhyun's head from scalp to chin and then settling next to his temples. The rest of them watches, watches and stares as Lay's hands start glowing. And they glow. They glow and glow and glow and begin shaking slightly after minutes (or hours? Who can say.) pass by. Baekhyun's chest still isn't moving. 

Inhaling deeply, Lay tilts his head back in a way easily recognizable to the rest of them. He's trying to tap into the tree's power. Usually, the tree would start winding roots or branches around whoever asked for aid - the energy is easier to transfer that way. Right now, though? The tree does nothing of the like. The branches stop swaying in the gentle breeze, the leaves becoming completely silent. Adding to the eerie atmosphere that has befallen them.

The tension under the tree could be cut with a knife, even Chanyeol has stopped pacing and worriedly glances back and forth between Baekhyun and the tree. Until Lay finally drops his hands, covered in sweat from head to toe, and breathes heavily as though he held his breath the entire time. While he leans down, he whispers something against Baekhyun's face - too quiet for Chen's ears to catch. Lay presses their foreheads together and then slowly wiggles himself out from beneath the body.

Before Chen can react, he hears a gasp next to him and Chanyeol shoots off to kneel down in front of Baekhyun. "No, no way! Baekhyun, can you hear me?" 

In full disbelief Chen also storms forward to sink down next to Baekhyun. He faintly notices how Suho grabs Lay by the shoulders to support their healer after was undoubtedly the most complicated use of his powers to this day.

Baekhyun in the meanwhile has not only opened his eyes but is also currently wiping the tears from Chanyeol's face. "What's going on? Why are you crying Yeollie?"

Which of course only results in Chanyeol sobbing harder.

Chen catches one of Baekyhun's hands between his own. "Baekhyun,", Chen begins when he caught the other's attention, "you've been dead for at least the last hour."

Baekhyun's face falls slowly, as if he had to remember how to do it first.

"What?"

"Don't you... don't you remember anything at all? Xiumin said he found you on his patrol, but-", Chen stammers, squeezing the hand harder as Baekhyun beings staring off into the distance.

"But you had no pulse", Xiumin finishes for him, leaning over his younger brothers’ backs. "Baekhyun, are you sure you can't remember anything else?"

"How about you let him come back to himself first?", Chanyeol's head snaps around and he glares alternatingly at his two members. At least until Baekhyun tries to sit up and lets out a long gasp of agony.

"Where... are we exactly?"

Chen makes a bewildered eye contact with Chanyeol as they try to stabilize Baekhyun between them, "Baek, we're under the tree of life. You're home".

"Huh", Baekhyun breathes and cranes his neck around slowly. His eyes dance up the bark of the tree up into its crown. Even slower, Baekhyun tries to lift one arm and reach out to one of the branches dangling above him.

The branch, however, flees his grasp as if repulsed by him. Chanyeol catches it with a still furrowed brow and brings it close to Baekhyun, who in turn promptly touches it. As if burned the branch jerks back and turns black where Baekhyun has laid his hand. The discoloration spreads along the branch, twitching as though it's in pain. The leaves start rustling in convulsion. Chen has never seen the tree act like that, much less after touching one of them.

Xiumin, quick as always, reacts first and summons a blade of ice to cut off the branch above the growing discoloration. The still twitching appendage falls with a heavy thud. In a radius around it the roots begin twitching and rearranging themselves, not wanting to come in contact at all.

With an open mouth Chen tears his gaze away and studies Baekhyun instead. It's as though the man's face has turned to stone, nothing but apathy to be read there. "Interesting."

And suddenly, as if the past hours hadn't happened, Baekhyun smoothly rolls to his feet and dusts off his pants with an air of disinterest.

"Woah there, take it slow Baek! You really shouldn't strain yourself", Chanyeol rises next to him, although with far less grace and holds out his hands as though scared the other will collapse at any second.

"Oh, don't worry,", Baekhyun's gaze fixes on Chanyeol, "Lay did a pretty sound job there."

Something is off about his smile, but Chen can't pin it down. Has this quiet intensity behind his eyes been there a minute ago? Why does he look at them like a predator stalks his prey?

A soft wheeze pulls Chen's attention to Lay instead. The healer has braced himself on hands and knees, one hand lifting to cover his heart. Although he had managed to slow down his breathing before, it now seems to get worse again. Suho has started quietly murmuring to him again, gently stroking his back to calm him down. Kyungsoo lets himself down next to him, naturally gifted at grounding people and offers him a shoulder to lean on.

Baekhyun, apparently, has also noticed their struggling healer and coos mockingly. "Aw, poor one. Did you overexert yourself trying to save your friend, huh? You tree huggers are even more pitiful than initially estimated."

And this? This is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Despite all his teasing and shenanigans, Baekhyun would never let one of them suffer without offering help - let alone make fun of anyone in need. So. What if Lay hadn't brought back their Baekhyun at all? What if he summoned something entirely else into their friend's body.

"You're not really Baekhyun, are you?", Chen asks in a low voice. He subtly shifts into a more battle-ready pose and summons a small string of lightning to dance around his fingers. The quiet flickering of the electricity suddenly grows a lot louder as Chen feels a wave of power and relief wash through him. It's the most encouraging signal the tree has sent him all day. 

"Who are you?"

Baekhyun's eyes are widening in pure joy at the open challenge, his smile turning even more manic. "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

Before any of them can react, Baekhyun performs a spinning move and summons an orb of unforgivingly blinding light. Chen flinches and covers his eyes, afraid of being blinded even though he was only exposed for a split second. From Chanyeol's pained scream he concludes the others aren't faring any better.

He wills his lightning back down again, knowing far too well how foolish it is to shoot at a target he can't sense in any way.

Kyungsoo, however, does not seem to have such reservations. A rumble goes through the ground as he summons an earthquake. Additional to not being able to see, now Chen can't hold his balance either. While sinking to the ground as carefully as he can manage, he at least hopes Kyungsoo manages to shake Baekhyun off his feet as well.

Instead, he feels the telltale rustle in the air that comes with Kai's teleporting and the light vanishes. Soon after, the world stops shaking and Chen warily blinks open his eyes. But Baekhyun is nowhere in sight. And although Kai is still here, his limbs are entangled with Sehun, the two of them must have fallen into one another when the earthquake caught them all by surprise.

"What? Where is he?", Chanyeol asks while heaving himself off the ground, turning in one direction after the other. Chen would comment on him looking like a helicopter during takeoff if the situation wasn't so dire. “He can't have gotten far in so little time!”

"Guys.", Suho gasps an interjection, "Our tree!"

And sure enough, there is a dark, rotting hole in the tree’s bark. Oozing a dark liquid as if it's bleeding, spreading from where Baekhyun must have made contact. The tree’s branches have drooped as though all life was sucked from them; its roots aren't so much as twitching although some of them are currently squished between two slates of earth in a way that must hurt.

A forlorn no is hushed from Lay's lips. He struggles to push himself upright, but instead just falls back against Kyungsoo's chest. "What have we done?"

"He's gone", Xiumin states grimly. Gaze sweeping over the meadow and through the forest surrounding them. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If it wasn't for the last hour, one might even say it was peaceful.

Chen picks the pebbles that bore into his skin during the earthquake out of the palms of his hand. "We have to find him immediately. Maybe if we can get that possession or whatever that was out of him, it'll teach us how to reverse the damage."

Kai, who has by now managed to detangle himself from Sehun and pulled the latter to his feet, fetches a holomap from one of his endless pockets and boots it up. With the three-dimensional star map projected in front of him, he walks up to Xiumin. "Show me where you first saw him. Maybe I'll be able to track from where he came - and see if he passes by there again."

Xiumin begins gesturing around the map, trying to point out certain coordinates as precisely and quickly as he can manage. Meanwhile, Chen sees how Sehun rids himself of most things in his pockets and even begins taking off his shoes. Clearly preparing to take flight through the woods for long hours. Searching where the rest of them can't follow him with their larger space shuttles. At least not efficiently.

Chen feels the telltale rustle of teleportation behind his back. The sensation makes him pause for a second. Kai couldn't have teleported earlier, except if he teleported himself into Sehun. Which seems unlikely at best. Yet, Chen is sure he felt the same sensation right now as he did before Baekhyun disappeared. You get familiar with the supernatural surrounding you when you live together, after all.

"Now that we're talking about it, how did Xiumin manage to find Baekhyun? Their routes are nowhere near each other."

Xiumin swivels around: "Are you trying to say this is my fault? That I'm a traitor - or possessed by that whatever-it-is as well?".

"Calm down, Minnie, no one here believes you're an imposter", Suho placates, trying to keep them united even when his own nerves must be lying raw. "What's your point, Dae?"

"I'm just saying, what did Baekhyun even do out there? If he went that far off his actual checkpoints, he must've sought out Xiumin specifically. Do you maybe think that he saw the thing coming and tried to warn you?"

"And when he realized he couldn't he sacrificed himself instead", Suho furrows his brow.

"Just a thought."

"Or,", Sehun pipes up, "did any of you stop and think about whether or not we have the real Baekhyun in general?"

Chen is certain he can hear the grass grow over the silence that descends above them.

"Sehun, what the-?"

"No, hear me out.", Sehun intercepts, "We found a body, that miraculously looked like Baekhyun somewhere he shouldn't have been in the first place. When Lay breathed life back into him, the tree of life did not help at all. Don't you think it would be a little keener to help one of its protectors get back on his feet? The twig that thing touched literally wilted at first touch, there's an enormous hole in the tree - that keeps on growing, by the way."

"And we have no actual means to find out how Baekhyun got where he ended up being", Suho adds on. "Fuck, Sehun, you might be right. This basically reeks of red force, doesn’t it?"

"Did we just bring a red force clone of one of us to life?", Chen asks breathlessly.

"Did said clone manage to escape so that he can now spread the knowledge he gained to his master?", Xiumin comments wryly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"We're screwed", Chanyeol exhales as he drags his hands down his face slowly. "If the red force knows where the tree of life stands, how long do we have until it starts attacking?"

"And how long", Lay pipes up from where he lays in Kyungsoo's arms, "until we can't trust each other anymore because we can't tell us apart from any clones."

And truth be told, Chen hadn't even considered that. "You think there are more of them? But how? There is no other Lay, no- no, X-Lay, right? How is that X-Baekhyun supposed to bring them to life?"

"No, I don't think X-Baekhyun can do that. But think of it, if the tree can create guardians, it's not too far off to assume the red force can too. And if it's goal with X-Baekhyun was to simply scout the area and find the tree, there's no reason to send all of its subjects and risk potential fallouts."

"And it comes with the added benefit of taking out some of us as well," Kyungsoo murmurs, stroking a comforting hand up and down Lay’s arm.

"I'm not down, I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Just don't strain yourself. We still need you."

Suho starts massaging his temples. "That would also explain his quick getaway. If there already is a Kai clone, we can stop wondering how he pulled that off."

"So, what now?", Xiumin stares down the hole in the tree darkly. "The force weakened the tree so now it can come back with the big guns and completely claim it? And all we can do is set up wards and hope for the best?"

Chen doesn’t have it in him to respond in any way. He hasn’t felt this foolish and helpless in forever.

"We might not be completely defenseless", Kyungsoo answers quietly instead. "There's something I've read a… while ago. But it's experimental and I might not remember all the details."

Suho sighs heavily. "I can't say I'm thrilled at the thought of more experiments today."

"It's not like we have a lot of other options, though", Kyungsoo counters. Suho nods in agreement and waves his hand to encourage Kyungsoo to keep talking.

"Simply put, we would essentially split the tree in two. Hide each half in a pocket dimension. Each a mirror world of the other. The same skies over different grounds. The same grounds under different skies. That way the red force can't find it based on where it is now.  Over time the tree could grow and heal itself. When it's strong enough, we'll reunite it again. Until then we have to find Baekhyun, the real Baekhyun. And we best get rid of any clones or other units of the red force as quickly as we can. I'd rather not take any chances here."

Sehun raises a brow in disbelief: "Won't we just make ourselves vulnerable if we split up? What if they find one half of the tree, charge in there with full force and completely destroy that half of the tree? This just sounds like we're presenting the tree on a silver platter."

Kyungsoo heaves a heavy sigh, as if the worst still lies ahead of him. "There's another thing. Due to the split of our current dimension, we will create some problems with space-time. Which means we're most likely not going to be able to get in touch the conventional way. I'm not sure if we'll even be able to contact each other at all. But that also means the force will get separated. It won't be able to reconnect to its other units and neither can it switch dimensions at will. Not unless we can too. The only other way for it to do that is to wait out until the two dimensions have aligned and we merge the tree once again."

Chen isn't sure how many more hits he'll be able to take today. He locks eyes with Chanyeol, who looks back at him with similarly forlorn expression. When he lets his gaze drag over the different faces of his friends, his family, he sees the same silent emotions. In the way Sehun picks anxiously at his fingernails, in the way Suho is again pinching the bridge of his nose, in the way Lay stares up at the trees crown with glassy eyes. In the tear he can feel rolling down his own cheek. 

"This is goodbye then?"

"Yes", answers Kyungsoo, voice barely above a whisper. "But only for a while."

Suho turns away from the group, hands already on his transmitter. "I'll page Kai. We should meet at the ritual grounds. You guys should get a headstart, we won't be far behind."

Chanyeol and Sehun relieve Kyungsoo of his Lay-safekeeping-duties, their taller frames better equipped for carrying around a person. Lay keeps on protesting vehemently that he can walk on his own, but his complaints fall on deaf ears. Neither of them is willing to let go of their friend in what could be the last time for millennia.

Suddenly Chen's field of vision is obscured by a face. Xiumin's worried face. "It will be okay", he promises quietly. "We'll be back together in no time, you'll see. And the tree will have blossomed brighter than ever! Won't that be nice?"

"Yeah, sure it will", Chen snivels softly and tries to muster up a smile for Xiumin's sake. He clearly isn't very successful judging how the grief grows stronger on Xiumin's face as well.

"Just never lose yourself, okay?", Xiumin's finger rise to gently swipe away the tears Chen hadn't noticed rolling down his face in streams now. 

"Just be brave. A new world shall open up."

A/N: And that's a wrap! I took some liberties with the whole MAMA intro, but I hope you guys like it anyway :] Please consider leaving me a comment or a reblog, that would make my day! And if anyone's in the mood for it, here's the link to the EXO-K MAMA mv. Take care, everyone!

-admin j

[pjsk-headcanons]

*deep breath pt 3*

VIIIIIIIVIIIIIDDDDD BADDDDD SQUAAAAADDDD BABEYYYYYY

or should i say...

vbs: emu (unit leader), haruka, honami, minori

vbs -> PASSION P♤NIC (my brain is out of juice have you noticed)

-emu and haruka both attended RAD WEEKEND, it is still the end goal lol

-haruka quitted ASRUN earlier and thrn picked up singing after RAD WEEKEND. rad weekend was a lot later this time around i guess nagi you have to wait to die/j

-thought this would be funny that the event pp♤ had equivalent to Light Up the Fire would be haruka finding out about nagi with an (mixed event key story other than the anni ones hear me out)

-emu finds honami (i dont know how, maybe just a school-related thing happened) they become the P♤NIC part of the group name. honami is very cautious at first (because iykyk x2) but slowly gets into it

-haruka finds minori still trying to spread hope through being an idol (65+ attempts rejected this time) is impressed, they become PASSION.

-their sekai is called city SEKAI. (shoot btw s•s is still stage sekai i forgot to add that last time)

TRUST RANKS

emu - honami -> "P♤NIC!", "faith in you", "to keep that smile warm" (cried i didnt think id be this attached to this group this is the one i liked the least)

haruka - minori -> "PASSION!", "my idol...a street artist?!" (minori originally only join bc "i cant miss a chance to work with THE HARUKA KIRITANI!! not knowing shes gonna be a street artist), "understanding that hope" (minori o7 our true goat)

minori - emu -> "pure smiles☆~", "always cheering up!", "more than surpassing" (again- up to interpretation hehe)

honami - haruka -> "getting back into it", (they both are recovering from...something iykyk yahaha) "calmer smiles☆~", "so that i can be myself again"

minori - honami -> "dog walk pals!", "brought in by friends", "with hope, with fear" (hahhdhdjshahdhsjhd *sobs*)

haruka - emu -> "bright hair...!", "that night", "setting a spark for that tomorrow" (emu and haruka dream of being able to make songs that makr people hope for the "next day" - kind of equivalent to vbs want to "take over the world" for nagi because she couldnt? parallels sigh)

asking mod for some things:

1. should i make group songs (like a list of some sorts) after im done with loreposting? or focus on sekais? ill get to both eventually but i want to see what you mod and maybe others think

2. forgot to mention that i was not the one who spun the wheel. these groups were made as an april fools for a unit swap fic called reCYCLE. hehe

anyways. wxs next, eight characters left! any guesses for next time?

🌐 anon

.

[gabriel-xander]

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

44: SANS, YOU IGNORANT SLUT.

A/N: Lowkey regret NOT making this a Grillby x Reader x Sans fic I love that hot ass motherfucker so bad, but I fear it’s too late for that 😔 The story I have planned (to the very end, might I add) won’t work for it at all but MANNNN Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

♪────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

It’s the next day, and you’re so fucking excited! Toriel knows you’re showing up soon, as you had called her yesterday afternoon.

You told her that Sans would like to meet her as well, and… Well, your goat mother had something a little interesting to say.

“I am excited to meet him! You’ve only had kind things to say about him,” Toriel’s tone turned teasing and a bit… knowing? “Only good things to say about him. I think I will need to have that talk with him, hm?”

You’re not sure how to feel about that. Is she supportive or secretly resentful? Does she know, or is she suspecting and is testing you?

Your relationship with your actual mother isn’t the greatest, and you never involved her with your love life.

You learned not to include her when Kōrenki’s condition was only worsening. And when your days slowly turned into devotion to taking care of him before he passed, your mother had nothing nice to say about anything.

She made you feel like Kōrenki’s passing was something you had to make up for, especially to his family. You don’t know why she had suddenly changed like that. No matter how much you tried explaining it, she couldn’t understand. Or maybe she refused to.

Anyway, after that, you made sure to never include your mom (and by extension, your poor dad) in your love life. And no matter what bad blood you have with your mom, Toriel could never replace her or be a better version of her.

Toriel is not a replacement, but rather an addition. You see her as your mother as well, and because of that, your vice extends to her.

Sans might’ve been nervous at the thought of telling her of your relationship for one reason. But you’re hesitant about telling her because of your own past experience.

Her meddling, even though she’s just joking, you hate it. You almost snapped at her on the phone but held back by literally biting your tongue. It’s not her fault you have issues, so it’s not fair to pass it on to her.

…UHGHHH!

That’s not important! You’re not even going to tell her anyway for Sans’ sake! You shouldn’t think about this, you’re so excited to see her, you don’t want to sour that with unnecessary thoughts!

You accidentally slam the refrigerator door close, wincing at the sound.

You just finished preparing some things for the brothers before you leave. You’re worried they’re going to starve and perish with you gone, so you’ve made a few meal preps that can last them 3-4 days. Papyrus can eat his own cooking and Sans can always eat Grillby’s but you still worry for them.

You have your things packed and ready, so you’re just waiting for Sans’ to get up when he’s ready. You don’t think he’s going to oversleep since he knows how excited you are.

He might be a lazy bum, but when Sans cares about someone or something, he cares and it shows.

Papyrus should still be asleep as well, his cute keychain is still on the table. It has a MTT charm attached to it, it’s actually really nice. You want one yourself, but would that be too suspicious? No, right? You’ve seen MTT shows with Papyrus before, you should ask him about it when you get back.

Oh, you need to refill the cat's food and water bowls that are in the kitchen. Childe and Morax are good about sharing the bowls, but you know you need to buy them separate ones eventually. They also don’t have an indoor litter box since they know how to go outside.

It’s really funny that dogs and cats still need to use the bathroom but monsters don’t. As far as you know, cat and dog food should be made of magic, too. Maybe it’s different for proper animals rather than monsters that present as animals.

You should write that down in your notebook.

After refilling their bowls, you absentmindedly wipe your hands on your jeans. You're changing out of them before you leave, it's fine if they get a little dirty.

Hearing the click of a door opening and closing, you walk to the living room to be nosy. Sans is walking down the stairs in his white shirt and basketball shorts. With him are the two cats, playing around his feet. Sans almost trips down the stairs once or twice because of that.

Childe and Morax sleep in your shared room since they took a liking to you (and Sans, but mostly you). They woke up when you woke this morning, but surprisingly they stayed and curled up with Sans.

Maybe it’s a man thing to be in denial.

“Good morning, baby boy,” You smile, walking towards him, “You don’t have to be up yet. I was ready for you to get up in another hour or two.”

Your bone boy shrugs his shoulders, “i couldn’t go back to sleep with you gone-”

Aww!

“-‘cause childe and morax only like sleeping with you around. they woke me up ‘cause they were playing a lot, and now i can’t sleep.”

Oh.

You smack your lips and walk away. The cats follow behind you, meowing and rubbing against your legs.

Whatever, you want a little breakfast before you shower.

Sans snorts and follows after you as well, “you got your stuff ready, right?”

“Yep, all packed by the couch,” You open up the food museum and look inside, “So, what are you gonna do while I’m gone?”

“you know i hate workin’, but i might as well start working on making the blueprints for the–what did you call them? the sci-fi tubes?” Sans stands idle in the living room, watching you, “i still gotta work on doing somethin’ about the cameras around the area, but maybe another day.”

You know that moment when you check the refrigerator for something to snack on, but nothing catches your eye? So you keep checking every 10 minutes thinking something new will spawn knowing damn well that’s not gonna happen? That was you this entire morning. This is actually your fifth time checking the damn refrigerator.

You head over to Sans, bro is looking like a scrumptious bag of bones early in the morning. He watches you intently while you fix his shirt.

“Remember to take breaks, and don’t forget to feed the babies. Well, they’ll make sure to remind you themselves if you forget,” You smooth out the wrinkles on his shoulders, keeping your hands there, “Hang out with them, too. I think Paps is gonna go back training with Undyne today.”

“ughhh,” Sans groans, hanging his head, “they’re gonna mess up my workshop.”

“You can leave them in the house, then. Just remember to come back to take them out for potty breaks.”

Sans leans closer, eye-lights glancing down at your lips with intention. You close your eyes and you feel his teeth against your lips.

“yeah, yeah,” Sans mumbles lazily against your lips, his fingers slipping into the loops of your pants. “less talking, more-”

“I KNEW IT!! I KNEW IT–I KNEW IT–I KNEW IT!!!”

Sans jerks away with a red, embarrassed expression. Papyrus is leaning over the rails on the second floor, pointing accusingly at you and his brother.

His eye-sockets are wide and very anime. His smile is wide and he’s practically vibrating in place.

You smile in amusement, putting your hands on your hips while Papyrus jumps down the railing like the fucking Giga Chad he is. Sans moves away from you, hiding his red face in his hands. Having skeletal hands does nothing to hide his face though.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS RATHER SUSPICIOUS YOU AND MY BROTHER DECIDED TO SHARE THE ROOM SUDDENLY, AND WITHOUT ADDING A SECOND BED! NOT ONLY THAT, BUT DON’T THINK I HAVEN’T NOTICED HOW AFFECTIONATE YOU’VE BEEN WITH EACH OTHER!” Papyrus’ grin turns mischievous, “SANS’ BEEN LOOKING AT YOU DIFFERENTLY FOR A WHILE NOW. YOU’VE BEEN SPENDING ALMOST ALL OF YOUR TIME TOGETHER.”

You laugh at Sans’ expense, “We didn’t mean to hide it from you, Paps. I guess I just legit forgot to bring it up.”

His eyes sparkle… with magic, you presume, “SO, THEN IT’S TRUE?! YOU AND MY BROT–YOU AND SANS ARE TOGETHER?”

You nod, “Yeah, we are!”

Poor, poor Sans. You don’t know why he’s so embarrassed. Perhaps he prefers having his love life private in general, even from Papyrus.

Or probably because he got caught trying to get freaky with you in the living room.

“I KNEW IT!!” Papyrus cheers, jumping up and down while pumping his fists in the air, “THE TENSION AND THE VIBES WERE TOO STRONG FOR IT TO BE CASUAL!”

You give Sans a knowing look, “Told you that you weren’t subtle.”

He weakly glares at you.

“Well, you can talk to Sans about it, but I–” You pat San’s shoulder, “–gotta go shower before we leave for Toriel’s.”

Sans deadpans, “bruh.”

Cue evil laughter.

“OH, ALRIGHT! HAVE A NICE SHOWER!”

“Pfft, thanks.”

You kiss Sans on the cheek (much to his embarrassment) before heading towards the stairs. You hear Papyrus start snickering and Sans making some sort of annoyed grunt, like he’s trying to tell his brother to shut up.

Childe and Morax follow you, but when you open the shower room door, they run away.

Shame, they’re still traumatized from their flea shower. You’re still traumatized, too. You’re lucky Sans had food ready for you to heal up from that.

As soon as you close the shower room behind yourself, Papyrus leans down to taunt his brother.

“SO. YOU AND [Y/N], HUH?” The taller skeleton straightens up and wipes a fake tear, “SIGH, THEY GROW UP SO FAST.”

Nuh, God.

“paps, please…” Sans wants to pinch the bridge of his nose, but alas, he does not have one.

“SANS, I BELIEVE THAT WE NEED TO HAVE ONE OF OUR HEART-TO-HEARTS. OR RATHER, A SOUL-TO-SOUL,” Papyrus clasps a hand on Sans’ head, “YOU SEE, WHEN TWO MONSTERS LOVE EACH OTHER VERY MUCH-”

“-okay, paps! we are not talking about this!” Sans scrunches his nose, “wait a minute, [y/n] isn’t even a monster.”

“YOU ARE SO RIGHT, SANS. WHEN A HUMAN LADY AND A MONSTER LO-”

“-papyrus, seriously.”

“THERE IS NO NEED TO BE SO EMBARRASSED, SANS. IT’S ABOUT TIME WE TALKED ABOUT THIS, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE…” Papyrus narrows his eye-sockets, trying to think of the right words, “CANOODLING WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND.”

Sans wants to cry. He hunches over and rubs his face, trying to will away the magic that’s heating up his skull.

“I KNOW THIS IS NEW, SCARY TERRITORY FOR YOU. YOU’VE NEVER SHOWN ANY INTEREST IN THE MONSTERS BEFORE, I ALWAYS FIGURED YOU MUST'VE BEEN EMOTIONALLY AND/OR SEXUALLY REPRESSED.”

“oh, my god. papyrus.”

“LUCKILY, I AM THE BEST WHEN IT COMES TO DATING. I HAVE STUDIED THE SCIENCE AND THEORIES OF THE JOINING OF TWO LOVERS, UNLIKE YOURSELF. BUT NOT TO WORRY, BROTHER. AS YOU KNOW, I AM THE MASTER OF ROMANCE, AND WILL OFFER YOU ALL OF MY ADVICE, MY TIPS AND TRICKS–ALL OF THAT AND MORE TO MAXIMIZE YOUR DATING POTENTIAL!”

“papyrus, please. shut up…”

Sans moves to leave to his room, but Papyrus stops him in his path. He lifts his shorter brother in the air, carrying him to the living room and sets him on the couch.

Sans sinks into the cushions, praying the sofa will consume him.

“AS YOUR LOVING AND RESPONSIBLE BROTHER, IT IS MY JOB TO INFORM YOU ON TOPICS THAT YOU MIGHT NOT BE EDUCATED IN. SO, ALLOW ME TO BEGIN…” Papyrus clears his throat and poses, “THE TALK™.”

“papyrus… don’t do this to me, man.”

Papyrus does not listen of course, because not only is this the funniest moment to tease the hell out of Sans, but also because Sans might actually need this help.

Sans has never shown an interest in anyone before, so Papyrus wants to help him. You are so good for Sans, Papyrus really wants this to work between you two, never mind that you’re human and Sans is not.

“WHEN PEOPLE LOVE EACH OTHER VERY MUCH AND HAVE WANTS TO TAKE IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL-”

Oh, God no. A love talk, Sans could probably survive that. But a sex talk too??

“-THEY WILL BEGIN AN INTIMACY THAT CAN BE EXPLORED WITH TOUCH. THOUGH, THAT MAKES ME CURIOUS. HOW WOULD THAT HAPPEN BETWEEN A SKELETON MONSTER, AND A HUMAN?”

Sans could feel his soul imploding and his face catching on fire. No, his entire head is on fire! He’s going to combust!!

“WELL, ANYWHO. WHILE PROCREATION IS USUALLY THE MAIN PURPOSE OF COITUS-”

NOO-HOO-HOOOO!! WHY MUST SANS BE THE ONE TO SUFFER THROUGH THIS?!?!

“-IT IS NOT SO UNCOMMON FOR MOST COUPLES TO ONLY COPULATE OUT OF PASSION, DESIRE, AND LOVE. AS FOR YOUR RELATIONSHIP, SANS, IT’S BEST NOT TO FEEL PRESSURE OR TO PRESSURE FOR COITUS IN A RELATIONSHIP.”

This must be Sans’ personal hell. Did he die without knowing and got sent to monster hell? That’s the only explanation for this.

This is it.

It’s so joever.

“NOW, LET’S GO OVER THE DO’S AND DON'TS OF COITUS.”

“noooo…”

────

When you get out of the shower, you’re clean and dressed in that winter dress you haven’t worn since your first day arriving in Snowdin. Your hair has grown a bit, it’s been months of being in the Underground, after all.

Ah, you’re also a little paler than before. It’s not really noticeable, but it is to you. It makes sense, you haven’t had sunlight in a while.

…You need to find a supplement of Vitamin D. You made your choice to stay in the Underground indefinitely, but this cannot be healthy for you. You’re not sure what kind of scientist Alphys is, but you know for sure Sans isn’t the kind of nerd you need either. Your encounter with Alphys might be inevitable after all.

Childe and Morax were waiting outside the shower room door, looking up at you with them big ol’ eyes. You coo at them and pet them, listening in to the conversation happening down stairs.

“-TO TAKE CARE OF HER. DON’T LET POST-COITUS CLARITY STOP YOU FROM PUTTING HER NEEDS FIRST.”

What the actual fuck are they talking about?

“hurhhhgg…”

Sans sounds close to death!

You walk down the stairs slowly, listening in because it’s low-key interesting.

“YOU SHOULD REALLY TALK TO HER ABOUT IT FIRST BEFORE YOU GET INTIMATE, THOUGH. TO BE TRUTHFUL, I DO NOT THINK EITHER OF YOU ARE READY FOR CHILDREN.”

OKAY, you need to intervene now.

“I think it’s way too soon to talk about things like that,” You interject with a laugh, “Like, way too soon.”

Sans, your sweet, sweet Sans, is nearly half-way into the couch, his blush is strong but he’s mortified more than anything. With you coming back, he perks up with hope.

Ah, such fragile hope that you will save him.

You suppose you should.

“I’m glad you’re helping him out, Papyrus. But Sans and I gotta get going now,” You soften your smile, “I’m gonna miss you.”

Papyrus allows this distraction, turning his back to Sans to face you. The moment he does, Sans shortcuts right out of there.

“MUST YOU LEAVE SO SOON? WH–YOU JUST GOT BACK…” Papyrus looks down, fidgeting with his gloved hands.

“Oh, I know, baby, I know. Just another week, and I’ll be back before you know it,” You gesture for him to get closer, “I’m counting on you to take care of a few things while I’m gone.”

He widens his eye sockets, leaning close, “WH–YOU’RE COUNTING ON ME? FOR WHAT?”

“Sans is gonna get lonely again with me gone, and he might fill that emptiness with busying himself. You gotta make sure he doesn’t overwork himself. Check in on him, even if he doesn’t let you.”

Papyrus looks up stairs, already knowing Sans left the couch. He makes a contemplative noise, considering your words carefully.

“YOU ARE RIGHT ABOUT THAT. FOR THE LONGEST TIME, IT HAS ONLY BEEN SANS AND I. WE’VE ONLY RELIED ON EACH OTHER, LEANED ON EACH OTHER, SUPPORTED EACH OTHER. BUT NOW WE HAVE YOU, AND YOU’VE DONE ALL OF THAT FOR BOTH OF US,” Papyrus smiles at you, “YOU’RE ALREADY SO IMPORTANT TO BOTH OF OUR LIVES. SANS WILL NOT BE THE ONLY ONE WHO WILL FEEL LONELY WITH YOU GONE.”

Bro… What…

You’re tearing up, Papyrus becoming blurry in your vision. Your heart squeezes tightly in your chest. The tall skeleton pats you on the head, treating you gently because he knows.

You don’t love Sans more than Papyrus, and you don’t love Papyrus more than Sans. Sans is not more important to you than Papyrus, and Papyrus is not more important to you than Sans.

You showed more concern for Sans not because you care more about him, but because… You didn’t think Papyrus cared about you as much as Sans did.

What a fool you were to think that way, even for just a minute.

“OH, [Y/N],” Papyrus leans over to hug you, patting your back, “PLEASE DON’T UNDERESTIMATE YOUR PLACE IN OUR LIVES–IN MY LIFE. I WILL MISS YOU DEARLY. I’VE BEEN MISSING YOU DEARLY SINCE YOU LEFT WITH SANS.”

You whimper pathetically, hugging him back, “Papyrus…!”

Your heart soars with love and appreciation. You love Sans and Papyrus so dearly, so so much. Already, you would consider them your family. You love them unconditionally, yet ironically, you never expect that love to be given to you in return.

The affection you get from Sans is one thing, but the affection Papyrus is giving you now is something else.

It’s so much and it’s so wonderful.

There’s an additional love in your soul that does not belong to you. It’s Gaster–He’s not here, but yet he is. Gaster is witnessing this moment, and you can feel the pride he feels for Papyrus. The pride he has in his son’s kindness and empathy. The pride he has for his son’s personality and strong character.

Ooh, this moment is too much for you.

Papyrus pulls away and fucking pets your head, “I WILL TAKE CARE OF SANS WHILE YOU ARE AWAY.”

“Make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, Papyrus,” You rub his arms up and down, “I made the mistake of putting this responsibility on you without even thinking, but you need to be taken care of, too."

Papyrus jerks in surprise. He understands his role in the Underground very well. Be the idol of positivity and never falter in his morale. Be bombastic and show off his greater strength while (mostly) hiding any insecurities he might have. Take care of others because he is strong enough to do it alone.

That is his role here in Snowdin, in the Underground. Papyrus understands this well, it’s just something that fell on him naturally over time.

Papyrus looks away for a second. You’ve only been around for a short time, yet you see through a lot of Papyrus’ walls that he put up. You see through all this and address it when no one else does.

Maybe Sans sees through it too, but he doesn’t do or say anything about it otherwise. If Sans knows all of Papyrus’ inner secrets, then Sans does nothing with it.

And… Papyrus is sure the same is true for Sans. The hidden things Sans keeps to himself, you must see through it and handle it with integrity. That must be why Sans has taken such a liking to you.

Honestly… Papyrus might be a little jealous.

“I… I WILL, [Y/N],” Papyrus awkwardly clears his throat, “WHEN YOU RETURN AGAIN, WOULD YOU LIKE TO HAVE ANOTHER DAY OF FUN?”

“Yes!” You immediately agree eagerly, “Paps, we should come up with some game plans to get Undyne to accept you into the Royal Guard!”

“OH, YOU ARE SO RIGHT! BUT HOW WOULD WE EVEN DO THAT?”

You tap your nose twice and point to him, “That’s what we gotta figure out together when I get back.”

The door to Sans’ room opens and closes, Childe and Morax start meowing at, presumably, Sans’ return. Sans is talking to them, but you’re more invested in your conversation with his brother.

“Actually, I might have something in mind! How much do you know about The Odyssey?” You ask.

“THE WHAT?”

“Bro, Odysseus had a lot of big brain ideas in that book. I’m sure I can find something in there that we can use for inspiration. You’re really strong, right?”

Papyrus poses dramatically, his cape flowing in the wind, “UH, OBVIOUSLY.”

“I knew it. So if you can’t prove yourself to Undyne with your strength because that’s not working, you can prove yourself with your smarts!” You smack your fist onto your open palm, “Papyrus, you’re a lot more witty and self-aware than anyone gives you credit for. I think we can use that to our advantage.”

“are you trying to get my bro to rob a bank?” Sans chuckles as he joins you two.

“DON’T BE SILLY, BROTHER. WE’RE GOING TO OUTWIT UNDYNE INTO LETTING ME INTO THE ROYAL GUARD!”

“Yeah! That’s the spirit!”

“…yeah, okay,” Sans readjusts his jacket, “you ready, [y/n]?”

You nod, “Yep! Oh, my bags-”

“-i already took care of them,” Sans waves a dismissive hand, “pap, i’ll be back in less than two hours. you’ll probably need to let the cats out in a bit.”

“I CAN HANDLE IT,” Papyrus puts his hands on his sassy hips, “I’LL BE EAGERLY AWAITING YOUR RETURN, [Y/N].”

“See you soon, Papyrus.”

Your walk to the Ruins will take about an hour. Sans made it clear he doesn’t want to stay long, only enough to meet Toriel and to make some talk with her. You think she’ll try to keep him longer, so that will be fun to witness.

Ah, you’re so excited to see her!

Tags:

@adriixboo

@lemonboy011

@fetusbaconegg

@fluffyart5000

[mania-sama]

😊 and 📅 for the ask game!!

you ask and i shall PROVIDE

➼ 😊 A fic that made you smile on a bad day

Soccer Ball, More Like Sock Her Balls by grandmascokebag, MystK04. I cannot describe this fic in a way that does it justice. It's a Jujutsu Kaisen modern: no powers AU that is so fucking ridiculous at every point and turn that it is impossible to not laugh. It's pure crack for the sake of crack and I love it to PIECES. I think they did genuinely upload on some rough days of mine by coincidence, and it is sufficient to say that I was cracking up even when I saw the EMAIL for the update. I mean, really. Look at the title. Look at who WROTE IT. The authors have such a talent at being stupid and funny and ridiculous in every single line just for the hell of it. And, you know, it actually DOES have a plotline. It just has some sidequests along the way.

It's just a silly crack fic that hasn't been updated in half a year. But I sitll have hope that one day the authors are gonna come around and add one more chapter. That would certainly put a smile on my face. Maybe they'll do it when I'm having a bad day again...

Quotation:

“Wait,” Gojo paused. “Isn’t alcohol a sin?” “It’s only a sin if you get drunk,” slurred the clearly drunk man. Gojo shrugged the comment off, not willing to waste his limited brainpower on the thought. “Hate the sin, love the sinner, I guess.” “EXACTLY.” the older man clapped him hard on the shoulder. “You get it.” “Sure, sure. It’s like the age-old question, y’know,” Gojo almost fell off the stool as he leaned back. “Gay son or thot daughter?”

(Don't let this quote fool you. The chapter is actually in Megumi's point of view. The whole fic can be any point of view at any point in time. ALWAYS stay on your toes.)

➼ 📆 A fic you’d re-read 10 years from now

... When I Awake by wildflowertea. NO I am not just saying this because you wrote it. I am saying this because this fic literally changed my perspective on life, death, and suffering.

Not to get into my feelings too much, but I do experience some pretty crazy mood swings every couple of months. I will be doing well, phenomenally so, and then I will collapse and burn out of nowhere. I don't talk about my swings publicly anymore because that's just not what I really do; if I need a place or space to rant, I have friends and family. I no longer feel the need to air out my current/active grievances and struggles with my mental health and body on the Internet. I also think it would be weird considering what people follow me for (which is, decidedly, not for my mental health journey).

But anyway, the point is: I am familiar with depression and general angst and how it affects me. I have lived life as much as the next person. I know that, in a decade from now, I may have forgotten some of the lessons I learned when I originally read your fic. Beyond being an amazingly well-written, well-structured fic, you literally changed my life. When I write, I aspire to craft something as elegantly as you did. So, if I am being completely honest, this is the fic I imagine I will be crawling back to in a decade from now. I will have new life experiences, new outlooks, and I imagine I will want to see how that compares to the fic you finished two years ago (GOD it's been two years already?)

For anyone unaware: this is a Bungou Stray Dogs fic where Dazai is the spirit of his comatose body after a failed(?) suicide attempt, and Chuuya is a musician who just lost his father and is thus taking a complete detox from the world itself by trapping himself in (unknowingly) Dazai's old apartment to wrap himself in his pain and misery. Neither are in a good place at the beginning of the fic. But, somehow, they come out quite alright. I cried 3 times reading this, if it gives any of you any sort of clue as to how emotionally this impacted me.

Quotation:

“Why am I here?” Dazai asks. “After all this time.” Death stares at him, its one visible eye narrowed. “Are you here to take me away?” Death raises an eyebrow as if insulted by the very implications.  “I am not cruel, Osamu.” But that is no answer.  “Walk with me.” “No,” Dazai says. 

(The entire meeting with Death is my favorite scene in the entirety of this story, if that wasn't obvious. It made me feel. It made me feel a LOT.)

[pascaloverx]

Strangers?

Part Two

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Author's note: This fanfic is set in the creation of Jenny Han. Conrad Fisher and other characters mentioned in the future do not belong to me. I hope you like this fanfic, depending on how it goes, I'll decide if this fic will have more parts or just this one. This fanfic is recommended for all audiences, there will be no adult content in it, only possible inappropriate language and alcohol consumption.

You arrive at the beach some time later, and you realize you might have dozed off on Conrad's shoulder. Embarrassment washes over you, and you quickly move away.

"Tell me you didn't hear me snoring…" You know there's a real chance he heard your snoring or that you drooled on his jacket. Great first impression.

"You know, you do this funny thing with your nose when you're sleeping. And if you want to know, the snoring wasn't that bad." He says while smiling, and you feel like you could dig a hole in the ground and bury yourself in it. Your day is getting better and better.

"I'm so glad we're finally here. I can't wait for the ice cream, although it's probably melted by now." You say, incredibly excited, but Conrad seems to find it strange.

"Why would you be happy that your ice cream melted?" Conrad asks as we get out of the car. He grabs the groceries, and I close my car and grab a blanket I had in the trunk.

You both sit on the beach, and you realize you have no idea where you are, and for some reason, that's comforting. You feel like you've spent your whole life trying to find yourself, never allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of being spontaneous and lost. You grab the tub of ice cream and a plastic spoon you bought from the little shop, while Conrad takes the beer, and you both watch the sun begin to set.

"Want some?" You say, pointing to the tub of chocolate ice cream in your hands, offering it to Conrad, who seems to be realizing that the ice cream wasn't the only thing that heated up during your car ride.

"I don't know how warm beer and melted ice cream affect a person's stomach. But judging by the way you're digging in, I guess the ice cream must be great." He says between sips of beer, and you try to clean your mouth as soon as you realize you might be making a mess.

"How's it now?" You ask while trying to clean your face; he then reaches out toward your lip and wipes it on the left corner. You just watch him, feeling a certain intimacy in this gesture. Suddenly, you shake yourself to stop deluding yourself.

"Now it's perfect. Tell me something, what made you so lonely that you wanted my company? If I may ask, of course." He add, trying to steer the conversation toward you, hoping to uncover the reasons behind your solitude.

"If we're going to do this, we have to do it right. I propose a truth or dare game." You suggest, trying to lighten the mood and make the situation more comfortable.

"Okay, truth or dare?" Conrad asks nonchalantly.

"Truth." you respond, almost whispering. You gaze out at the sea, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. You already know what he wants to hear, so you sigh and begin to explain the twist your life has taken in the last 24 hours.

"I was working as a babysitter to pay off the student loan I took, and like any foolish young person, I fell for the sweet words of the eldest son of the family I worked for, who happened to be the father of the baby I was taking care of. We were the same age, so naturally, one thing led to another. But I found out yesterday that I was part of a social experiment. Someone he used to show his parents that he knew how to handle life. So I decided to come here to contemplate life since now, besides being single, I'm also unemployed." You say it all at once, hoping your foolishness goes unnoticed.

"You know..." Conrad starts, a faint smile on his lips, "sometimes life throws curveballs at us when we least expect it. But it's how we handle those curveballs that define us. You've shown incredible strength by facing your situation and taking charge. You're not alone in this, and hey, who knows? Maybe this unexpected turn might lead you to something even better."

"Is that something even better you?" You say while smiling truly extravagantly. You apologize quietly for the almost-laugh that escaped you.

Conrad chuckles, a genuine smile appearing on his face. "Well, who knows?" he replies, a playful glint in his eyes. "Life is full of surprises, right?"

"Enjoy the fact that you're in a good mood and tell me why you were having a mental breakdown in that convenience store earlier. I imagine your story is as good as mine."

"Oh, believe me, my story is not as eventful as yours. I was just having a classic existential crisis in the middle of snack aisle, questioning my life choices and wondering if I'll ever find true happiness." Conrad replies with a half-smile, trying to downplay his own troubles.

"It depends on what you think true happiness is…" You say, taking another spoonful of ice cream.

"Isabel Conklin was my happiness. Or still is. Do you know when the person you love stops being your happiness?" He asks.

"I think happiness shouldn't entirely depend on another person. Perhaps, when we learn to find joy within ourselves, the people around us become complements to that happiness, not exclusive sources of it." You respond, contemplating the question of happiness and love.

"I don't know if it helps or makes it worse. Either way, truth or dare?" He directs the question at you, attempting to steer away from the subject.

"I'm inclined to choose 'truth' again." You respond, observing his attempt to change the topic. Deep down, you're starting to believe that it's more than just a matter of a broken heart.

"It's not fair for you to choose only truth. Where's the girl who told me to move out of her way so she could drive past?" Conrad says, trying to tease me.

"Alright, hit me with your best shot, big guy." You try to sound fearless, but deep down you know he won't ask for anything crazy, right?

"I challenge you to take a plunge into that sea and have a nice swim in that probably freezing but invigorating water." He says, pointing towards the ocean. What a tease. You're definitely going to catch a cold here.

"Come with me?" You say as you strip off most of the clothes you have on. If you go in with this many clothes, you might get sick anyway. Conrad seems to ponder for a moment but eventually joins you.

For a few moments, it feels like the two of you get lost in the water, as if it's blissful. Then you look at Conrad and ask, "Truth or dare?"

Conrad responds after a dive, "Dare." You look into his eyes and smile. Then you say loudly, "I dare you to do something spontaneous, I don't know. Whatever comes to your mind first… if you need suggestions, I have a few."

For a moment, you both lock eyes, he thinking about what he wants to do and you observing what he will choose. You imagine him stepping out of the sea and approaching the elderly couple nearby, asking for a photo, or perhaps he'd ask for the phone number of the beautiful stranger walking towards the beach. But he manages to surprise you. Before you know it, his lips are on yours. Gently, he gives you a peck. A peck that starts to linger, maybe because it's the first time your lips meet his. You grab his hair, pulling your face closer to his. You're only interrupted by a couple shouting his name near where you left your clothes.

[desceros]

I just gotta say- I usually don't like established relationship fics (Even if it's just like friends) because it always feels like you're... missing something. There's a detachment for me, usually, because I don't get to see how this relationship is formed. Not really. I miss those first glances, the awkward meetings, just all that fluff and yearning as the relationship develops that I guess my heart craves?

But you write in a way that includes that, like the scene in your latest piece where reader is laying on the couch, thinking of all the happy memories and such that have happened in that space. It's a very fine line between telling and showing that you dance immaculately, so it doesn't feel like exposition... because it really isn't? It fills that craving for seeing how the relationship is forming even without the events unfolding directly in front of my eyes. I don't know how else to explain it, just... it's good. It's really, really good. You did the same thing in Euclidean Line, if I remember correctly (God I'm really feeling the urge to reread that one), where there was... sort of a montage, for lack of a better word? When Donnie and reader (don't know what else to call them) were getting closer outside of their meet-ups. Usually I hate time-skips or the author explaining something that I'd really rather just read, but you do it in a way that makes it feel like you're not missing too much, there's still just a bit left to the imagination. I'm sure it's for time's sake/not wanting the fic to drag, something like that? But it's hard to come across an author that does it so well and I appreciate it so much. I swear, I need to start taking notes on the little subtleties of your writing because just. Ugh. I really want to be able to explain myself better it's just good!!

Can't wait to read literally whatever you put out next!! You're one of few authors where it doesn't matter what you're writing, I'll read it anyways. I really wasn't a huge fan of bayverse until I saw you writing the turtles (Among a few others) now I uh. Might have to go back and watch those movies again.

But eat food, drink water, and I hope your wrists are nice to you!! Mine have been sensitive lately so it's more on the forefront of my mind, I haven't seen you mention it so I've just been hoping things have been better on that side for you. I hope you can get some good sleep too, even when you're able to write through it I still kinda worry!! Like I know you're a fully capable adult but. So am I and insomnia is ass, so... yeah I just hope things go well for you!!

it's funny you should say that, as for the longest time, i Hated putting time skips in my writing. abhorred it. would do it as little as possible. because there's so much characterization you can squeeze out of the smallest details, right? like, when they wake up. what do they do? do they drink coffee? tea? how do they take their coffee? do they get dressed before or after breakfast?

but there's an amount of characterization that becomes... excessive. like, sure, the character feels more like an actual person because of this. but does it serve the fic? i balk at the traditional writing advice that "every sentence must progress the plot," because i love basking in seemingly unimportant moments; but i do think there's truth to a modified version of that thought. "every detail must serve the fic."

take symphony, for example. in the first chapter, i go into detail on what viola-chan includes in her apology bags for her neighbors. at first glance, it could seem like a small list of that doesn't really add anything to the character. it certainly doesn't add anything to the plot. and yet, you learn a lot of what she values, what things she sees as important. she has a hobby (two homemade cookies), she doesn't like pain (ibuprofen), she's comfortable financially (the gift card for coffee), she Will practice even though it's annoying to hear (the ear plugs), but she's also kind enough to bend those rules for extenuating circumstances (her phone number, so you can call and ask her to take a break "if you have a baby or something"). it's an efficient way to get across a lot of character development, even though it feels like an unnecessary detail.

learning to balance how much you can skip and how much you should include for your desired amount of characterization is something that comes with experience, and it's something that comes down to taste. as you noted, i like to include things from skips that make them seem Less like a skip, and more like things you didn't see but still know about. this works for established relationships, too. how did they get together? well, maybe that's not so important. but a little hint of it is enough to show that it's real, that it's an event that happened, even if you the reader don't explicitly see it. there are many people who would find my writing excessively detailed, which is fine, as i would find theirs excessively barren. as with most things in art, it's largely subjective.

anyway, too-long answer aside, so glad you're enjoying and thank you so much for your thoughtful message :D

[gweelczz]

“The Start Of Something New”

Pairings: Shuri x Black!fem!reader Emerald Haywood x Riri Williams

Genre: Fluff, a bit of smut (minors GTFO)

Word count: this is just a preview chile

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, mentions of trauma and grief, a vase gets thrown and almost hits someone, ALOT of swearing (if I forget anything else I’ll come back and add it)

A/N: this just a lil filler til I publish my Mo Baby fic but if y’all vibe with it then I’ll continue

Summary: Emerald needs a new start after the traumatic events her and her brother plus Angel went through. On the other side of the U.S in New York, Y/N does too. What they find is more than they could ask for

“Man I don’t know why I waste my time arguing with you. What’s funny was you thinking I was finna bail on O and Ang like that. I went through the trenches with those niggas, we in this for life” Emerald huffed on the phone to her soon-to-be ex girlfriend. She was frustrated because once again she was awoken to a phone call from a money hungry whore who wanted her to up and leave her family. “Now I’m all for pussy but yours is not worth ditching my partnas for” she shrugged her shoulders hanging up the phone tossing it onto the couch. Making her way outside to the stables she grinned at Angel and OJ wiggling a pair of car keys in her hands “let’s a take a trip boys”.

Angel tilted his head looking at her with the expression of a confused dog while OJ remained stoic gazing at his sister sideways. “Were we going?” He grumbled wiping his gloved hands on a towel hanging on the railing. “We going on a road trip, far away from this city. We could use a change of scenery because me personally? I’m still on edge looking at the ground instead of up”. She continued grinning waiting for their responses. Angel made a face on contemplation before nodding his head “honestly? I’ve been wanting to leave since we killed that thing” he mumbled gazing over at OJ who was the last verdict to vote. OJ thought for a moment humming quietly to himself. He only had Lucky left and this ranch only held bad memories recently so why not? They could take Lucky and put this place in the rear view mirror.

He looked between the two of them before nodding his head. “Let’s pack up Lucky, everything else and let’s do it, we got enough money.” Emerald and Angel high-fived before running into the house to pack leaving OJ to chuckle and shake his head

Meanwhile Y/N groaned in her dorm room rolling her eyes at her roommate who was talking in a scientific tone she comprehended she just didn’t wanna hear it. She smacked her teeth throwing a pillow at Riri from where she sat on her bed with an overdramatic groan. “Go bore Shuri with that shit! Ion wanna hear it right now mannnn” it was Riri’s turn to smack her teeth rolling her eyes throwing the pillow back. “If I wanted to talk to Shuri I’d call her and tell her to hop on her Black Panther jet, I wanna talk to you. She plopped down next to Y/N on the bed sitting crisscrossed.

Y/N smacked her teeth and turned away from the other girl rolling her eyes. “Y/N… just admit you like her” Riri spoke while sipping on a caprisun. Y/N whipped her head around glaring at Riri “I do not like her..” she grumbled folding her arms. “Then why is her name “Sthandwa” in yo phone?” Riri grinned wiggling her eyebrows. “I’m done with you and this conversation” Y/N huffed getting up walking out of the room leaving a laughing Riri on her bed alone.

[discodeviant]

HARRINGROVE FLIP REVERSE IT DAY 6: Fake Dating Trope Subversion | Teen | 6.2k

DEVASTATED that this is late, but I'm happy with the final result, so it's better that I took my time instead of rushing it lol. Fun lil teacher Steve dynamic for the soul <3 Please enjoy!!

Read the Full Fic on AO3 Made for @harringrove-flip-reverse-it!

Preview below!

Billy has always had his fair share of inappropriate crushes.

An older gentleman passing through from Los Angeles, random tourists at the beach with heavy accents and eyes that he’d have liked to pick apart. One client at the auto shop he used to work at whose AC relay he had to fix, and who returned time and time again to buy coolant. Crushes that he knew were never going to happen, and that he never cared enough about to try. There were hot guys all over San Diego, though few ever truly caught his eye.

Even fewer were a part of his daily routine.

“Max, get the hell up, or you’re walking!”

“Hold on, asshole!”

Billy didn’t mind driving her around, really, but it was only September, and he thought he would lose all of his hair before May. A month since Max hit high school was a month where the pseudo-dad charade was amped up to one-hundred, and he was in for one hell of a ride until she graduated.

It was coming up on one year since it had just been the two of them. Working two jobs since he was fifteen and hiding the money from his dad was the only reason Billy had been able to afford his own place at all, let alone be deemed fit to take over as Max’s legal guardian. He was twenty-four with a clean, safe apartment and steady income, and despite ceaseless arguing that they hadn’t quite gotten over yet, Max was on his side. She would have been no matter what.

“I’m leaving!”

“Jesus Christ, Billy—“

She was still brushing her teeth by the time he revved up the car, worked the engine a few times for dramatics, and grimaced when she spit into the grass. “You are so fucking gross, Max,” he said when she got into the passenger’s seat, idly spinning the wheel of her skateboard.

“Says the guy with cigarette breath.”

Billy laughed; he couldn’t argue there.

Between the radio and forgettable chatter, rides to school were far too loud for eight in the morning, but that was their thing. It was so different from how things used to be, they didn’t care. They liked it that way. Just an obnoxious guy and his more obnoxious step-sister having the time of their lives before something went wrong again, but that would be later’s problem.

Right now, Billy’s problem was pulling up to Sunny Oaks High School without giving himself away by sticking around so Mister Harrington, Max’s biology teacher, could wave hello. It happened once on the first Thursday—maybe he’d recognized Billy from the tour—and the flip in Billy’s stomach was familiar and far too strong. Mister Harrington was one handsome fellow indeed: tall and lean with the most gorgeous brown hair Billy had ever seen. It made his heart race and his face heat up, but that was something he just couldn’t fucking afford, so he got into the habit of letting his tires screech before the door even closed all the way.

It was a crush. One of those based purely on appearances, because he had yet to speak to Mister Harrington. He only heard from Max how much fun he was, that he explained things well and never gave pop quizzes. Apparently he was funny too, which definitely didn’t add to Billy’s narrow image of him in the slightest. Billy didn’t think about him telling some stupid taxonomy joke and laughing while the class watched with confused frowns, or chuckling to himself while grading papers when he came across a particularly wrong answer.

Billy would be over it by the next week.

Okay, by the next month.

Okay, after parent-teacher conferences, because then he would actually speak to Mister Harrington and learn of all the reasons why he was unattractive.

It should have been easy to wait outside the classroom by himself, reading a book to avoid the real parents with spouses and other kids and respectable jobs. It should have been easy to smile, introduce himself, shake a hand with the same charm he’d used since puberty started working in his favor, but Mister Harrington—damn him—made it so much harder. Up close, Billy noticed the moles dotting his cheek and chin and neck and arms—and, god, it was impossible.

Continue Reading on AO3

[vienssunshine]

7, 69, 73, and 75 for your writing ask! btw.. I adore you and your writing sm, stay sexy 😔💜

Kisses for submitting this ask 💋

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

The next fic I’d like to post is a Choso x fem!reader work which is already written and currently in the editing process. I’ll add the intro below! :)

Your friends said Shibuya was the place to be for Halloween, that they would just die if you didn’t join them for the party tonight. You surrendered to their begging—it’s not like you had other plans—and put on a more-slutty-than-tasteful vampire costume to accompany them for the festivities in the square. It should be a good time, you thought, the perfect opportunity to get buzzed and maybe laid. But as the screams got louder and you realized that no, someone hadn’t slipped something into your drink and yes, that the stampede coming towards you was real, your only concern became staying alive.

69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

I try my best to reblog fics I find in tumblr with the tag #sunshine favs, but I have been holding out on my praises for my favorite fic until the last chapter comes out. It’s called Blackmail by @crouching-vinus. It’s a Sukuna x fem!reader AU work. It’s also funny how much I love how they write Maki (because I’m in love w Maki obvi) even though she gets so little screen time. Oh, also, I really like the fics I have bookmarked on my ao3!

73. What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Characterization and descriptions. I think these two things come to mind because I am always worried I mess them up—which I probably do at some points—so when someone compliments me regarding these, it really sticks out.

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

I was floored by the fact people were into Body Count so much that they were waiting on the next chapter. Crazy to me! I want to keep the story going but it’s hard knowing people are waiting so long for an update, especially if it’s not the fic im currently working on.