#[ tide ur not helping ]

[captainseamech]

                Wheezing

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!

i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33

thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!

Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)

This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.

Tangerine, Tangerine

Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!

Word Count: 4494

_______________________________________

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 

Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”

“Green Two check.”

“Green Three check.” 

 It was just a kiss. 

“Green Four check.” 

 It was just a-

“Green Five check.” 

Just a-

“Green Six check.” 

Just-

“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 

It wasn’t just a kiss. 

You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 

This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 

Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 

The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 

Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 

Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.

You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 

The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 

Simple. 

In theory. 

Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 

But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 

No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 

You swallow. 

You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 

I hadn’t just been a kiss. 

You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 

He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 

Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 

It made a lot more sense. 

Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 

They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 

Sickness bubbled in your throat. 

You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 

“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 

“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 

Hank chortled. 

Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 

Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 

“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 

Yeah. Now you had. 

The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 

Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 

You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…

But you had thought it was…

It didn’t matter. 

You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 

That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 

Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 

It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 

A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 

You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 

Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?

“That one here, you see it?” 

“Yeah?” 

“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”

You’d laughed. 

“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 

Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 

You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 

“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 

That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 

You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 

It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 

Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 

Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 

“Fuck.” 

The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 

“Blue in place now!”

“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”

“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 

“How far away is the Delta?” 

“Calling in attack pattern!” 

You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 

That didn’t bode well. 

You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 

Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.

“Targeting not working!”

“It’s out!”

“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”

“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 

“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 

You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 

“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.

You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 

“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 

It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 

The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 

Good. 

But there’s so, so many of them. 

Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 

More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 

The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 

“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 

You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 

The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 

“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 

There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 

Frizz.

“No…” 

“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”

You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.

“Green Two check!” Cril.

“Green Three check!” Petal. 

Nothing. 

“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 

The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 

You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 

There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 

All you need is…

Another alarm. 

“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 

A chorus of yells answer you. 

A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 

And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 

The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 

“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 

Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 

You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 

You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 

It’s not enough.

You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 

It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 

Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.

“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.

They must have scrambled after first contact. 

The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 

The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 

You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 

Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 

Two chances left. 

One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 

Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 

You don’t answer.

One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 

Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 

You don’t answer.

You fire. Hit. 

Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 

The canon doesn’t go down. 

You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 

You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.

“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 

Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 

You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 

Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 

“-cannon’s down-”

“-Jump!-”

A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.

The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-

.

The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 

Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 

You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 

There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 

The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 

You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 

Make it look like you had a weapon. 

Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 

Can’t let them take you alive. 

There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 

For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 

You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 

You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…

.

When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 

I'm dead.

You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 

But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.

And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.

“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 

Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 

“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 

“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 

“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 

“What?”

“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 

“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 

You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 

Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 

You snort. 

He smiles. 

“Who did we lose?” 

Hank sighs, “three…”

You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 

“There-”

There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.

You swallow, sickness building in your throat.

He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 

He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 

“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 

“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.

Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 

Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 

“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”

“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”

He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 

“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 

The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 

You nod. 

“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 

“You pushed her away?” 

“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 

“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”

“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 

He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 

“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”

“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”

“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 

He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 

You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 

“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.

“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”

He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 

You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 

“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 

You scoff. 

“You are.” He kisses you again. 

You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 

“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 

You nod. “She’s a good person.”

He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 

You touch his cheek lightly. 

“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 

You shake your head in surprise and he nods.

“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 

You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 

Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 

Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 

“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[seafoam-taide]

hmghmjgmf... i want to draw refs for all my new ocs for artfight... but i want to play hollow knight randomizer again... but i need to finish my replay of wandersong... but i still havent finished everhood!!! and i have!!! actual responsibilities to do also!!! help!!!!!!!!!

[quimichi]

WAIT HELP-

soo likee, I saw a reel on ig that is like a scaramouche voice saying "You're a God, do you think I'm evil?"

AND LIKE I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF YOUR ACC CUZ IT JUST FITS SO WELL WITH YOUR genshin x creator!reader STORIES😭

The reel: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1hH_8ON8sY/?igsh=eTM0NnV5bnh5dWE0

(This isn't a req since ur reqs are currently closed I just wanted to say this :p but like, you can also do this if you want, not pressuring tho since ur prob busy^^)

A/N: the fact that you thought of me 🥹🤧

Scaramouche's thoughts spiral, the silence stretching longer. The longer your stare, the more he grows certain of what you must conclude.

With each passing second, his existence feels less worth preserving, and yet... He has come this far, and he can't help but ask the final question: "... Am I... evil?"

"No." His eyes widen, his breath catches in his throat.

No?

The word resonates within him, sending tremors of hope up his spine and through his heart. No. Scaramouche tries to take in the meaning of the word, its significance. You've never answered him like this before. "... You don't find me evil?" he finally asks, his voice cracking slightly with uncertainty.

"You're broken, you have lost all hope and believe in humanity. But your past mistakes don't make you evil, if anything they're a cry for help." Your words are an anchor that steadies him. You acknowledge his pain, his struggles... you understand him. It's an unquantifiable relief to know that you don't reject him as a hopeless cause. The floodgates inside him begin to open up, and a tide of emotions spill out. He looks up at you again, his expression vulnerable, raw.

"What do you see... now... when you look at me?," Scaramouche's voice wavers slightly. It's hard to look you in the eyes, but he won't let his gaze stray. The answer is too important. "I see a broken boy who needs help...someone." "Someone... like you?," Scaramouche's voice is as tender and fragile as a baby's, but his words carry a meaning as heavy as a boulder.

"Will you help me... be better?"

[feralforfrank]

hey ☺️

the only thing on my mind is rooster shaving his mustache for whatever reason and gf reader is upset ! silly little blurb i luv ur writing muah

the stache incident.

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW X GN!READER

cw fluffy drabble ig :) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

a/n ANON!!! ILY THANK YOU FOR READING MY STUFF <3333333 much love to you, MWAH!

masterlist | taglist

You're shocked, heartbroken, in shambles, you name it. The grocery bag almost slips from your fingers when you hear the horrid sound of the electric razor from the bathroom. You place the bags on the counter before practically running inside.

You want to douse your eyes with gasoline when you see the damage. Bradley had been mentioning here and there that he wanted to shave his moustache just to see how he'd look without it. You'd forbade such talk inside the house, and he chuckled before dropping the subject.

But what seemed to be your biggest fear was becoming your new reality. With your keys clutched in one hand, the other holding on for dear life at the door frame, you watch your dear boyfriend shave the last of his moustache over the sink.

He hasn't noticed you yet. Music is playing from his phone, but you can't bring yourself to recognise the tune. This situation is way too tragic. When the buzzing sound stops emanating from the vile machine, Bradley finally turns around, having heard your panting.

"Babe, this isn't what it looks like." He speaks with hesitation and guilt.

"What did you do?" Your every word is punctuated.

Bradley opens his mouth but closes it, and you shake your head expectantly. "Well?"

"I-I was trimming it, and Din here," he looks at your cat, laying on the floor as if he's the criminal here, "came between my legs and scared me, and I moved my hand, and I shaved more than I should. It didn't look good anymore."

You scoff, pushing yourself off the doorway and turning to walk to your bedroom. Not once did you believe Bradley.

"Babe? Baby, c'mon!"

"I am not talking to you, hairless cat."

You hear him chuckle. "Hey, it's not that bad!" Bradley follows you into the bedroom.

"Never said it was." You shrug, taking your shirt off.

He's behind you in seconds, kissing your neck, his hands encircling your waist and pulling you closer. "You called me a hairless cat."

"Don't have a problem with cats. I own one." You pause, looking up. "Now, I got another one! Hm! Look at that!"

"Hey!" Bradley blows a breath where your jawline meets your ear, causing you to shiver.

You spend a few seconds like this, his hands around you, your back pressed against his smooth shirtless chest, face buried in your neck. Feels weird without the stache.

"So, you don't like it?" You realise you've spoken aloud when he questions you.

You shake your head. "I think you look attractive either way." You turn to Bradley, never escaping his grasp. 

"I'm only joking. You look like a baby. It's adorable!"

Bradley looks offended. "Well, in that case, I am letting it grow and never shaving it ever again."

You grab the back of his head, kissing where he used to have perfectly trimmed hair. The spot is soft and smooth as a baby's butt.

You can't help but smile. 

[ taglist @roosterschanelslut @maverick-wingman @amnmich @mattyskies @wildcole @gretagerwigsmuse @bespinnn @oikawasblueearbud @rip--tide @barryswifey @fanboyluvr @spookys-girl @lonelywitchv2 @j-deimos @heywheresemily @avengersfan25 @piceous21 @sarahjoestewy-blog @n3ssm0nique @mouseymagines @xx-kate-xx13 @vaporub4ever @reading-rosa @marie1115 @dxvanadeline @plaboneruda @awesomebooklover17 @mxlsmith @mak-32 @torresbarnes @depressed-focker @kwanimations @magicstrengthandcourage @graysondanvers @danielmarie @giuliamunson @bordelhoe @studentville-struggles @melody-death @desert-fern @marvelsimps @darling-seraphina @erinnn-brry @mvnsons-slvt @darklordofthesimp @eberles ]

[ovaryacted]

hi baby i just wanted to ask for ur thoughts on like.. how leon likes being touched and caressed and stuff! like kisses on his shoulder over the scar where he got shot, a gentle but possessive hand on his thigh, rubbing his back as you hug him, lightly dragging your nails against his scalp, running your fingers through his hair, etc <3

OMGG, hey boo <3. Of course, I’d love to talk about how Leon likes to be touched, especially because I headcanon him as someone who is touch-deprived and wouldn’t beg for touches but he would crave it. I also didn’t choose a specific version of Leon for this answer, it’s more like a general perception of how he’s receptive to touch, but if you want to pick & choose which one fits a version of him best, feel free to do that! Hope you like it! :)

For the most part, Leon is a big fan of being touched gently and with consideration. He’s been through so much shit, body slammed, squeezed, pummeled…the general consensus is that Leon has been put through the wringer. So to be touched like he’s made of porcelain reminds him of his humanity and helps him remember that not all touches are violent or threatening.

He likes feeling your hand cupping his cheek, running your thumb over his cheekbone in soft swipes. It brings back fond memories of how his mother used to do the same after a long day of playing outside, wiping the dirt away from his face with a gentle smile. He’ll nuzzle his face towards your palm, wanting to bury himself into your warmth and never leave.

His favorite thing to do is probably cuddle for two reasons: one, he gets to be as close to you as possible, and two, he gets to be warm. He doesn’t mind being the one who holds you on top of him, but he likes being the one to lay on your chest or be the small spoon. It makes him feel like he’s being babied, using your chest as his personal pillow and wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt like an oversized teddy bear, pressing his nose against your neck so all he smelled was you, easing his senses and calming him down.

While he is resting on top of you, you’ll run your fingers through his hair, pushing his bangs back and doing it repeatedly like a tide against the shore. The touch makes him hum happily, purring like a cat when your nails rake down his scalp and towards his neck. You’d squeeze his nape, moving your hand up to make sure you got every part of his head and releasing the pressure he may or may not have. He likes it when you run lines up and down his back, outlining the curve of his spine and coming back up to trace or scratch the top of his shoulders. His body would be completely lax against you, closing his eyes and starting to doze off with ease.

If you want him to completely knock out, you’ll run your thumb over the bridge of his nose and eyebrow, pressing into his temple before moving to do it again. You could also rub the outer shell of his ear, sometimes it will tickle but usually it makes him feel good. It’s a trick that works on babies, literal babies, and somehow it also worked on Leon because once you did this, he’ll be out cold in 3 minutes flat. He’d think you’re some magician, that you’re doing witchcraft on him to give him the nicest 50-minute nap of his life. He usually has such a hard time falling asleep on his own unless he’s on the verge of collapse, but you make it so easy for him that he just lets it happen.

Cuddles and napping aside, there are other ways you show your affection by being physical with him. Coming up to squeeze him from behind, you’d give him kisses on his neck and keep your hands on his stomach. Sometimes it would make him blush, and most times it makes him smile, but he always likes waking up a little bit earlier in the morning so you can do just this.

Out in public, he likes it when you hold his hand or squeeze his arm as you’re walking with him. It’s like you’re showing him off to the world, showing everyone that he’s yours and he belongs to you. He especially likes it when you’re sitting next to him at dinner and put a hand on his thigh, giving him a faint squeeze and keeping your hand there. It short circuits his brain, and if you’re at some work event or having dinner with friends, it makes the small act of possession even better for him.

When you’re both alone, you’d give him a sneaky smack on his ass when he has his back facing yours, either doing laundry or washing the dishes. You’ll do it when you’re passing by him, your hand lightly tapping him and walking away as if it were nothing. Better yet, when you give him a squeeze on his rear it makes him flustered, rolling his eyes and trying to hide the way it makes his cock twitch.

As for the touches that make him the most vulnerable, it definitely involves his scars. He wouldn’t mention them outright, his scars would just be something you see and don’t mention again because you don’t want to make him uncomfortable. But after some time of dating him and getting comfortable with knowing how he acts and behaves, he’ll let you trace and kiss over every single scar on his body. Every bullet graze, scratch, or faded bite will be touched by you, and in a way, it’s like you’re kissing away his pain.

You’d carefully run your thumb over the most significant scar on his shoulder, kissing it over and over again and feeling Leon shudder underneath you. Whenever you do this, you see Leon for who he is, accepting all of his flaws and trauma, and acknowledging his pain and survival. You’ll remind him that he’s strong, that he’s enough, and that he’s human, things that he often doubts and never has time to appreciate himself. It’s moments like these that he’ll fall apart above you, being more open and vulnerable than he’s ever been in years, but he’s no longer scared that you’d run away because, in the end, you choose him and you’re here to stay.

[pinkrelish]

do you think once miss mouse and eddie were in an established relationship she’d bake cakes for his and adrie’s birthday every year?? i feel like she’d go full out for adrie like full on multi tiered princess cake and the first time she does it eddie and his baby just go absolutely feral in the best way possible

ps typ is my favourite slow burn EVER i love it withh all my heart ur so talented

today's my birthday so it seems fitting to answer this! wc: 496

morning dawns soft blue in a kitchen warmed by low lights, and orange coils. a kettle boils water too hot for a third cup of instant coffee, and cooked sugar enriched by vanilla bakes through the small apartment. suffocating heat from the oven on the early june day breaks sweat on your forehead as you re-whip the frosting you made an hour ago, plastic bowl in your arms still cold from the fridge. the yellow cake cooling on the rack simple, homemade. jack of all trades, master of none, it's nothing impressive, just something to tide adrie and neighborhood kids over until the big party on the weekend.

still, when your big snoring man shuffles in with a bedhead halo and plaid pajama pants with one drawstring longer than the other, his raw wonder catches the husky sleep deep in his throat—"aw, baby, what're you doin'?"

you shrug, too shy to admit how early you woke up to do this, suddenly embarrassed with your effort to make a good impression on his daughter's first birthday with you in her life. he had no clue what you had planned for her real cake, and already your cheeks went hot from the lovesick shine flooding his eyes, big softy about to cry while he scratched his stomach under his shirt.

"you're too much," he says in a shake of his head. too much on a thursday morning when her party comes saturday afternoon.

his bare feet scatter the balloons creeping across the carpeted floor, blown up by him late last night until he felt faint, and ready to be popped in the energetic rush of cake for breakfast. on his way to you, he passes the one wrapped gift of a latch hook rug kit beneath the happy birthday banner you hung crooked even with his help. it was a creativity driven present to keep her busy before she got her big girl bike in two days time. training wheels most definitely included.

any second now adrie would run through the streamers you both taped to the top of her door frame, so eddie made quick work of putting the frosting aside and smothering kisses atop your head, wielding his dad strength to hug you tight to his chest, steering you into a twirl by his hold on your wrists, rocking from foot to foot until your back was crushed to his front.

tucking his chin to mash his nose to your hair, his heavy hum vibrates through your skull as he surveys the usual munson fare mingling with your new traditions, slowing your bodies to a gentle sway until his sigh empties from his lungs. "you mean everything to us, you know that?"

"i know that," you answer so softly it was lost in the bubbling hiss from the kettle before he shut off the burner. "you're everything to me, too."

"thank you, baby."

"thank you, handsome." thank you for this moment, this family, this love.

[nikkisheep]

Idk if I'm asking in the right place or if ur requests are open but could u do smthn smutty for Glenn or Maggie(or both)

Feel Me

Glenn Rhee x female!reader

Warnings: Maggie and Glenn are not together (love them tho), smut, fingering, oral (f), p in v, Glenn being a sex god, praise, pet names (baby), mentions of walkers, mentions of Rick and reader dating, fluffy ending

Got a tad bit carried away

Summary: Glenn needs to let off some tension and who better than the girl waiting back at home for him.

Walkers were the main stress in this new world. They ate everything in their path. Humans, animals, anything you can name they ate. Their nasty hands and skin move about as they search for a meal to tide them over until they found another.

Glenn was working on the crops that Rick had him start growing. He did not know the first thing about farming but that was where his friendship with Maggie Green came in. He had learned the ropes on the farm with her but now she was busy with her own job. He was just starting to become overwhelmed.

You were sitting in a long shirt and panties while knitting a blanket. Judith was in need of a bigger blanket and you asked Rick if you could make her a new one. He admired your love for his daughter which was the entire reason he started to love you. But that was a long time ago. When you were on the road. Now that you were in a safe community, you and Glenn hit it off.

Your crush on Glenn started when you noticed that Maggie was taking an interest in him. You didn't mean to but your heart wanted him. You told him after he and Maggie broke up. You had just stopped seeing Rick and you needed a friend. In the end, you got a boyfriend who loved you.

Glenn walked through the door of the house, dirty from the hard day's work, and he gave you a peck on the cheek. He looked tired and stressed. You wanted to help him feel better.

"Baby, are you alright?"

"I'm just tired, is all." Glenn answered.

"Maybe I can help," You walked up to him and kissed his shoulder. Your hands started to massage the tension in his shoulders away, placing a kiss on his neck. Breathing him in, his smell fills your lungs. Dirt, sweat, pine wood, and just Glenn surrounded you. He sighed when you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. A slight beard had started to grow and you were quite fond of it. You found it to be sexy on the man.

"I wanna help you relax."

Kissing his lips deeply, you push his shirt off his body. Revealing a toned chest and lower stomach. Your hands wandered his skin, feeling the warmth from his body as Glenn deepened the kiss by grabbing your face. You pull away and grab his hand, leading him upstairs to the bedroom that you shared. His brown eyes followed your every move and traced your body. He loved you in so many ways more than just lust. He loved every part of you. He wanted to worship you in so many ways. He wanted to build a temple for just you and be your only worshiper if it made you happy. If it let him continue to see you like this.

Slowly undressing each other, gentle touches and kisses were exchanged between the two bodies that were pressed against each other. Seeking warmth and comfort in the hands of each other, the two of you laid down onto the soft mattress below. Glenn kissed your neck, making you grip his black hair slightly, and made his hot trail down to your core. He kissed each thigh, biting slightly so he could see the beautiful reaction that he all too well knows when he has you like this. He kisses you again, this time, on the very place where you need him most.

Your thighs close around his head and you arch your back slightly at the new found pleasure that Glenn's mouth provided for you. He licks at your gaping hole and moans, literally moans, at the sounds that you make for him. Your eyes meet with his brown ones in the dim lit room. You feel him smile against your lower body and then he started to suck on your pulsing clit. He toys with it, circling his tongue on the delicate bud as you whine above him.

"So beautiful," He muttered into your skin while you grind your hips up against his tongue. He chuckles before placing an arm on your waist to hold you down.

"Careful now, don't want this to end too quickly now would we?"

You whimper as he went back to his assaults on your cunt. He moves a hand up to you and gentle push inside two fingers. The stretch burns for a second but Glenn is curling his fingers against your sensitive walls. He ruts against the mattress as wetness floods from you, around Glenn's fingers as he moves them inside your body. He plays your body to the tune of his desires and he kindly let you cum on his fingers and mouth.

He kisses up your body, shaking with pleasure, humming for his touch. You would gratefully take whatever it is that he decides to give your lusting body. He kisses your neck before reaching your mouth. He slips his tongue through the gate of your swollen lips and licks at the roof of your mouth. You groan at the tart but sweet taste of your arousal.

Glenn props himself up with one hand and uses the other to move his cock to entrance of your body. He looks to your face as he pushes slightly in, watching your face contort into pleasure at the feeling of his body becoming one with yours. He rests his forehead against yours, his hair sticking to his head with his sweat and his scent floods your senses. It was just so Glenn. Just so home. He was your home.

"I gotta move," You nodded at his words and he pulled back slightly. Not wanting to leave your warmth for very long, for he thrusts back in as soon as he pulls out. His thrusts began to build as the coil in your stomachs began to tighten with the overwhelming pleasure that coursed red hot in your veins. The drag of his cock against the wet walls of your pussy was heavenly. The feel of the veins rubbing as the head of his dick kissed your g-spot every time.

Glenn leaned down and his chest pressed to yours, sticking together with the sweat that presented itself on your bodies. The heat of the act was rising while your moans started to get higher and higher. Glenn smiled at you.

"You're doing so good for me, baby."

You moaned at the praise and clenched tightly around Glenn. He stuttered his hips for just a second before gaining his composer again. His hips grazed yours as the movement above you continued with great haste. Glenn wanted you to cum once more before he got his fill. He was always more of a giver rather than a receiver and you lived for it. He always knew what he was doing. You remember that you joked about the man being a sex god who came to taunt you and you were right about him being a sex god.

His arms bulged as he strained to hold himself up while you wrap your legs around his waist and your nails scrape against the skin of his back, leaving angry red welts behind. Glenn whispers sweet nothings into your ear with his eyes closed because the sensations began to become too much.

With one more thrust of his cock, the band breaks and you climax heavily. Your orgasm releases the tension in your muscles when you felt the lovely feeling of Glenn's cum spilling inside your womb. He pushes himself as far as he can while thrusting a few more times, prolonging the pleasure of your orgasm.

Glenn lets himself go and he falls beside you, his shoulder on your chest but it still counts. He smiled at you before picking you up to take a bath. You sat in the warm water while he washed your body, careful of the sensitivity that had now taken over. You leaned into his warmth and kissed his hand when bringing it to your lips.

Glenn kissed your cheek and praised you on how well you had done for him. How good you were. How much you made him feel good. How you were the only one to make him feel that good.

"Thank you," He whispered once you had cuddled in bed.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

"Glenn, if you ever need to unwind, you know where to find me."

"I hope you know that this is more than using you as a stress relief."

"Baby, I knew the first time you made me feel good. I knew that this is what true love feels like."

"Thank you."

"For what?" You moved closer to his body. His arms wrapped around you.

"For loving me and just being in my life."

"Always."

[futterurl]

a mile schmidt idea: reader riding his thigh since he’s so tired from work but wants to see them get off anyway 🤭

oh my god PLS ive never been one for thigh riding but this is so fucking hot. oh my god ur so smart anon ily

WARNINGS: mike schmidt x fem! reader, thigh tiding (no way), clit play, orgasm

keep in mind i havent read a single thigh riding fic ever so im sry if this is like. super short and not good at all.

- - - - - - - - - - -

mike was so tired from his shift. he forced himself to stay up, just in case something happened. he opened the door to the sight of you laying down on the couch, your droopy eyes almost closing. once you heard the door. you looked up to see him.

he looked at you with lust in his eyes. seeing you, your beautiful figure lay on the couch. it was just what he needed to see after a hell shift.

he always felt bad, having you watch abby practically every single night. he wasn’t able to pay you back. he knew you deserved so much better, and with a tired, barely working brain, he didn’t think about the consequences.

“let me make it up to you.” he looked at you with tired eyes. he wanted to make you feel good, but he barely had any energy to do anything.

you stood up, confused. he didn’t let you talk as he kissed you, hands rubbing all over your body. you guys walked over to his room. he locked the door, making sure you were still making out with each other. ever touch filled with lust.

you started to straddle him, unconsciously grinding lightly on one of his thighs while kissing him. he got an idea.

“please. ride my thigh. wanna watch you cum on me.” he was practically begging at that point.

he pulled his pants down, only clad in his boxers. he helped you take off your pants and panties, revealing your dripping cunt to him. he wished he wasn’t so tired, or he’d ask you to sit on his face, or fuck you. something like that.

you sat back down on his thigh, your slick getting on his naked leg as you started to grind your cunt against it, needing to feel friction. he held his hands on your hips, keeping you balanced and steady as you rode his thigh. he squeezed your sides, he couldn’t get enough of you.

after you let out a slight moan, he brought you into his shoulder, noises muffled.

“gotta be quiet. no matter how much i wanna hear your pretty moans.”

you continued to let out muffled moans into his shirt as you rode his thigh with more vigor, your juices dripping down his leg. he could tell you were starting to feel really good.

once he dipped his hand down to rub your clit, you had a very hard time muffling your moans. you tried to be quiet, you really did, but as you were grinding on his thigh, you started to get close.

he looked at you, chasing your high. seeing your beautiful figure, bouncing on his thigh as you tried to cum, trying to silence your moans. it was almost enough to make him cum. almost. if he weren’t so goddamn tired.

“please, m’ close, please, fuck.” you whimpered, starting to get desperate. you started to ride his thigh even faster.

“come for me. let go. please. please come. wanna see it. you’re so hot.” he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he started to rub your clit even faster.

after a few more seconds, you were spasming on his thigh as you approached your orgasm. mike kept attaching your clit as you rode out your high, juices getting all over his leg.

once you calmed down, you just. leaned into him, starting to become as tired as he was.

he didn’t care that his leg was wet with your cum. he didn’t care if he was down bad. he didn’t care. all he wanted was this moment, for you to be in his arms. it was perfect for him.

after covering you both with a blanket, he wrapped his arms around you, as you both fell asleep, cuddling each other.

[beescake]

yea i very much agree with ur take on sollux in his relation to older technology, u get it

please id love if youd share some more of ur analysis on his character (as well as ur art bc that shit is 👌👌👌)

either way, thanks for feeding my brain worms

im glad it resonated!! :') always happy to explore his character, he contains multitudes!!!

i think i may be out of sollux analysis for now, in the sense where i don't have anything new to add that hasn't already been covered in these posts? (please add if there's more...)

why i like sollux (lackadaisicallexicon, 2014)

comprehensive sollux status guide (syblatortue, 2016)

bioware machine (lime-bloods, 2016)

fridgestuck (LaureledEevees, 2017)

mary sue (3d-gla22e2, 2019)

favorite sollux trait (3d-gla22e2, 2020)

doom-bound static (gendertrickster, 2023)

however i will say there's another thing i really like abt him:

his Range!

he has a v flexible face.. even with his neutral expression, you cant help but read a tinge of melancholy/pensiveness to it.

he deters people from getting too comfortable with him by acting crude, but no matter how unapproachable he looks you can't help but wonder if he's ok. seems like he's never content with himself.

just like karkat, anger gives him purpose = something to care about & react to. without it he can appear aimless/uncertain.

it's especially interesting when you compare him to aradia, who despite having endured a lot of shit, ends up enjoying the freedom of expanding her worldview, riding the unpredictable tide of the narrative and observing the changes. sollux... doesn't.

he doesn't like watching major things progress in a way he can't predict. the lack of certainty actually overwhelms him.

and it's pretty clear why; imagine the only reassurance you get after unknowingly killing ur gf is that "it needed to happen". the only way to appease that sort of emotional turmoil is by intellectualizing those events as inevitable and out of your control.

(hs, A6I5)

when you’re just a tool for the author, trying to sit out is just feeble self-preservation until you’re needed again. if you’re not called on stage to help/assist in some way, it feels like your presence spells doom (either you or someone else will get hurt). so you avoid Events as best you can.

[pxtched]

ok so this head has been rotting in my head and i think its time to let it free.

so pirate!miguel stumbles on siren!reader's territory by accident bc his ship got wrecked and he was sorta the only left of his crew (u can change that if u want ofc) and siren!reader saves him cus she wants to know if any other man is gonna come so she can prepare herself for a future attack. he wakes up by mouth to mouth but he doesnt realise until siren!reader herself says something about it. the rest you can decide.

i love ur fics sm! stay hydrated!<33

𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞

╰ Pirate!miguel x Fem!siren!reader.

╰ angst, death, slowly gaining trust then immediate betrayal, (not really…)

AN: this is so short I’m SO SORRY, thank you for letting it free!! Thank you for requesting and hope this is to your liking!

Miguel ohara.

That was a name that was well known, feared, and one of the strongest captains and have one of the most strongest crew in the sea. Get attacked by him? You’re dead, you aren’t making it out alive.

He’s listening to his crew mate talks about sirens, saying how they are worth a lot and they should go hunting for one! Miguel instantly rejected the idea, saying it’s a waste of time.

Miguel never really believed in sirens, he thought it was some tale to scare kids and to make pirates like him search endlessly for them.

“Awh c’mon!” “No Peter, It’s just a waste of time and resources.” “You are like probably the only captain that dosent believe in sirens” “Because I’m not stupid.”

He remembers helping another crew hunt a siren but never even saw it, nor heard it. Miguel scoffed at the fact he wasted his time helping someone hunt for something that probably wasn’t even real.

But now? He believes, he saw one. He even looked at one. Talked to one.

Miguel felt like he had a fever dream, he doesn’t know how to put it into words that what happened in that day was real and not some random dream.

He’s not even on his ship anymore, not his crew, just some random people. He dosent know what happened to his crew mates but just assumed the worst.

It happened so suddenly, He was sailing on the ocean on his ship with his crew mates. Laughing and just having fun. When he least expected it, the tides got rough, the waves got higher and it was stormy too.

The last thing he saw before passing out was a massive wave, All he remembers is feeling the impact and then black.

His ship wrecked god knows where, His crew mates most likely dead sinking down in the same ocean but different area than Miguel. Miguel was drowning alone.

Until you saw him, You noticed him sinking down. Your first thought was free food but then you realized who he is. He’s a pirate. The same ones who try’s to hunt your kind. You scowl at this discovery but you soon realized he’s alone, his ship is gone too.

You could get information if there’s any attacks coming, their weaknesses and then kill him.

So, you save him. Grabbing his body, stopping him from dying and throwing him on the shore. you look at his body, you recognize that symbol that’s on his chest...your eyes widened, you grit your teeth as the grip on him tightened.

This was the Captain that helped that crew hunt your kind. Yeah, you are going to kill this man afterwards.

You give him CPR, isn’t working. So you give him mouth to mouth. Soon enough he’s awake sitting up immediately, coughing up some water. He looks at you, looks around. He’s at some random island as some lady saved him.

“What do you want from me? Is there anyone else coming? Is there going to be future attacks I don’t know about?” You immediately question him.

He looks at you once again in confusion and opens his mouth to answer but his mouth closed then his jaw went slack as his eyes widened in horror as he realizes that you aren’t a human but a siren.

He frantically searches for his cutlass but you hold it in front of him “looking for this?” You say as you toss it in the water. He looks at it sink I the water then looks back at you in fear but regain his composure.

“I don’t mean any harm, I didn’t even know—“ you scoffed, not believing his words “Oh cut the bullshit, answer my questions now.” You demanded him.

You get closer to him narrowing your eyes at him as he backs up “Is there going to be any men attacking me? Is there going to be people trying to hunt me down?” You questioned him once again.

“I’m being truthful, I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything about people looking for you. I don’t mean harm, You can see that my crew mates are not here most likely dead. My ship is wrecked. So please trust me.” He pleads, you glare at him and backed off.

“Why would i ever believe a pirate Like you?” You sneered at him, and he sighed “Please, I’m alone. You have my word.” He pleads once again. You look at him trying to see if he’s trying to trick you but you don’t see any malice in his eyes.

You decided to trust him, you felt bad for him. And you especially know how it is to be alone so, you just nodded and point your head to the island “There’s some food there, You Can stay” you tell him and you swam away in the water.

He smiled and began to explore the island, trying to see what he can work with for the time being. He can deal with this, He is a bit shaken up that he just talked to a siren.

As time went by, you guys respected your guys space. Staying away from eachother…which was actually you avoiding him because you still hated him.

But after a couple of days, you talked to him more. Making short and awkward small talks but it’s something!

Now Miguel sits at the shore, looking at the water as he searches for you. He notices your eyes staring at him back and he’s a bit startled but he offers his hand to you, you swim up to him and take his hand.

“Yes?” You say, tilting your head. He smiled at you and puts an apple in your hand “Here, I don’t really know what you eat and i don’t want you to still hate me” you eyes widened at his kindness.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit “you don’t do your research?” You say as you take a bite of the apple, usually you’ll just eat whatever is in the sea or sailors but sometimes an apple wouldn’t hurt.

He shakes his head “No, I don’t focus on stuff like that. I just focus on where I’m going, why, and the safety.” He admits honestly, you raise and eyebrow at him being a bit skeptical of him.

“You were there helping another pirate hunt my kind” you pointed out and he sighed “you think I wanted too? It was a waste of my time and my resources. Even after that I didn’t believe”

You smile. Maybe he isn’t half bad “Realized I never got your name, What is your name?” You asked him.

He smiles, knowing he’s getting on good terms with you “Miguel, Miguel ohara” and he offered you a handshake, you give him a handshake.

“you aren’t that bad Miguel, I thought you were going to kill me or send men my way” you joked and he shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t either way, why would i crash my ship risk my teammates life and my own! just for a chance to get you?” He asks and you thought about it. Huh, he was right. “Dunno, people are desperate.” You shrugged and he laughed.

“True, true. I see pirates fight all the time and I don’t get why!” He says while eating some berrys, You didn’t even notice but he was halfway in the water. “So, how’s the pirate life been?” You asked him.

“It’s…Something alright, it’s always shocking something. Everyday is an adventure and I…had my crew mates with me, it was fun and I miss it. I miss their laughter, and…everything.” he tells you. His shoulders dropped as he has a frown on his face.

You feel bad for him, you understand how that feels to be left alone. To miss home, to miss everyone and everything.

You put a hand on his shoulder and then loved it up to his cheek for him to look at you.

“Hey, It’s okay. I understand where your coming from. Trust me, I know how it feels to be alone. I didn’t live here always, I was with my family, my friends but then…they came. I seen all of my family die in front of my eyes.” You looked away, You didn’t like going back to this memory but you told him anyways.

“I tried to stop them but 3 ships was there. I couldn’t do anything, so I swam away as fast as I can. And that’s how I got here” you confessed to him.

It was silence for a few moments but then he apologized “I’m sorry that happened, but hey! You got me now” he says with a smile, picking the mood back up. you laughed, You Can Finally trust him.

But that thought quickly goes away, you hear the familiar sounds of a pirate ship. Your smile dropped. There was multiple, he lied to you.

His eyes widened in horror as your widened as well. You back away from him, looking at him with disgust and betrayal. You turn around to the ships and you noticed that they are aiming their pistols at you, their cannons as well.

He desperately pleads that he didn’t do this, that he didn’t know but you glared at him. You’re in disbelief that you actually gave him the benefit of the doubt and trust him.

As much as you want to attack him, You safety matters first. So you swim away deep in the water as Miguel watches, as he hears his name being called from the people above.

A/N2: im so sorry this took so long

[badchoicesworld]

Heyyyy I really love ur writing! And also kind of ur vibe as a person 😳 but anyway!

Since you said we can be specific, I wanted to ask about Hobie getting a just a little bit flustered when receiving genuine heartfelt compliments and affection through words bc it catches him off guard. He'd also find the reader a bit naive at first only to find out that they're actually incredibly cunning and calculated. They just come across as naive bc they're so ridiculously sweet once they trust someone :3 (and it always looks like they trust quickly bc they have insane psychoanalytic abilities but now I'm rambling;;; (⁠´⁠⊙⁠ω⁠⊙⁠`⁠)! )

Hope this isn't too much ^^"

hobie realises you’re not as naive as he thought

hobie brown x gn!reader

omggg 😳 tyy anonnnn you got me blushing n shit 🤭 but no fr, ty that’s so sweet lmao <33 and no, this was perfect, ily

warnings: none

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

requests: masterlist plz

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

on first inspection, to hobie, you appear to be this person that trusts way too easily and immediately treats people way too kind for a person you just met- you seem clueless and completely naive when it comes to putting your trust in others since you’re so quick to do it

hobie doesn’t think it’s a bad trait at all to be inherently kind, but when you’re kind to literally everyone you immediately deem trustworthy, it’s like you’re looking to get hurt

he might occasionally have one of his rants to you about the ins and outs of the “real world”, propaganda that surrounds you, distracting you from the truth, the sharks at the top of it all, the people that would take advantage of you

there’s no ill intent, he just really thinks you’re gonna get hurt like that

and who wants that ?

so yeah, anyway, when he first meets you, he can basically see the switch once you’ve realised he’s trust worthy

you’re the sweetest person ever without prompt, and it admittedly looks like nativity to him at first

but because you now trust him, it means you’ll be a sweetheart to him

at first, it’s small compliments that he can appreciate- maybe something about his style or rebellious attitude that he’s heard all before

but you suddenly amp it up for no reason one day and it just completely turns the tides

if you’re aware of his secret identity, you change his perception of you completely when you basically soul read him

you manage to craft the most heartfelt, genuine, sincere acknowledgement of the sacrifices he’s made, along with genuine thanks and somehow stating the closest interpretation of his emotions that he’s ever heard before. from someone that isn’t him, anyway

hell, you’ve maybe even just helped him realise a few things about himself

he’s fucking gobsmacked

he stares at you as if you’ve just said the most outrageous but enlightening thing ever to be uttered

slack jawed, eyes wide, completely silenced for a solid while

he’s eventually able to process wtf you just said to him, and now he’s just trying to play it off with a really goofy grin that doesn’t hide he’s flustered

hobie’s doing all sorts with his hands to try distract the both of you- gestures while he tried to defend the little of his pride he has left, holding the back of his neck, maybe nudging you or shaking your whole frame

he gets the faintest idea that you might be just a little less naive than he though, but not entirely

that might have just been a lucky guess, after all

you’re definitely smarter in his eyes, though

depending on your status, if you’re a spider-person, from a different dimension, from his dimension- it doesn’t matter, he’s intrigued by you now

might brag a bit or be like “can you believe this?” when he sees you soul reading someone else

now there’s been multiple times throughout your guys’ friendship where you manage to slap him with some ungodly wisdom relating to him out of absolutely nowhere, and it never fails to catch him off guard

of course, hobie’s effortlessly cool, so being caught off guard is gonna keep making him feel a little vulnerable and flustered

especially when you just casually do one of the most in depth psychoanalysis of him ever for like the third time this week

he’s starting to think that you know something the rest of the multiverse doesn’t, how do you do that ?

“alright, alright! allow it, man, allow it.”

he’s laughing, but he’s also questioning where you stand in the world, are you secret intelligence ? tf is goin on

if you weaponise this ability to read people like an open book, then he can have fun with it

now it’s funny

especially if you guys are spider-people together and he just casually points out a villain you’ve been assigned to, with a look that says “ruin them”

this can also happen to random people on the street

it’s like how he can completely destroy peoples perception and faith in the establishment n all that, if you so choose, you can really make people feel seen or completely vulnerable or called out

after these encounters with bad people, he realises something about you

you’re somehow able to just know who to trust, and your guts never wrong

he wonders if it’s your spider-sense at first, if you have that

now he’s starting to piece everything together

you can easily distinguish between the good and bad people- the good you immediately trust and treat like an old friend

the bad, you never give the time of day

you’re always so quick to trust, and naive

but it’s starting to become clear to hobie that this isn’t nativity, you just have an uncanny ability to know people before they even introduce themselves

it’s kind of reassuring in a way, if he’s ever doubtful about someone, he’ll go to you and be like “thoughts?” then you can relay this insanely detailed psychoanalysis of this person you’ve just met

now he sees you as this incredibly insightful person, a lovely individual who has the potential to ruin lives with your insane ability to call people out

bonus:

if you guys are spider-people together, you’re both pretty well known for running your mouths

you instil fear

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

as always, lemme know if this ate or not and i’ll try my best to fix it !

[whalesforhands]

Hi!<33 hope your having a great day!<33 let me just say that I love your geto x reader x Gojo x Shoko stories! They're so funny and sweet! I just love how you write them and their dynamique with the reader! And once I started reading the series I couldn't stop imagining the trio finding out one day after she didn't attend class that poor reader is sick! 🥺 How wold they take of her? (I can't stop imagining Geto and Gojo arguing with eachother while Shoko snuggles with reader and feeds her soup 😂)

Anyway if you don't want to do this ask that's fine! ☺️ Lots of kisses and continue the good work! 💕 (If I mispelled something wrong sorry! English's not my first language)

in sickness and in health (geto x reader x gojo, shoko x reader)

this is totally not just me trying to tide you all over because the main series is taking a long time to write

masterlist

warnings: sick ppl are gross, wear masks, wash ur hands, celsius is used instead of Fahrenheit bcs i say so

You should’ve heeded your body’s warnings to you. Laying in your bed, thermometer sticking out of your mouth as the fever relief patch on your forehead sticks despite your sweat slick self.

Hearing the beeping, you eyes glazed over as you pulled the instrument out, saliva feeling repulsively thick as you stared at the thermometer screen, your breaths short and your pajamas feeling abnormally warm, sticky and gross.

39.4 °C.

You’re absolutely burning up. You shouldn’t have gone with that plan. You knew. You knew, yet you still did it anyway.

“Just get on!” His arm is waving at you from afar, his white button up billowing in the summer breeze.

“Come on, trust us!”

“Plus!” He smacks a smiling Suguru’s shoulder. “Suguru doesn’t skip leg day!”

You should’ve never trusted him. You and Shoko both. Not when he had all 4 of you squeeze onto that bicycle.

“WAHAHAHAH!” Gojo was hysterical as he laughed at your three river-soaked forms. Laughing merrily at his dry and perfectly put-together state from using Infinity to save himself.

“You all look terrible! AHAHAHAHA!” He’s pulling out his phone to snap a quick selfie shots. You’re helping Shoko, shifting a lock of her wet hair away from her face to reveal her grumpy expression.

“Come here.” She beckons you closer, a sweet smile, dripping with anger on her face as her hand moves to tuck your wet hair behind your ear.

Suguru grunts as he looks towards his significant other’s camera, eyes flittering to both you and Shoko sharing secrets as she cups a hand over your ear. You’re both fine. That’s a relief.

His eyes focus back on his still cackling boyfriend. His brown eyes darken with a thirst for payback. “Satoru~, help me out why don’tcha?” A chirp sweetened with an affectionate tone, a benevolent smile bestowed as he holds an amicable hand out, waiting to be helped up as he sits in the water, drenched to the very bone as his now translucent shirt begins to stick to his skin.

You hear Gojo snort in retort, waving off the black-haired sorcerer. “Ya think I’m gonna fall for that? Try harder, babe.” He’s very obviously eyeing the now more exposed Geto, before his eyes met yours. Prepared. Ready.

Shoko is done, her gaze surreptitiously meets Suguru’s own.

“Satoru…” Your watery eyes and helpless expression meets his, a tremble pairing your frowning lips and gem-like eyes shining with your feeble tears.

“Are you not going to help me…?”

Hook, line and sinker.

“L-look, it w-wasn’t on purpose,” He’s gulping as he starts to trek into the water, his shoes getting soaked. Infinity has been forgotten. “I only wanted to-!”

He’s tackled back by 3 weights, all landing on top of him as they start to laugh and splash water onto his still surprised form.

You’re nauseous, head on your far-too-warm pillow as you smile slightly at the memory. Okay. Maybe it was worth it. Just a little.

(You do feel a little better.)

You feel another wave of queasiness hit you once again, your hand over your mouth as you gag, yesterday’s dinner threatening to crawl up your oesophagus and cover your freshly changed sheets with bile.

Oh.

You’ll have to send Shoko a text. You hope she doesn’t mind being disturbed when class has only just begun 2 minutes ago…

——

Insistent knocks at your door wake you into consciousness, your eyes snapping open and trying to clear your cloudy sight.

“C-come in!” Your voice is rough, a consequence that occurred after throwing your guts out in the bathroom. Your stomach hurts, the acid eating at its inner lining as it growls for food.

You haven’t eaten. You probably smell bad. You look horrible.

“A-actually- P-Please don’t come-!” Too late. Your room’s been intruded by 3 individuals.

“Your favourite nurses are here to soothe you back to health!”

You internally groan at the boisterous loud voice. Shoko had told all of them.

——

You see a disgruntled Satoru, cheeks puffed up as he marches into your room with a just as displeased Shoko crossing her arms and pouting.

They’ve been kicked out of the kitchen by a fed up Suguru.

“What do you mean we can’t just buy her instant porridge from the convenience store? It’s instant!” Gojo waves a whisk around as he dons the frilly pink apron, head on Geto’s shoulder and leaning onto him.

Suguru wants to smack someone. He holds himself back as he washes the rice, despite the disturbance, sleeves pulled up to his elbows as he swirls the water within the pot.

It’s for you. It’s for you. It’s for you. It’s for-

��Because it’s not healthy-“ His anger becomes slow irritation as he feels a vein pop when he sees Shoko poking the sweet potato with a pair of scissors.

“Both of you.” His smile is menacing as his aura overtakes the room.

“Get out.”

That’s why both of them were here now, fluffing your pillow, wiping your head with a cold cloth.

“Do you want to change clothes?” You hear Shoko whisper, her voice lulling and pacifying your senses as Satoru does his one task of continuously dabbing your head with a warm cloth.

(He was making a mess of everything else. Shoko delegated him to cloth duty.)

You can only muster a nod. Your clothing is uncomfortable, and she must’ve noticed.

(“Gojo.” She smiles at him as she caresses your warm face. “Get out.”

“Again?!”)

——

She’s helping you out of your clothing, your front slumping into her shoulder as she undid the buttons of your pajamas, the washcloth dragging gently across your damp skin.

Your guilt is starting to kick in.

“I’m-“ Your voice is starting to die. “I’m sorry for being such…” You suck in a breath through your sick haze. It’s hard to breathe. “A burden.” You do. You’re so weak. So useless.

Getting this sick over a culmination of your own horrible habits. Not eating enough, not sleeping enough, not getting enough liquids in during the day… Not taking care of yourself.

You did this to yourself, yet they have to clean up after you. They, who had their lives put together, their own lives to live. Yet, they’re wasting time caring about you.

Do they think you’re doing this only for their attention too? You’re not surprised if they ar-

“Don’t be sorry for things that you’re not at fault for.” Her tone is dismissive but firm. “We’re here because we want to be. Stop being such a downer.”

A pat to your cheek despite the blunt words. A reality to your delusion.

She cares. They care. Deeply.

You could almost cry at her genuity. Scratch that, you already are.

You hide your face away into her shoulder, tears starting to gather.

“…thank you.”

(“It’s not fair that you had to kick me out to do that! I could’ve done it too!”

“Pervert.”)

——

“Aaa…” You’re opening your mouth just as Gojo flies another ‘aircraft’ into it.

(You’re embarrassed. He wouldn’t give it to you any other way. Or normally.)

“Good girl!” He’s ruffling your hair, grin stretched wide across his lips in pure elation as he feeds you.

“Just a few more bites then you can take your medicine!”

You swallow down the piping hot rice porridge that Satoru personally blew on to cool down, the lingering ginger and chives leaving a pleasant aftertaste in your mouth.

“Is… Did you get the syrup version…?” You stare, afraid as you see Suguru holding a tray with the familiar dark liquid and brand, coupled with a tall glass of water.

Satoru’s sunglasses suddenly glint. “Is someone scared of a little medicine?~”

——

Suguru presses the spoon against your trembling lips as you hesitantly part them, allowing the disgusting liquid to run down your throat as he immediately hands you the water.

Your face is grimacing in disgust, in pain and revulsion as you hold the water in your mouth, struggling to swallow down the vile substance.

(You eventually do when Suguru lightly places a hand on your shoulder, relaxing you.)

Applause reverberates throughout your room.

“Congrats!”

“Good job.”

“See? I knew you could do it.”

“…are you all making fun of me?”

masterlist

Notes:

Geto would’ve been the one feeding you, but he saw how dejected Gojo was at not really being able to ‘care’ for you other than being the errand boy sent out to buy the cold medicine.

You drank that medicine after you were promised crepe cake from that nearby bakery.

Shoko was the one who brought up that compromise.

The trio actually wanted to leave the lesson immediately after Shoko got your text. Yaga denied them, but he let them off early on purpose.

Yaga visited your dorm when all 4 of you were in it, coming in to check on you.

He hopes none of 3 get sick from spending so much time with you. Especially with how they basically fell asleep around your bed.

“Kids.” He mumbled, throwing blankets around all of them before he turned the lights off, gently shutting your door.

[luveline]

can you do something about dad!james? (sorry the bad english) <3

thank u for ur request, and there's no need for an apology. your English is great and if it weren't it wouldn't matter! also this is kind of long ♡ mom!reader

"Daddy," your daughter says seriously.

James swallows his mouthful of scorching coffee very quickly and winces as he asks, "What, shortcake?"

She stirs her cereal shyly. It's an adorable display but certainly not one that spells good tidings.

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

She looks at him for a moment. Tall enough to do it by herself but small enough to make it look like hard work, she climbs off of her chair, little feet sliding over the laminate kitchen floor because of her school tights.

She rounds the table and holds up her arms.

James spreads his legs and pulls her up onto one of his thighs, her body so light it makes him side eye her breakfast. He holds her waist tight and leans over retrieve her cereal.

"Gotta eat, baby," he says. "You can sit in my lap but you have to eat your food."

She shakes her head. "I need to ask something."

"Ask away."

She looks more like him than you, but you're there. Maybe in the ways that she talks, her endearingness, her precious smile. "How did you meet mammy?"

He grins. He hadn't realised he'd get to tell this story so soon. "It's a long one. Why do you wanna know?"

"Did you meet her in school?"

His grin slips. "Have you met someone?"

She plays with his button down and doesn't say anything until suddenly she's sniffling. James frowns, brow lowered in concern. He can't stand it when his girls cry.

"It's okay," he says gently. "Has someone hurt your feelings?"

She shakes her head and buries it in his chest. James feels his eyes widen of their own accord as he cuddles her close. He's still looking stricken when you emerge, her lost school bag in hand.

"It was under our bed, Jamie, if you can believe it- Oh. What's wrong?" you ask worriedly.

He pats your daughters trembling shoulders. "I'm not sure," he admits.

You come to stand by him, resting your weight with an arm over his shoulder and dropping a hand onto her head. "Baby," you croon, "what's the matter?"

It takes a lot of petting and coaxing. James knows she's going to be late for school but he can't find it in himself to care – her crying seems so different to a tantrum or funny five minutes. It feels real, and embarrassed.

"Tell daddy what's wrong," he says unhappily, kissing her small forehead.

She finally spills. "What if I don't find a dad?" she asks.

You laugh and then clap a hand over your mouth. He glares at you urgently, though he's confused himself.

"Sweetheart, you already have a dad. I'm your dad."

"But your mam's."

He feels the cogs turn slow. You understand much more quickly.

"You mean, a boyfriend?" you ask softly.

She splits like an egg. "I asked Jakey K to be my boyfriend and he said- he said no." Her voice cracks awfully between words, a terrible desperation as kids tend to embody.

James didn't realise that his daughter had already experienced her first heart break. His heart breaks for her in turn, unsure of what to say as she keens into his chest. He pats her back in a nervous staccato and turns to you for help.

"It's okay. It's okay. Will you tell us more about it?" you ask, similarly nonplussed.

She sniffs and slowly manages a nod. When she talks, it's with the suffering of a full blown adult.

"I liked Jakey K to be my boyfriend because I- I- I liked his spiderman 'brella and he let me use it when it was raining and I thought he loved me because that's what daddy does for you," she explains morosely.

"I'll buy you an umbrella," James says, blinded by her tiny heart having been stolen from right under his nose.

You twist one of his curls in a way that can't be called nice and nod seriously at your daughter where she's hiding her teartstained face in James' ruined shirt.

"It's not very nice, when people don't love us back. It really feels like it hurts your tummy."

She turns her face to you.

"But sometimes people want different things, baby. It doesn't mean you aren't smart, or pretty, or funny. Because you're all of those things, and you always will be. Maybe Jakey K just doesn't want to share his umbrella."

She falls into despair again. "But I want to."

"I know. I know." You thumb away her tears and smile as wide as you can. "You want to know a secret?"

"Okay," she says, wobbly.

"Before I met daddy, I shared an umbrella with someone else, and he didn't like me like I liked him. So being under the umbrella didn't work. We couldn't share, we couldn't pick what umbrella we liked. But now I have daddy and it's easy."

She looks confused. James is a smidge confused too — you don't share the umbrella. He holds it over your head and always gets his left shoulder wet.

You nibble you lip. "I met your dad and it's like, our umbrella has spiderman and princess polly on it."

Again, it flies over James' head. She seems to understand what you meant this time, as her expression clears and her frown slowly slackens.

"Okay," she says.

It's so sad it makes James want to cry.

"Okay," you say, and kiss both of her damp cheeks. "How about we stay home today? Just until we feel better?"

"Yeah," James says quickly, involving himself before you can send him off to work and have the day all to yourself.

You don't roll your eyes as you thought he would. You stroke his cheek with the back of your hand and grin.

"Perfect," you say.

You leave to go ring her school and James jogs his leg, wiping what's left of her tears off her small cheeks.

"You know, me and your mam are here forever, and we love you," he says seriously.

Her hand lands on his bicep and her chin tilts up. The puppy dog eyes are impossible to ignore. "Can I have a spiderman 'brella?"

"Absolutely you can." Who needs a boyfriend?

[imogenleewriter]

Hey I just started following you on ao3 and love your writing I was wondering if you had any fanfiction recommendations for me

For sure! I've given recs before, which you can find here: Favourites / Famous/Non-Famous / A/B/O / WIPs (although most are complete now!) / Recent Read and Loved Recs 2023 Pt 1 /Recent Read and Loved Recs 2023 P2

But let's do a part 3!

Sorted most to least word count. Kept descriptions short because we know how to click on links, and because they're are a lot here so I didn't want to take up too much space with their summaries, and also because I am too lazy to write out my own. But I loved them and that should be enough!

Be There by mission2feelike WC:179k | Rating:M | Misc: Exes to Lovers, Famous/Non-Famous, Kid fic

Face You Fears by SadaVeniren / @sadaveniren WC:92k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Stranger to Lovers, Famous/Non-famous, Kid Fic. (read all tags)

your memory over me by shimmeringevil / @shimmeringevil  WC:64k | Rating:M | Misc: Exes to Lovers, Vacation

its golden, like daylight by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze WC:61k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, College/Uni AU

you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou WC:59k | Rating: E | Misc: Aquantences to Lovers, Neighbours

We Don't Need No Piece of Paper (From the City Clerk) by 2tiedships2 / @2tiedships2 WC:26k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Arranged Marriage

Jealousy, Jealousy by wabadabadaba  WC:26k | Rating: M | Misc: Omegaverse, Alpha/Alpha.

Being of the Jealous Kind by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian WC:24k | Rating:M | Misc: Established Relationship, Famous/Non-famous, Stunt dating

play by the rules by shimmeringevil / @shimmeringevil WC:21k | Rating:M | Misc: Established Relationship, Light BDSM

please don't be in love with someone else by wildestdreams .@thelavendrhaze WC:18k | Rating:M | Misc: Friends to Lovers, Neighbours, College/Uni AU

A Package Deal by alltheselights / @alltheselights WC:18k | Rating:M | Misc: Enemies to Lovers, Hospital AU

Swap me for your shadow by lunarheslwt / @lunarheslwt WC:16k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers

High Tide by Stria (Asia117) / @nooradeservedbetter WC:14k | Rating:M | Misc: Strangers to Lovers, (read the tags)

is ur mother worried? by outropeace / @outropeace WC:12k | Rating: | Misc: Aquaintences to Lovers, College/Uni AU, based on SMAU

You smile all the time ('cause how can you not show it?) by thebreadvan / @thebreadvansstuff WC:9k | Rating:M | Misc: Strangers to Lovers, (read the tags)

Simmer Down and Pucker Up by SilverStuff50 / @silverstuff50 WC:9k | Rating:M | Misc: Exes To Lovers, Wedding

Wearing You Like Clothes by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 WC:6k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Stangers to Lovers

I See Your Colours and I'm Dying of Thirst by taking_sweet_time WC:6k | Rating:M | Misc: Strangers to Lovers, (read the tags)

I Didn't Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) by allwaswell16 / @allwaswell16 WC:4k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Enemies to Lovers, Neighbours

Helping Out by me_her_themoon /@greeneyesfriedrice WC:3k | Rating:M | Misc: Omegaverse, Friends to Lovers, Omega/Omega

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by Neondiamond / @neondiamond WC:2k | Rating:M | Misc: Strangers to Lovers, Coffee Shop AU, Christmas

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #10] Blonde

warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it’s within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!

soundtrack: space - audrey nuna;  blonde - maisie peters

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does. 

It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days - to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts - then leaves just as quickly as he comes.

The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices. 

He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.

The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.

Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.

Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head - again - overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.

When Danbi comes home on Thursday night - three days since Seokjin's last message - she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.

"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.

If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.

Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.

Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.

But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now. 

You shrug as you let the ruby red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.

Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling. 

"I don't know how to, Dan."

"But you do," she insists.

And she's right. Of course you do. 

His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.

Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.

Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.

Never for the night. Just for an hour or two - but for long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.

The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.

And yet he does, each and every time.

He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.

You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.

You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.

It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.

"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.

"Absolutely not - but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."

Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it. 

He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend. 

Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules. 

You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in. 

Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.

He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.

Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes. 

Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.

All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.

It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.

You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.

Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now. 

Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon. 

Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror. 

You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.

"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.

Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."

That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return. 

After all, if you can't go back? 

Go forward.

"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."

"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.

You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare. 

"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.

The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there. 

"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."

"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.

Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.  

The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary. 

You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees Celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.

It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots. 

The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process. 

The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction. 

Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror - lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.

It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jeongguk's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.

Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"

You assume she means Jeongguk, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead. 

"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."

"A glowing review."

"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"

Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"

"Fuck knows."

It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you. 

And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.

The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.

Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.

But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening. 

Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does. 

If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?

You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him. 

Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.

It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now. 

You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit - and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet. 

See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.

Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.

One day you'll glow. Glow for real. 

For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin. 

All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.

There is, however, one person you've managed to fool. 

When his story pops up - a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus - you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel. 

It's a simple message - hey - and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.

JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?

You decided that 'I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead' probably won't be Jeongguk's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.

You: Just wondering how the kids are <3

Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jeongguk. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.

JustJK:  Missing their mother. 

JustJK:  Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.

JustJK:  Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.

JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3

With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom. 

You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.

You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks </3

There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.

JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.

JustJK:  You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.

JustJK:  Haven't even paid them a visit!!!

Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.

You:  You've got full custody!!!

JustJK:  And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!

JustJK:  smh and to think you call yourself their mother.

JustJK: I'm their mother now.

You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'. 

You:  They need me :(

JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.

You:  Tomorrow?

He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.

Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.

JustJK:  I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party - you coming?

You:  Will Perry the Pigeon be there?

JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.

It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says. 

It's actually quite quiet at the club - Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jeongguk's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again. 

Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jeongguk's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.

Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jeongguk reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that - after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.

Jeongguk's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this. 

For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.

Jeongguk trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.

And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.

You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs - and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.

JustJK:  Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.

You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.

JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.

JustJK:  I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.

Jeongguk doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered. 

Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.

But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.

You're laughing as you send it.

And as he receives it, Jeongguk groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines. 

"Don't fuck this up, Jeongguk."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT