#i mean half aka most of his face is done

[synthetickitsune]

Milk Swirls Of Destiny ✧ y.jh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x reader (gn) Genre: coffee shop au, fluff Summary: Yoon Jeonghan is mildly inconvenient at best and infuriating at worst. He's somehow the worst and the best coworker you have. Definitely the most annoying. Word count: 6.8k Warnings: food mentions A/N: he just lives rent free and his pretty best friend too and @hanniedream is holding me hostage in brainrot (aka being my partner in crime and emotional support and muse here) [series masterlist] [next chapter - wip]

“Aaaah… I see now. Hm…” Jeonghan swirls the cup slightly, a look of concentration on his face.

“What- what is it?” the girl standing on the other side of the counter stumbles over her words. She’s looking at him with bated breath. Her hands are clasped together as if she was praying. As if she was looking at something holy. You scoff quietly and roll your eyes once you turn your back towards them. Like there’s not enough work to do.

“Look here,” Jeonghan says and points to the squiggly line where he messed up the milk pour for a flower design. His face is the mask of seriousness. “See the waves? Clear sign of turbulent times ahead. But it smooths out eventually - it looks a bit like a star here, see?”

No. No, it doesn’t.

“-That means you’ll succeed. Just hang in there.”

The girl seems on the verge of tears as she takes the cup from Jeonghan, clutching it with both hands as she thanks him relentlessly. It’s only after a couple minutes that she finally walks off with what has to be a cold and disgusting latte. 

You understand trying to predict the future from coffee grounds, tea leaves, whatever, but to do so from a milk pour in a latte made by a barista who couldn’t pour a heart if his life depended on it? 

“You’ll scare off the customers with that sour face,” Jeonghan nudges your ribs with his elbow once he comes stand next to you and finally starts helping you with the backed up orders.

“Yeah, and the thin ice you’re dancing on will break under you one day when the customers start complaining about their coffee being cold by the time you’re done with your little fortune teller charade,” you snap back. He snickers.

“Someone’s grumpy,” he hums, “I’m here now, we’ll have these done in no time.”

You’d like to believe him. You really would. But you’re annoyed and you know it’s only a matter of time before he runs off again.

It’s not his fault that the new guy called in sick last minute. The boss knows that it’s better to have at least one more person behind the counter whenever Jeonghan is working - partly because he’s busy with his fortune telling side hustle and partly because he brings in a lot of customers. A lot of customers. And without fail all of them become annoyingly obsessed with him, it’s only a matter of time. It’s fine as long as they only come in and stare at him, it’s the ones who have to have their coffee made by him and have him read their fortunes. Like he’s not just making shit up. You’d swear you saw some fan pages dedicated to him online. 

You guess the traffic he brings to the cafe is the only reason the boss is okay with him doing his thing and leaving the rest of you to struggle.

For now though, you work efficiently and neatly together. Working with Jeonghan, when he is doing his actual job, is always smooth. You don’t need to talk to get the orders to the waiting customers fast. At times like these you only have half a mind to cringe at the winks and apologetic smiles he sends to his flock of lovesick fans. Sometimes you want to tell him he’d get even more tips - like he’s not already getting a ridiculous amount - if he let his fingers brush against theirs, but whenever you open your mouth to do it, you can’t. Your stomach twists when the words make it to the tip of your tongue. It must be because you couldn’t witness that without gagging.

“See? We’re doing so well,” he hums proudly, and you fully intend to give him a genuine smile back. You really do. That is until you see the customer he’s handing the cup to. He frowns a little at the way your face falls and your lack of reaction. Before he can say anything, though, the girl squeals: “You’re the one who can read the future, right?”

It honestly looks like she’s meeting an idol. To be fair, Jeonghan has all the predispositions to be one and has the professionalism to match. You’d think the flustered but excited smile he gives the girl is genuine if you didn’t know any better. He always gives them conspicuous smiles like his role is a secret between the two of them. Like he feels seen by them. You sigh, your smile purely professional while you hand the glass to the other customer and simply motion towards the straws and sugar packets. And then you rush to work on the next drink.

Jeonghan breaks character for just a second to give you an apologetic smile - which you pointedly ignore. You’re too busy. Just one scan of the growing line and pool of waiting customers is enough to tell you Jeonghan won’t be helping you any time soon.

And eventually, any time soon turns into well after rush hour, with the most dedicated - and delusional - fans forming a line of their own just to get the most useless fortune reading of their lines. 

It’s honestly admirable in its own way that he acts with the same dedication with all of them, no matter how many there are. Right now though, you finally get to sit down and can’t be bothered to try and think anything good about him. You feel abandoned. Betrayed.

You know you’re the one being dramatic now, but you can’t help it. Your social battery is drained. 

You didn’t even get to go on lunch break - you couldn’t leave the other newcomer, Chan, there alone. No way he could handle both taking and making the orders. He hasn’t even been properly trained for that yet. And it feels like Jeonghan slacked off the whole time. Honestly you had no idea how this could be profitable for the owner but hey, it’s her business and not yours.

You’re still sulking when you finally take off the apron and your work shoes. Even walking to the station and walking home doesn’t seem appealing right now, but you really need a nap. And a nice warm meal. Still, you can’t find the energy or will to pack your stuff, so you’re just zoning out for a couple minutes. Which turns out to be a mistake.

The door flies open to reveal a disheveled Jeonghan. His hair is a mess, like he’s been the one getting through the rush. Once he sees you, however, he breathes out seemingly in relief and smoothes down his birdnest of a hair with his free hand. In the other he’s holding a cup of something iced. 

“I thought I didn’t make it,” he smiles at you, carefully coming closer. You heave a long and exhausted sigh.

“Leaving all the work to the others again?” you say, and although you try to sound unbothered, there’s a bitter edge to your voice. He frowns a little, turning his head towards the door for a second.

“I made sure no one was there when I left,” he shifts his weight, “And I just wanted to bring you this. As a thank you and a sorry.”

He offers you the cup in his hand and you take it. Or you’d like to before he steps a little closer and his eyes fill with that mischief you’re so used to seeing during his interactions with the customers.

Not this again…

“If you look here,” his finger draws a swirl above the transparent lid, “See how it looks like those curls want to tie together? A clear sign someone’s trying to court you. And they must be close.”

While he explains, Jeonghan keeps his eyes on the coffee but once he’s finished he looks at you. His gaze is so hopeful, so so hopeful, and you remember it working on you the first couple tries. It gets old after a while, though.

“Yeah, thanks for the coffee,” you shut down his efforts and take the cup from him, “For what it’s worth, I’d prefer for someone to have my back when it’s busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan blurts out. He frowns again when he sees how resigned you look, licking his lips uncertainly. “I’m sorry I made you do all the work. I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t. Like you didn’t mean to on Monday, or last week, or literally any other day we were short on people,” you roll your eyes. Finally you get the motivation to take your things from the locker and leave. 

“Arguably, the cafe being short staffed is the issue here,” he says almost sheepishly - and visibly regrets it the moment you scoff and set the coffee down to cross your arms on your chest. “What?”

“‘Being short staffed is the problem’ yeah - yeah you can argue that and lose the fucking argument because we only need the extra person because you’re no fucking help,” you snap at him, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slamming the locker shut after hurriedly throwing things in. Jeonghan opens and closes his mouth, the corners of his mouth downturned and eyes wide. “Goodbye Jeonghan. See you Friday.”

You push past him and leave, waving at the poor cashier left stuck here with him. 

Jeonghan looks after you until the door closes and the loud noise makes him jump. He looks at the cup left behind, dripping water on the bench. He groans, sitting down with his head in his hands. He rubs his face, knowing he shouldn’t linger here. You might be gone, but his chest feels tight anyway. Now more than ever, like he’s just proving you right by wasting his time here where he is of no help to anyone.

He picks up the cup sadly and takes a small sip. It’s the best one he made, it shouldn’t go to waste. It’s just the way you like it, your favorite he thinks, yet it doesn’t make him feel any better or like you’re still here with him. 

When he returns to the front, a customer has just finished ordering - an older man, and Jeonghan immediately proceeds to prepare the order. His mind is blank but his heart feels heavy. You didn’t even taste the drink…

“Did you seriously just disappear to the back to drink your coffee?” Chan whisper-yells at him after he hands the order to the customer. Jeonghan is about to argue but then he realizes how pathetic he’d sound and just laughs.

“Eyy, I returned just in time, didn’t I?” he bumps his hip against the newbie’s. 

“Dude, you’re just flirting the whole day. Me and y/n did all the hard work, do you really think you’re the one who deserves a coffee break?” his coworker sighs and takes a rag to wipe down the counter. His smile falls immediately and suddenly it’s hard to swallow.

Way to go, Yoon Jeonghan…

Although you don’t work with Jeonghan again until today, you can’t say you feel any better. It’s not like you hate the job - actually you quite like it. The pay’s decent, the boss is fine for the most part, and your coworkers are all nice people too. At the same time you’d lie if you said you wouldn’t rather stay home and sleep and that your stomach doesn’t feel uncomfortably nauseated just thinking of another shift with Jeonghan. Your only hope is that it’s Friday and those usually aren’t as busy in the area. And it’s your last shift for the week. You can do this.

You wash your face and pray. There’s not much else you can do.

The least you can do is to use your limited control over the situation to take the last possible bus so that you make it in time. So you do. Every minute of peace counts. And although it does make you anxious to imagine being late, it’s not like you come late regularly - you never did, actually. So not a big deal. Maybe it’d show Jeonghan what it feels like to be all on his own.

For a while longer, you let the world fade into the background with music blasting in your headphones. It’s easier to ignore people if you can’t hear them. You push it, only giving Chan and Joshua behind the counter a friendly wave to greet them while you pass them. 

You push it further, opening the door to the staff room. You keep the music on until the last moment, until you open your locker and pull out your shoes and stuff your things in, and then you have no choice but to turn the music off and return to reality.

The first sound to reach your ears is annoying high-pitched whining complemented by a fluff of blond hair buzzing around you.

“You’re so mean,” Jeonghan complains, “Are you ignoring everyone today or just me?”

The temptation to just keep your mouth shut is so strong but you never learn. You still have hope that today will be better. And then you’ll need to get along with him. You’re closing the place together too…

Luck seems to be on your side for now, however, and lets you keep him waiting without any need for an excuse.

“My condolences, y/n. He’s so annoying today - he kept bugging us at the front before you came,” your savior, Joshua, declares right as he comes in and heads for his locker.

“Hey-”

“Are you leaving Chan there alone?” you quirk a brow at the newcomer while you change your shoes and throw on a fresh apron. It’s mostly just an excuse to ignore Jeonghan for a bit longer. But also it’s not like Joshua to skirt his duties.

“He can handle himself for five minutes,” he shrugs, “He’s a quick learner and it’s basically empty.”

You hum and snicker, “So was Vernon and you know how that went.”

Joshua shakes his head with a laugh while Jeonghan, very much cosplaying a fluffy and persistent bee, hovers closer to you at the edge of your vision.

This is a conversation he could join in but he doesn’t want to join in on a conversation you have with Joshua - he wants to talk to you! Alone! 

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking out?” Jeonghan snorts in the direction of the other man. Joshua smirks, leaning against the lockers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking in? I bet there’s already a line waiting for you,” the other never backs down from whatever Jeonghan throws his way. It’s impressive. It’s what he likes about the guy. It’s a challenge and he enjoys one. Even now, he’d bite back - oh, he would. But from the corner of his eyes he can see how your face falls just a little.

“Well, they can all wait because first, I’m gonna do a very exclusive reading for our dear y/n here,” he can’t let you see him weak and he can’t lose, and by changing the direction, he’s definitely not-

“Nah, thanks, I’d rather Shua does it,” you smile at the other man.

Now it’s turn for Jeonghan’s face to fall. Not like you will notice.

(It feels like a dagger to the back. The boss had this big idea of having more people on rotation for those readings, and with his acting skills and similarly mischievous personality as well as good looks, Joshua was the obvious choice. Jeonghan poured his heart into teaching him. Their back and forths were on another level, Joshua truly was the perfect student and the only one who could possibly match Jeonghan’s skill. Unfortunately, Joshua is also fucking crazy and his readings were anything but the wholesome, uplifting messages meant to comfort and heal that Jeonghan is trying to hand out. So in the end, Jeonghan alone is the chosen one.)

Joshua laughs back, throwing out a casual “anytime” that makes Jeonghan gag.

“y/n,” he whines, propping his chin on your shoulder - and he knows it’s just the surprise that stops you from immediately shrugging him off but whatever - “But he’ll just tell you you’re gonna grow a third eye or something. I’ll give you the truth.”

“If I had a third eye, I’d be able to see when we’ll get busy so I can, I don’t know, slip and break my leg and go home,” you roll your eyes and now you shrug him off and he pursues his lips more. 

Is it really that bad?

“We’d miss you here, you’re one of the good ones,” Joshua smirks at you and checks his watch, “Time to go! Good luck, both of you.”

Jeonghan hears you grumble something along the lines of ‘like he needs it’ way too clearly. He lets you walk in front of him, so he can sigh without you noticing. Joshua pats his shoulder while he passes him and gives him a kind smile. He hates how easy it is to like the guy.

Fortunately the cafe remains virtually empty when you come out, so you greet Chan again but with a genuine smile for a change. He seems to notice and beams at you too.

“Shua said you did well today,” you hum, trying to warm up to the newest addition to the team. Safe for the dude who’s still sick and you haven’t seen before. You don’t even remember his name.

“You know Shua, he’s just kind,” Chan dismisses, but there’s a happy sparkle in his eyes. One that is very much missing in Jeonghan’s - a fact which goes unnoticed.

He goes through the motions of cleaning the counter even though it’s sparkling clean. He refills the beans even though the container is full. He checks the labels and everything is in order…

“What’s up with him?” the cashier nods towards him. You shrug.

To be fair, Jeonghan works hard. Usually he’s pretty cheerful too, but now he’s just a lifeless husk and you wonder if it has anything to do with you basically ignoring him. Maybe you were too harsh on him when he was just being friendly.

“Anything needs a refill? Do we need anything from the back?” you slide closer to the man in question and take the rag from his hands. He looks surprised but before you can even blink, he’s smiling at you and smirking mischievously.

“Are you hinting I should go get it myself? That’s so mean,” he grumbles. He’s giving you a very convincing kicked puppy look but it’s not like there’s anything he needs to convince you about. Safe for his competency maybe, but that would take much more than him acting cute.

“I’d do it myself. This is just me giving you a chance to pull your stuff out.”

He grimaces a little, as if he forgot about it. Still he thanks you quietly. This one you can’t blame on him; it was just another of your boss’ bright ideas.   

‘Jeonghan’s stuff’ is really just a cloth, a nice deep shade of purple with golden embroidery of sun and moon and some more astrological motives that he spreads out on the area of the counter where he does the readings. It’s also an assortment of crystal candy handmade by Minghao.

(Minghao is only a part-timer and has the least hours of all of you, and occasionally you somehow go the whole month without seeing him once. You wonder if it has anything to do with the time he needs to make the candies.

They don’t match the cafe’s vibe - they look too luxurious, especially next to the plain looking macarons, roll cakes, cookies and other goodies - but they do fit Jeonghan’s vibe.

They’re delicious too, so you hope that whatever is Minghao’s contract doesn’t change. Although he could give out employee discounts.)

Anyway, Jeonghan’s corner isn’t much, and thank god it’s not flashy, but it’s a little extra something for whenever Jeonghan’s working. You usually notice some of his groupies peeking in through the front window to check if his stuff is out. It’s also a good way to tell if the day will be a good one or not if he’s in.

“Found something we need from the back?” Jeonghan joins you right as you’re finished going through the supplies.

“No, I think we’re good. Shua usually leaves everything ready for the next shift anyway,” you hum, double checking the dates on everything just to be sure. Not that you expect to find anything amiss.

“You’re so nice to him.” You roll your eyes at him before you can stop yourself, which Jeonghan takes a personal offense to. “I always do my best too!”

“Yeah, but Shua is just more reliable,” you shrug. Unswayed by his sulking, you keep working around Jeonghan, who follows you while listing all the nice things he’s ever done for you. You catch Chan watching you from the side and laughing. 

“If you have nothing better to do-”

Just as you’re about to find a task to give to the youngest, the doorbell rings and in walks a pair of friends. Their giggling and badly hushed squeals tell you everything you need to know.

“Better get in the character,” you say, already giving up, and move on to the cake display and check the temperature. The display cooler is new, but after the fiasco that was the last one you want to make sure.

“What do you mean by character?” he puts a hand over his chest. He’s already acting, though. “I just have powers nobody can explain.”

You scoff, almost bumping into him while he keeps shuffling on the floor. He’s just doing it to get on your nerves at this point.

“What the hell?” you hiss at him quietly.

He looks at you for real. The look in his eyes is close to desperate when his gaze flicks towards the girls and then back to you, standing conveniently between them and him. You only laugh a little. It’s ridiculous how dramatic he’s being, and you wonder why he has to be this eccentric all the time.

“Not ‘hell’, they’re powers from a higher good! And I wasn’t kidding yesterday,” he remains serious - whatever his version of serious is anyway, “There’s someone really close to you who’s interested in you.”

You don’t really want to indulge his delusions but since he’s still behaving like a child seeing his least favorite relative and the girls are taking ages ordering, you decide just once won’t hurt.

“Yeah? Tell me more,” you say simply.

At this point he’s basically cornered against the counter and the girls keep looking your way. There’s very few options left how he could cower from them. He seems more focused on you, however, delight written all over his face.

“Literally so close that when you realize you’ll feel so stupid you’ll want to bang your head against a wall.”

“Already do,” you sigh.

You might say that but there’s something charming about the way Jeonghan tenderly holds onto your sleeve, the way his head isn’t buried in your shoulder but you feel his every breath on your skin anyway. He’s careful not to press himself against you and you appreciate that, even though you’re long since you used to people being squeezed together behind the counter on the busier days. His current position makes your work much harder nonetheless. Though you suppose you’re just making yourself look busy at this point.

Not that you’re not grateful to Joshua, but damn, couldn’t he leave at least something for you to do without customers around?

“Yeah? Any guesses who could be your secret admirer?” Jeonghan whispers. The girls are paying already and you have no idea what he's hoping to accomplish. They’ve seen him already when they walked in and they see him now.

Fortunately they sprint over before the silence after his question gets long enough that it’d demand you to answer.

Like somebody flipped a switch in Jeonghan’s brain, he springs us from behind you and greets the girls at his corner, asking them for just a moment to let him work his magic.

You join Chan in Jeonghan-watching while he works after he sends you away to prepare the order himself. Not that unusual, although you’d like to have something to do so that the shift passes quickly. It always pleases the fans, though, and this time too it doesn’t fail to make them swoon over his long fingers, his tongue flicking out to wet his pretty lips, or the bow tied on the small of his back that looks so cute and accentuates his slim waist. It’s always this way. You think you learned what they’re into quite well. And it’s not difficult to see. 

You’re just more used to it now.

“Do you think my training could include some one-on-one with him?” Chan whispers to you, “I mean I have no problem getting a date if I want to-”

“You must be really against dating right now then,” you can’t resist teasing him. You have no idea if he’s dating or not, but you suppose if he wants Jeonghan’s help of all people, he must be desperate. Then you remember he’s just a newbie. He doesn’t know him well yet.

“Hey!” he punches your shoulder lightly, “It’s just- He’s on another level, okay?”

“I guess,” you murmur, “But he’s still as single as us, so he must be a loser beyond getting a number.”

“You think so?” he tilts his head, “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, so you just do you.”

Fridays tend to be slower, what with most of the students from the nearby university preferring a club to a small cafe by the time the end of the week rolls around, but it’s just as well. At least you get to show Chan how to do things properly whenever a learning opportunity comes around and for once it’s Jeonghan who has his hands full with work. So much so that both you and the cashier help - at least when all the customers are waiting to get their coffee and reading.

There’s not much you can do to actually help, but whenever you slide the plated desserts on the counter, ready to be matched with the coffee, prepare the boxes for the takeout orders, or you hand him a cup only waiting for him to mess up the milk, he gives you a grateful smile. You think that when your fingers brush occasionally, he might be doing it on purpose - occasionally here being an understatement, but it doesn’t happen all the time either. Whatever, you suppose that’s his own way of saying thanks. 

Slowly, though, even that crowd starts to thin out. 

Back when he used to work here, Seungkwan would always say that seeing Jeonghan and getting a cake were both a sweet treat for the students coming here on Friday evening. 

You wonder if they’d think of him as sweet if they were forced to work with him and deal with his whining.

It’s not that you want to entertain his quirks when you let him rest his head on your shoulder after the place empties. It’s just for now. And when you pet his hair whenever he sighs deeply, you’re just being a supportive coworker. It’s just that he really did work hard.

Jeonghan’s other shenanigans and the shit he puts whoever is unlucky enough to be on the shift with him through make it easy to forget the effort he puts into what he does. All the talking, making stuff up on the spot, the creativity that requires. You don’t think you could ever match that - especially with your social battery being as faulty as it is. And whenever he can, he insists on preparing the orders entirely by himself - and whenever he abandons you to the rest of the orders, even this is a big help. He never really complains either, his sighs and whining are mostly for attention.

Perhaps you’re too harsh on him sometimes. He doesn’t have it easy, just the same as you. 

“We’re almost done,” you pet his hair one more time and wave goodbye to Chan. For the remaining two hours, it’s gonna be just you and Jeonghan. The man on your shoulder doesn’t bother to lift his head and blindly waves as well.

You look around the cafe, empty safe for a single man at the table in the corner. He looks like he’ll be leaving soon too. It’s a relief, especially after the catastrophe that was your last shift together.

It’s been a while since you last closed with Jeonghan, however, so you can only hope that in the little time you have left he won’t do anything that would sour today’s experience. 

“If we start now, we’ll be finished sooner,” you whisper to him, and finally he raises his head. Over the couple months you learned that nothing motivates him quite like the prospect of going home soon. At least one thing you have in common.

“Do you want to do the clean up here?” Jeonghan suggests, but his tone couldn’t be more hopeful that you’ll say no. You huff and shake your head.

“It’s fine, I’ll just do the lobby and help you out when I’m done,” you grant his wish. Truthfully you don’t really care either way. And at least on lobby duty you get to have some space and walk around.

He thanks you cutely, promising another free reading just for you - which you immediately decline, but you know better than to expect him not to go through with it.

The time you have left passes in a breeze. Barely anyone comes in and when they do, they usually take their coffee to go. Stars really must have aligned for you today. Thus you get to wipe down the tables and the counter, clean the bathroom and sweep the floor before it’s officially closing time. You’re so excited by how lucky you’ve gotten that you don’t mind Jeonghan’s victorious smirk when you automatically take over some of his tasks once the clock strikes the closing time. After all it doesn’t matter that he gets to go home sooner when it’s a win for you too.

Once again you’re amazed by how smoothly you work with him. It’s an effortless flow without the need for words. Sure, the tasks you’re capable of doing on autopilot, but whenever you help out the others, it’s never this simple. 

“Thank you,” Jeonghan smiles at you once everything is done and you join him at the back after checking again that you haven’t forgotten anything. 

“Don’t mention it,” you return the smile and stretch your arms above your head, closing your eyes in bliss. You can’t wait to be home.

“No, I will - I promised, didn’t I?”

You don’t like his tone. You really really really don’t like his tone. Allowing your arms to go limp, you let them hang beside your body. Your eyes stay closed.

“Come on, it’s nothing bad,” his voice softens. Maybe you get why he’s so popular. Or maybe it’s late and you’re tired.

When you open your eyes, there’s a small cup of ice latte being held out to you. You frown but he just chuckles. “I kept it in the fridge.”

“And I was wondering why you were acting so weird,” you sigh but you take the cup - or try to, only he doesn’t let go. “Not again.”

“If you look here,” he dismisses your protests. His fingers are cold against yours. “That line and this line are almost one, see? Your secret admirer is closer than before. You should take your chance.” 

You try not to smile but you do anyway, tired and resigned to your fate. “Anything more?”

“Yeah, actually if you follow this… You’re not listening, are you?” Jeonghan pouts when he realizes that you’re not looking at the coffee at all. He holds your gaze.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this,” you finally manage to slip the cup from his hand. You immediately take a long sip, you need something to get you through the way home. It’s good, great, but that’s no surprise. He might not be trained in latte art, but he makes good coffee.

“What are you going to do about your admirer though?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You give him a long look and note the discrepancy in his body language and his voice. He sounds playful, the upward curl of his lips give off that feeling too, but he seems tense otherwise. His eyes seem nervous. The late hour must be getting to him too.

“Wait,” you shrug, then elaborate when he gives you a confused stare, “I’m not into this kind of game, Jeonghan. If someone likes me, they shouldn’t be hiding it.”

He looks caught off guard, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“That is - if there was a secret admirer. I’m not buying your nonsense,” you push his shoulders and turn to your locker with a satisfied smile to take your things and stuff the rest in. Finally you silenced the great charlatan Yoon.

“Hey, my predictions always come true,” he bounces back quickly, “The customers tell me all the time.”

“You literally tell them the most generic shit,” you roll your eyes, shutting your locker, “Look, it was really nice today, so let’s not fight.”

He opens his mouth with, displeasure tugging at his lips. There’s a moment of tense silence before he eventually settles on a short dramatic monologue about never being taken seriously by close minded people like you. You watch him while you sip the coffee and check your watch. There’s enough time before your bus comes and now that your last shift of the week is over, you feel relaxed enough not to mind his company.

You make sure to lock up the place and have Jeonghan check that it’s actually locked. Just to be sure, despite the teasing that follows. There’s no malice in his voice, if anything he looks fond and nudges you with his elbow, reassuring you that he only finds it cute.

Sipping on the coffee while you walk, you enjoy how peaceful the night is. The street is empty, safe for the two of you, but you know it’s not gonna be that way once you reach the main road. For now, though, you actually feel quite comfortable chatting with Jeonghan. He's good company when he’s not infuriating.

“So anyway, I won them the whole game,” Jeonghan finishes boasting about his recent outing with Joshua and the new guy you have yet to meet - apparently he’s called Jun and is hopeless at basketball.

“Sure you did,” you snicker. Just to see him whine and try to persuade you he’s not lying. Although unexpectedly you have to admit that seeing him act out some complicated moves without the ball is both amusing and strangely impressive. He never striked you as someone as athletic as he seems to be. 

“Alright, alright, I believe you. Don’t hurt yourself, you’re working the weekend, aren’t you?” you laugh, holding him by the elbow to stop him from more demonstrations. 

“Yeah, jealous hm?” he frees his arm from your hold and throws it around your shoulders. You scoff and shrug him off. 

“Not really, the older I get the more I value my free time over money,” you push him away when he moves too close again. He just laughs at the annoyed glare you give him.

“You know I think your secret admirer is tied to the cafe, so maybe you should come in. Make sure there’s someone to grow old with you,” he hums thoughtfully, but the look in his eyes lets you know he actually means the suggestion.

“No thanks, I’ll be happy not to see the place for a few days,” you wave him off. The ice clashes together as you shake the almost empty cup. Just in time. The main street is already in sight and with it, the bus stop too. Only a few minutes now and you’ll be on your way home, spacing out with your music. “Also you’re more obsessed with this idea of a secret admirer than me. Maybe you should confront one of yours.”

“What do you mean?” he stops walking suddenly. You stop too, your brows furrow on their own. He looks the most serious you’ve ever seen him. Actually serious.

“Your army of fans, duh,” you shrug, keeping your tone playful to hopefully lighten the atmosphere, “I bet every single one of them is in love with you. They’re not exactly discreet.”

He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath, then exhales just as slowly. If it wasn’t him, if you didn’t know him as well as you think you know him, you’d be scared. Even so you watch him warily.

“I don’t care about them,” he says plainly, “It’s fun for the job, but I don’t care about anything beyond that.”

You swallow uneasily, watching him stare at you with an unreadable expression.

“I was just kidding. I’m sorry,” you apologize. He must notice how uncomfortable you feel because he runs a hand through his hair and gives you a small smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he catches up with you, “I just take my magic very seriously.”

You burst out. You’ve had people call latte art magic. Never the fuck ups. At least Jeonghan seems relieved to see you laugh too and you can continue the walk comfortably again.

For someone who spent the day making shit up, he has enough inspiration to keep going. By the time you reach the stop and the bus comes into view, you have tears in your eyes as Jeonghan keeps exaggerating and telling you, very seriously, about the inner workings of his magic and deals he had to make with different deities to acquire his powers.

He only shuts up when the bus stops in front of you and the doors open.

“Thank you for today, Jeonghan,” you babble through fits of laughter, “It was great.”

“Thank you too,” he smiles gingerly, “And don’t laugh at me. Or you’ll make some powerful enemies.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you shake your head, “Bye now.”

“Bye.”

You get on the bus and take a seat by the window. Jeonghan doesn’t move from his spot, you see him get smaller and smaller as the vehicle takes off. 

Despite the coffee, you feel tired. Tired but happy, you realize. You wipe your eyes and chuckle. If only every shift could be like this.

You keep grinning even as you put on your headphones and start the music. The glass is cold against your forehead and you hope it’ll keep you from falling asleep. Although you suppose it wouldn’t be so bad now that you feel this content.

The weekend passes by way too quickly. The bed remains unmade and the couch remains a messy nest of blankets and pillows, although that’s hardly surprising seeing as that’s where you spend most of the time. Some chores got done, some didn’t, but you tell yourself that’s fine. You’ll just do them before or after work, it’d be pointless to waste your completely free days on things like that. Starting on Monday sounds better than starting on Sunday night.

Some part of you feels guilty about not being more productive, but when you lay down in bed, you realize that you hold no tension in your shoulders and you remind yourself you’re not a machine. You need to rest too. Chores will wait. Being productive will wait. What needs to be done isn’t going anywhere - the time you get to spend on your hobbies is.

You settle in bed and set up the alarm for tomorrow. You don’t work until afternoon and you’re going to bed early, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

Staring at the ceiling, you don’t think you’re gonna fall asleep any time soon, but that just can’t be helped. Just closing your eyes should provide some rest, and who knows, maybe your body will surprise you.

It’s hard to keep track of time with your eyes closed and your mind racing. You’ve already thought of six sick burns that you wish you had ready when you needed them, you’ve won two philosophical debates, and you were about to invent a life changing knick-knack if only your phone didn’t light up and didn’t alert you to a new text message.

You consider ignoring it. Nobody really texts you, so it’s most likely just some spam or they got the wrong number.

But then it rings again.

And again.

You pick up the phone and squint at the screen.

The messages keep going.

[kurocamille]

❝maybe frat boys aren’t so bad (aka cars are meant for driving!)❞

Frat!Bakugou Katsuki x reader (except he’s not stereotypical and mean) mdni

part 2

4.1k+ words

you attend your first frat party and run into a familiar flirty face. he offers to drive you home from the party, the empty parking lot outside your dorm building definitely seems like the perfect place to get down and dirty…

warnings

part 1 of 2 (2 will have full smut..) 1 oc who’ll come into play later…., car sex, fingering, handjobs, heavy makeout, hickeys/neck kisses, dry humping/grinding kinda, female/afab reader, no pronouns used, inexperienced reader, “baby” as a pet name

It was your first time going to a college party, miraculously enough. This year, you had met a group of girls who had quickly invited you into their friend group. Somehow, despite you refusing over ten times, they had managed to drag you to a frat party.

After getting yourself a cup of mysterious red punch, you stand in the crowd of people. Bodies brush against you—intentionally or unintentionally, you don’t know. You’ve seen a few of your friends since arriving, but it seems like most of them are off doing God knows what with some drunken frat boy.

You can feel the beat of the music in your chest, as if it’s pumping your heart for you. The strobe lights flash around you. Sipping away at your drink, you go wandering in search of someone you know.

When you exit the common room, you float down a hallway with fewer people. Despite fewer people being there, the hallway is stuffy, and you can barely walk through without knocking shoulders with someone.

You aren’t watching where you’re going, and suddenly you trip on the bunched up carpet beneath your feet. The half-full soda cup goes flying, and so do you. It spills on the front of your shirt and down the back of a nearby couple who, until now, had been in the middle of making out,

“Ugh!” the girl shrieks, and you look up to see her glaring at you. She comes out from under the guy caging her, and you realize it’s the girl Mika from one of your classes. As always, her hair is perfectly coiffed, and she’s wearing a dress that barely covers her ass.

The girl shakes her hands of the sticky liquid that spilled on her, but seeing as she had previously been caged under that other guy, she had barely gotten wet. Meanwhile, the guy stands in a sopping wet shirt. You also recognize him; Bakugou Katsuki. He’s in another one of your classes, one of which you had been paired up for a partner project. Unlike Mika, he doesn’t look like he’s trying too hard. A white short-sleeved band t-shirt complements his black jeans, something you wouldn’t have expected a frat boy like him to wear.

Despite being in the same fraternity/sorority group, Mika and Bakugou could not be more different, and you can’t help but wonder how they ended up together. While Mika is extremely stereotypical and, if you might say, annoying, rude, and a bitch, Bakugou is really nice. That one project had taught you that not every frat boy is a shameless womanizer and prick. Although he’s a definite flirt, he’s always been respectful and acknowledged you as an equal—opposite of what Mika had done to your friends, and now you.

“I’m so sorry,” you say hastily.

“Don’t min-” Bakugou starts, but he’s cut off by Mika.

“You better be sorry!” she all but screeches at you. “This is a brand new set of nails. They’re completely ruined. You better repay me for this. It cost 10,000 yen, you know that? Can you even fucking afford that”

“Look, I’m sorry I did that, but I don’t know if I can repay tha-” you start. The look she gives you is incredulous as she snarls before interrupting you.

“I actually can’t believe you. You must be a dumb slut dying for Bakugou’s attention. Imagine sabotaging me just because he chose to be with me! And you’re so poor you can’t even afford to fix your mess… Ridiculous,” she huffs, pressing a pointy finger into your chest and probably expecting you to bow down and beg for forgiveness.

You try to apologize, but Bakugou steps in before you can say anything.

“Mika, who cares,” he sighs. He looks at you with a silent ‘I can’t deal with this face.’

The silence that follows feels like an eternity, but it really only elapses the half second before her hand makes contact with Bakugou’s face.

The sound from the slap resounds in the small hallway. You stare wide-eyed at the growing red spot with matching nail marks on Bakugou’s face.

“You should fucking care. We’ve been together for, like, a month already, and you still won’t stand up for me?! I’m done, don’t call me,” she seethes before pointing at you. “And you, you better hope we never see each other again.”

After that, Mika storms off in a fit of rage and disappears into the crowd.

“Dating on and off for a month, and she pulls that. Psychotic bitch,” he mutters before turning to you. “Hey, Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming, you should’ve told me.”

“I’m so sorry, for all of that. I’ll just get going and pretend I never saw that.” You turn on your heel to dash out, but a hand grips your shoulder and turns you around.

“No need to apologize, she gets crazy when she’s drunk, and I was planning on breaking up with her,” he shrugs. “Anyway, I’m just gonna head upstairs and shower this stuff off. You can come up too, if you want, Y/N.”

You raise a brow at his suggestion. “You want me to come shower with you?”

A look of confusion and surprise crosses his sharp features before a smirk breaks out. “There are multiple bathrooms up there, but you know, if they’re all taken, you can always join me.” He sends you the stupidest wink that still sends your stomach into frenzy.

“You bounce back too quickly,” you groan. “Whatever, I’m coming up, but not with you.”

Bakugou reverts to his uncaring self and has you follow him. You follow Bakugou, slowly making your way up the rickety house stairs. When you make it around the corner, Bakugou points you in the direction of an ensuite washroom, and disappears into the room across from you. “Just take a folded towel, and I’ll deal with it. If you need anything, just come and get me.”

In the quiet of the bedroom, you lock the door and undress. You make your way into the connected bathroom and strip down in the low light. The shower has terrible pressure and doesn’t heat up, but it does the job of cleansing the sticky punch off your skin.

You finish your shower within five minutes and step out to grab a towel. It’s surprisingly clean, but the pile of your clothes on the counter are still dripping with liquid. That means you’ll either have to walk around in a towel for the rest of the night or muster up the courage to ask Bakugou for some clothes.

You opt for the second option, seeing as you won’t have to walk through a drunken frat house in a towel that barely covers your “good bits.” So, you head back to the door where Bakugou was, rolling your clothes into a ball and tucking them under your arm. When you get there, the door is still closed, as you expected, but there is no sound of running water coming from the room.

“Bakugou, sorry, I need some extra clothes,” you say after knocking on the door.

As if it isn’t embarrassing enough, Bakugou takes his sweet time getting to the door. When it finally opens, he stares at you, his eyes unashamedly trailing up and down your body. He, similarly to you, looks to have just gotten out of the shower. Water droplets fall from his hair and fall down his hardened chest, which he doesn’t bother to clothe. The only thing keeping his from being stark naked in front of you is the towel sitting low on his hips, low enough that you can see his v-line drifting below.

“Clothes?” he asks after an awkward pause, and you flush.

“Yeah, anything will do, I just need it to get home in them,” you reply.

“Alright, come in.” He beckons you with his hand to follow him.

The first thing you notice when you enter is that his room is far different from the other one. While the first bedroom, whose you can only assume is his frat brother’s, is standard for a male college student—clothes strewn everywhere, an only half-made bed, and suspicious posters. Bakugou’s room is the opposite, the bed made, shelves tidy, and everything in order.

Bakugou coughs and breaks you out of the spell you’re under. He’s holding out a crumpled plastic bag, with some grocery store logo on it. “Here, for your wet clothes.”

You quickly snatch the bag and stuff your clothes into it. As you struggle to fit them inside, the towel hugging your body slips from its hold and drops below your nipples. From your peripheral vision, Bakugou freezes ever so slightly, and you hear an awfully loud swallow.

As soon as you notice him, however, he averts his eyes and pretends he had been looking for clothes the whole time. The outfit he chooses for you isn’t half bad, a hoodie and drawstring sweatpants, but they look so big they could drown you.

You take the two garments from him, accidentally brushing fingers in the process. He pulls away from you and heads back towards his ensuite bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll be in here. I won’t peek. You can get changed in the bedroom.”

With that, he closes the door and cements a divide between the two of you. Quickly, you change into the clothes he gave you, having to roll up the cuffs on them multiple times. You look like a blob of fabric, but it’ll have to do. Hopefully Bakugou won’t notice that you’re not wearing your bra and panties.

Knocking on the bathroom door, you meet face to face with Bakugou one last time. He’s fully clothed now and gives you a smile.

“Looks like it fits,” he says sarcastically.

“For sure,” you joke, flattening out the garments awkwardly. “I’m planning on heading out now, by the way. I think I’ll just catch an Uber, I’m pretty sober now, and my friends will probably be here for a while longer.”

“Don’t take an Uber,” he replies suddenly.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he corrects himself. “I mean, it’s not safe to take one right now. Let me drive you, I didn't drink tonight.”

“No way!” you retort. “I couldn’t bother you with that. I’ll be fine, anyway.”

However, Bakugou, being his stubborn self, does not relent until you agree to let him drive you all the way back to your dorms, only a stupid 30 minutes away.

Normally, you wouldn’t risk going with someone in his frat, but you have enough trust in Bakugou to keep civil. So, after a moment of contemplation, you accept his offer and follow him to the adjacent parking lot. Multiple people stare as you walk past them, but you pay them no mind, seeing as you’re practically unrecognizable in your new outfit.

“Yo, Bakubro, good for you!” a redhead yells from the doorway as you leave, whooping in a supportive, you suppose, manner.

“Ah, shut up, don’t spread any rumours, Shittyhair.” Bakugou groans, but you don’t miss the way his ears turn pink.

You’ll have to forget about that, though, because the lights of a black Jeep Wrangler flash on, and Bakugou escorts you to the passenger seat.

“I didn’t know you were this much of a gentleman, Bakugou,” you giggle in an embarrassingly girly way.

“I’m always a gentleman.” He winks and walks around to his side of the vehicle, leaving you feeling hot in the face.

He swings into the passenger seat, and puts the car in motion. You can’t help but notice the way his arms grip the steering wheel, the veins from his strong hands trailing up his forearms in a way that makes you unconsciously bite your lip.

“Put the address into the GPS,” Bakugou interrupts, and you notice his eyes force themselves away from your lips.

You deny whatever you just saw and punch your address into the screen. The machine takes only a second to bring up the route home, which, at this late hour, will actually only take 15 minutes.

After pulling out of the lot, Bakugou heads down the street following the indicated yellow line. He drives smoothly and professionally, as you expected he would. He maneuvers the car with expertise, and you can’t help but think he’s showing off when he steers with an open palm and an arm on the back of your seat.

For most of the ride, you guys are silent. Other than the faint whirring of the air conditioner, the only sounds to be heard are made by you and Bakugou. His by his slow, peaceful breathing, and yours by the beating of your heart—something which betrays you by getting louder and faster with every minute.

Luckily for you, the drive is soon over and Bakugou’s car is parked right outside of your dorm building. For the most part, the lot is empty, and the lights from the windows are off. It makes sense, most people in your extremely small building are out partying at 9 o’clock on a Friday, and the homebodies you’d normally associate with are already in bed.

Your specific block seems to be completely dark, seeing as you left your friends behind at that party… Whoops. It’s no matter, however, you’ll just be the first one in your complex to get back.

You unclick the belt from your waist, moving up on the seat to grab your things off the floor.

“This is you, right?” Bakugou questions.

“Yep! Thank you so much for driving me. I’ll text you later so you can have your clothes back.” You smile at him and go to open the door, but he lightly pulls you back.

“Wait. Y/N, you can keep them, actually. ” He chuckles, but it has an awkward tone to it. “You look better in them than I do”

Wait, what?

You always thought Bakugou was just flirty by nature, which to some extent he is, but you could see it now. Whatever you two had going on was certainly out of the ordinary. From what you could tell, Bakugou wasn’t half as teasing towards Mika as he was to you.

Ever since that one project, he had always made it a priority to sit next to you in class. You had assumed he was there for your notes, not that you minded, but could it actually have been for another reason altogether?

“Well, I would bet you look pretty good in these too, not that you don’t always look good,” you giggle, testing out the waters.

Bakugou’s eyes widen in surprise and soften under the pale light of his car. You stare at him fondly, accidentally letting your eyes flicker to his lips.

“Y/N, I-“ he starts but can’t seem to find the right words.

“I know you just broke up—literally tonight, but, Bakugou, gosh, I really want to kiss you right now,” you speak for him.

Maybe that punch was more potent than you thought. Good thing Bakugou drove you all the way here…

Instead of replying, Bakugou places a tender hand on your cheek and pulls you in. Soft lips meet your own, and you smile. You move to his lap where the seat has suddenly been rolled back.

Ah, it’s his frat boy car seat trick.

Your kisses continue slowly, and you can tell Bakugou wants to deepen the kiss when his tongue brushes against your lips. Upon first contact, you freeze in place. Before this you’d only ever been with one guy, one that you hadn’t even gone far with. In the moment now, you can only hope and pray that he won’t notice your inexperience.

However, you completely forget whatever worry you had when Bakugou starts to go into your mouth. His large hands pull you flush against his body, grabbing at the flesh right above your ass.

When you finally pull back, Bakugou’s eyes are blown wide, and he looks lost to lust. The lips that had previously been on yours now have a cute pout, having puffed up from your kisses.

Bakugou’s lips move down and pepper chaste kisses along your jawline. Even with his light and seemingly innocent pecks, you’re still softly moaning under his hold.

Bakugou switches focus to your neck, licking and sucking a hickey into your skin. After nipping at you for a while, Bakugou lifts off of you, and you can tell with his smirk that he left a massive bruise blooming on your skin.

“Bakugou, let me touch you,” you whisper as he moves to kiss the other side of your neck.

“Call me Katsuki… Please. “ He groans when you slightly grind against his groin.

You shift down on your hips and look down to see a thick boner growing in his pants. Curiously, you press it softly with your fingers and give it a light squeeze.

Katsuki looks down at you, his face quickly turning red. Silently, you reach into his pants, looking at his gorgeous ruby eyes for any sign of contestment. Katsuki stays quiet but gives you a small nod in approval.

Finally, you get to the moment you’ve been waiting for. You press your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, sliding your hand across the top of his cock. Then, with one movement, you free him from his confines, and his dick stands proudly in front of you.

Any expectations or preconceived notions about what Katsuki was packing were shattered. Painfully hard and dripping tiny amounts of precum, his cock is a beauty. The dark pink tip invites you in, begging you to give it one moment of reprieve.

When you nervously stroke the shaft, Katsuki’s reaction is instantaneous, his hips lurching up against yours.

“Fuck, keep going,” he hisses, his breath already laboured.

With more confidence you wrap your fingers around him and give his cock a few quick pumps. Your sudden change in tempo makes Bakugou’s cock twitch in your hold and release a bead of white precum. You remove your hand, and Katsuki’s eyes meet yours with a pleading look.

Carefully, you push your thumb against the slit of his dick and lubricate him with his own pre-cum. As you swirl the substance around the head, Katsuki buries his face in your shoulder.

“Oh my God, I’m about to cum,” he gasps. “Fuck, it’s like I’m a virgin again.”

Bakugou’s chest heaves as you work him to his high. With every light touch or squeeze of his dick you make, it twitches and throbs in reply. You decide to help him finish, doing the same fast strokes that make him groan lewdly in your ear.

Then, all of a sudden, Bakugou reaches out and stops your hand in the middle of its movements. You eye him, confused. “You into edging or something?”

“Not quite, I wanna get you off, too.” He surprisingly lets out a hearty laugh.

“Sit up, baby,.” You follow his instructions and he picks you up with ease.

Katsuki flips you over so you’re no longer sitting on top of him, rather lying caged underneath him. His body is so close to yours that you can’t look down to see what’s happening when you feel his hands moving against your clothed pussy.

“May I?” he asks, tugging at the edge of your panties.

“Still such a gentleman,” you giggle embarrassingly.

“Breaking the frat boy stereotypes as we go, I suppose.” He laughs with you, before turning his attention back to your body.

His adept fingers pull your soaked panties to the side, revealing your equally glistening cunt. Katsuki nimbly dips his fingers in your wetness with a soft hum.

“So wet, baby,” he grins, and you blush in embarrassment.

Bakugou skillfully captures your attention by pressing the pad of his thumb against your aching sex, as if to test the waters. When he hears your soft moan in response, he takes it as an invitation to keep going.

Slowly, Katsuki’s thumb plays with your throbbing clit, brushing it in teasing circles. A whine escapes your mouth, and he chuckles upon hearing it, knowing how needy you feel. “You want my fingers inside of you?”

You gasp out a ‘yes,’ and his fingers are immediately prodding at your entrance. Then, you feel the stretch your hole makes to accommodate his intruding finger. Although you’re not used to such a feeling, you easily adapt to the length of his digit, which pleasantly curls into your depths.

Bakugou starts fingering in and out of you, and the pleasure increases. Previously soft moans and whines turn into cries against his shoulder. Despite your embarrassment of being oversensitive, the flush on Bakugou’s face proves he’s just as affected, without you even touching him.

As Katsuki continues to slip inside your wetness, you feel the pressure building in your stomach, much differently than it ever has before. One more finger squeezes into your tight cunt and presses against your pleasure spot. You cry out, and his hands continue to brush against that sensitive place.

“Fuck, that feels good, please don’t stop,” you babble mindlessly, barely even registering Bakugou’s reply of, “Course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.’

To your blissed out surprise, the pleasure gets stronger. The sensation on your clit returns, and your body uncontrollably arches into Bakugou’s above you. With every calculated movement against your bundle of nerves, you’re worked closer to orgasm.

Then, all of a sudden, the angle of the thrusting fingers changes. Bakugou changes his position to be closer to you, somehow managing to reach further than before. With every new touch to your g-spot and clit, you feel yourself being pushed to your high.

In turn, you grasp a hold of Katsuki’s twitching cock. His hiss in reply shows you just how sensitive he is from before. Your hand moves up and down, matching the quick strokes of his fingers. Just as quickly as he had gotten you to the peak of your orgasm, his body convulses, signaling his is soon to come, as well.

Your moans crescendo and bounce off the walls of the car, and Bakugou can't help but be spurred on by them. The speed of his hand gets faster, still very much calculated in its movements, your hole fluttering around his digits.

After swiping your thumb across his leaking tip, Bakugou’s body seems even more sensitive, if it’s even possible. His cock violently throbs in your hand, begging to spill its seed. You oblige its wishes and continue your pumps up and down his hard length.

You can feel yourself almost cumming, on the brink of losing your mind. Similarly, Katsuki’s body, his higher-pitched moans, twitching shaft, and milky tip, tell you he’s extremely close.

Then, taking you by surprise, Bakugou cuts off your moans with a hot kiss. Immediately after you make contact, his tongue sweeps against yours in a passionate dance.

“I’m gonna cum!” Your voice gets muffled by the tongue pressing against your own.

The addition his mouth was to your pleasure plunges you right into orgasm. Your body convulses, pussy tightening uncontrollably, and you wail into his mouth. Anything you had ever expected of sex is automatically blown to bits when this atomic force hits you.

You feel your eyesight black out, as if you’ve been hit by a truck. You subconsciously grip harder around Katsuki’s dick, causing his orgasm to come shooting out of him. Long strings of his pearly cum cover the palm of your hand, his cock still moving to let out the last bits of his seed.

The bliss that follows is calming. Bakugou finally pulls out of you, his face coming off of yours to reveal his dazed eyes and flushed cheeks.

You doubt you look appealing, but Bakugou looks at you sweetly and more kindly than you can assume he does with anyone else.

“You did so well, baby,” he whispers to you after leaning down to your level.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek and slowly untangle your limbs from his. Bakugou helps you up and grabs your (borrowed) clothes that had previously been strewn across the other seats.

After dressing yourself and saying a quick goodbye to Bakugou, you slip out of his car and head back into your dorms.

You smile to yourself as you lay in bed alone. On your bedside table you notice you’ve received a new notification, a message from an unknown number. What you see makes you smile and blush.

‘That was such a great night, let’s do it again sometime. - Bakugou’

a/n: hi guys. i’m back for the holidays and i hope to put out part two soon (let’s be honest, i never write things on time). i tried writing something more plot heavy… hope you enjoyed🫶 also, sorry for the edging joke. i think i’m funny.

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * “Parent Teacher Meeting” — Toji Fushiguro

Synopsis: Toji Fushiguro was not exactly the father you expected to meet when he showed up for his kids’ (aka Megumi’s) parent teacher meeting—especially not when you find yourself being the one punished for bothering him by wanting to talk about Megumi’s behaviour.

— Word Count: 1.9k

— A/n: Based on this ask here by @misaki-the-lotusflower . Thank you so much for requesting sweets<3 and uh- dilf toji? Yes please

— Warnings: AFAB! reader; MDNI!! Porn without much plot; toji is a bitch; slightly naive reader?; cursing; name calling (slut, whore, etc); age gap(?)—reader is in her mid twenties and toji in mid thirties; face slapping; mutual masturbation; degradation; oral (male receiving!); not proof read, might have typos

He was late—you huffed in annoyance.

After 8 tries of trying to schedule a meeting with him, the least you could expect was the insolent man to show up on time—he was a good kid, Megumi but a genuine concern flashed you everytime his behaviour came to check.

A hefty talk with a parent was always the way to go, it was useful to say the least—but it was well past half an hour that the school had ended and he still hadn’t shown up—and as a teacher, things like this made were sure to infuriate you. After all, no wonder Megumi Fushiguro acts up.

Your eyes bummed onto Megumi and Tsumiki—contrasting, they both stood and yet so similar, a sincere smile you passed them—fingers reaching out for the fifth time to call the concerned man.

“No need to call me again,” his voice deep—the first thing you noted, then his hair and face, Megumi was an exact replica in most sense of the word. He wasn’t very old— and whatever age he carried, he did it well—certainly appealing to your eyes.

Megumi’s distasteful expression could never go ignored by you—but you passed a thin smile, pressed—“After noon sir,”

“Fushiguro’s fine—or Toji, if you prefer,”

A nod you passed, “Mr. Fushiguro,”

“I prefer Toji,” your jaw clenched, released as you looked at the kids—ignoring his comment you smiled, “can you guys give us just a couple minutes? We’ll be done soon,”

And ever the lively kid, Tsumiki was quick to pull Megumi out with her, a pleasant smile—all so different from the man who sat across you.

“Mr. Fushiguro,” you began—“You’ve an issue by taking my name woman?”

Your blood boiled, lips pursed, you stared at him.

“Excuse you sir?” Your words were steely- firm, any other person would’ve noted onto your frustration and beckoned it—Toji Fushiguro? That was a new challenge you’d seemingly encountered.

“Cut the ‘sir’ bullshit—what do you want?”

Head tilted to your side, you stared at him—“Your son’s behaviour, Mr.Fushiguro,” you stared into his eyes, emerald just like Megumi’s—gorgeous, really.

“He’s a nice kid, good student and he’s fine at academics too—”

“—is he?” The man drew out, a subtle smirk resting on his face.

You looked at him confused—“I mean with that slutty skirt of yours?” Your mouth hung open—ears burning and embarrassment fresh upon your face—“But then he’s a kid, it doesn’t matter right? It’s for men like me isn’t it?”

From ears to your face, slowly it spread—flushing all over.

A denial lay loose on your lips, unsure—you felt dirty from his mere words—he chuckled.

“Mr Fushiguro I assure you that’s not the sort of language-”

“-shut up,” he snapped, another grin—wolffish this time, hungry as if—“I’ll keep it short and simple for you, I’m sending my kid here because I can’t deal with him. He’s your responsibility,” he paused letting his words process, “next time you call me, I’ll fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk—let alone talk,”

Mind a mess, you stared at him—bewildered, not a single part of it was unserious, you knew and yet, even threatened you couldn’t help the certain feeling of need emerging, sprouting in you.

“You can’t- I- sir this isn’t…” your words fumbled, his mere gaze piercing enough—“what?” He promoted once and you were putty in your seat.

“You can’t talk to me like that- I’m a teacher for fuck’s sake-” you internally cursed at the outbreak, but regret lay a thin line—“well in all particularity, you can’t wear such clothes either,” eyes gazed down—it wasn’t all so bad, per se.

But it just passed the dress code so it wasn’t much better either—a sheer white blouse and black slacks that defined your figure—it was all so intentional, but nothing bad when the context be the kids you taught.

But then again, Toji wasn’t a middle schooler—and his eyes were seemingly stuck onto your chest.

“Nor is the way you just talked the protocol, is it?”

Your face burned all the more—Toji knew the effect he had, all so evident in the way your thighs were pressed together, face flushed at his words and lip bitten all so cute—he knew you liked it.

“Now,” he paused, getting a look at your desk to catch your name, “Y/n,” he grinned and you couldn’t help the butterflies emerging in your stomach as he did so—“You know what would happen if I complained? To your authorities?”

Blood running dry, you coughed out a “excuse me?”

His grin only widened, “You’ve pissed me off woman, calling me these many times—even the whores I fuck and leave don’t bother so much,”

And in the moment, he could see the discomfort on your face—a roll of the eye, he softened, “I won’t call your mistake out alright?” He smiled—as if treating you a miracle—even when you had no mistake in particular, “But I do want something in turn for it,”

Eyes narrowing in confusion, you paused, “money?”

A laugh he barked out, “Had money been an issue I wouldn’t have wasted my time with you doll,” he smirked, “just need you to use your tongue the right way,”

A deep pit seemed to have dropped on you—you stared at him, dumbfounded.

He stared back—hands moving slow as he pushed his chair back, an invitation

“It’s either this or losing that pretty job,” and in that particular moment, you lied to yourself, that all of this—propping yourself on your knees between his thighs—you looked at him through hooded eyes, a slight pout on your lips.

“You’re shameless,” you whisper, staring at the tent in his pants—he was huge, he raised a brow, “says the slut on her knees for me,” he chuckled—“Sucking your students’ dads—is that what you do Hm?” A soft hand caressed your cheek as his eyes bore into yours—contrary to his degrading words.

But you stayed quiet—nimble fingers working fast, any and every pretence dropped as you focused eagerly upon the hook of his best, pulling carefully the zipper down.

And there it was, you smiled, it was hard—it’s tip leaking with precum and you passed him a knowing smile, proud of your affect upon—the moment lasting only so long before you felt his hands grab your hair.

His grip was rough—a yank, hard, and your face was at level with his cock—salivating you stared.

“Beg for it,” he ordered, voice gruff as he stared down at you—“beg for it like the whore you are,”

He was all so mean, with the way his foot nudged at your clothed cunt—with the way he pushed your body a little —“please,” you whispered, desperate.

“Please let me ah!-” a cry you let you as his hand came crashing onto your cheek swiftly, sharp—“that’s the best you’ve got?”

You felt tears at the brink of your eyes, “Please,” you began again, voice breaking—perhaps it was the tension that did so, “please let me suck your dick Toji—mm!” Words interrupted by just another slap—“Ah ah ah,” his tongue clicked at your mistake.

“Who’s Toji baby? Mr.Fushiguro, right?” You gulped and sniffled at his words, “Yes,” you but your lip, a pout resting there soon—“Please let me suck your dick Mr.Fushiguro,” expectant eyes encouraged you for more—“Wanna- wanna make you feel good, wanna taste you,”

And just then he snickered, pulling your head hard towards his base, “Open yoour mouth slut- tongue out,”

You followed numbly, instantly—tongue plopped out for him as you stared at him with big eyes, “Such a good pet,” he groaned—same hands caressing your head as he slapped his cock on your tongue—plop-plop-plop—until thick fingers squeezed your mouth open suddenly shoving his entire length into your mouth.

Every groan gagged by his thick length, you could only let your tears out as he abused the back of your throat, pulling your hair in a messy ponytail—and shoving you deeper and deeper with each thrust.

You could hear him groaning loudly, carelessly—after all your reputation barely mattered to him, “Fu-ck so eager for my dick, my pet,” you continued moving your mouth around him, experimenting hesitantly.

A roll off your tongue around the sensitive tip and simple, swift suck at it too—a moan he let out.

Your eyes shot up, fascinated as he chuckled—“hmm~? Is this what you want? my taste? the way i stretch your mouth?”

You nodded to his words, ready to seek his pleasure.

“you can’t keep your mouth off of me can you? Some teacher” a scoff he passed, the embarrassment you felt never truly stopped.

Broken moans fell from his mouth—and obscenities that would have you hurling but you loved it, loved the way he feel apart for you.

“Wanted you- ah…” another suppressed moan, “since the day I saw you in that fuckin’ sundress—always dressing like a cockslut aren’t ya?”

You could feel the wetness between your legs grow—begging to be touched, desperate.

“Wearing all these skirts—just ready to be fingered yeah?” The pressure he applied on your head increased as you gagged—daring not once to pull away, hair and makeup ruined minutes ago.

You could tell he was close—in the way he twitched, in the way groans and insults had suppressed into breathy moans.

You looked pretty though, hair disheveled, and lipstick all over your lips and his cock—a pretty mess of his.

A needy, desperate mess for him, especially in the way your fingers—laying bare for Toji was fully face-fucking you then, broken and choked out cried you let out—fingers inching towards your throbbing pussy.

You needed it—he did too.

“Don’t touch,” a warning, “not until I tell you to,” your movements came to a hault—a ‘ok’ you whispered as pulled away from your warm mouth—hands pumping his own cock fast.

“Remove the blouse,” he was close—so very close—“now,”

Shirt lay unbuttoned half way when he stopped your frenzied movements, “cup your boobs,” a confused glance you would’ve passed had you had the chance—but a glare from him lay more than enough to continue.

Tired your fingers felt as they moved to grab your boobs together—squeezing them, pressing them how you imagined he would, you sat there kneeling before him.

“Shit—you’re so fucking pretty,” he groaned, voice breaking as his head hung back, pushing his own climax—“pinch yourself,” and so you did without hesitation.

It was simply erotic, the sheer image of you two, your mouth hung open too—in the pleasure the pain provided you—“touch yourself,” he moaned then.

And just what you needed then for you found yourself touching yourself through your pants—applying just the pressure you needed—so wet.

Filthy—in the way the sound of his hand pumping his cock—flesh on flesh; your moans and his filled the room.

“C’mere” he growled—and you did, closer to him, musky his scent—you were so close, just a little more and—

A gasp you let out as sticky, white hot mess he spilled on you—your boobs and neck and face—cum spilling out in thick ropes as he pumped.

And just at that—you came too, mouth hung open as you traversed your high—it felt the best it ever had, under his panting gaze.

A series of sweet nothings he provided you, putting your head as you settled back—a frown on your lips and a chuckle on his own.

“Get decent,” he commanded and your frown deepened further—“you’ve got plenty of kids for me to fuck you anyways,”

A roll of your eyes as you too, beside him started getting dressed—“and anyways,” he grinned, “I’m sure gumi’s gonna act up soon,”

A sharp slap on your ass and a squeeze and just like that he was leading his way out as non-chalantly as he entered.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

Taglist: @4sat0ruu @illogicallyx @rizzmin @lavendervogh @kazoomas @spaceisfarfarawayy @gojoismybitch

[minnieminshi]

Sporteen Masterlist

Welcome to what I call my chronic brainrot and where I start to accept the fact that I might actually like watching sports even tho I spent most of my childhood saying I hate sports lol 

This is the first series I’ve done and I’m also a first year uni student so I make no promises on how frequent I can update this but I do wanna try to get them done at least by when my semester ends in like April

Also some of the stories are linked as since some of the guys are on the same team/sport

Choi Seungcheol: Pucking Chemistry

Summary: You never should’ve agreed to tutor the captain of the hockey team. Who shows up a full hour after the agreed meeting time? Choi Seungcheol, apparently as you’ve come to learn. And now you’re stuck tutoring him because for some reason, you're his last hope to pass chemistry so he’s eligible to play in an upcoming tournament. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, mentions of your father abandoning the family 

Extra info: high school setting, Cheol uses the term "princess" a lot and I'm a sucker for calling people by their last name, mentions of Monsta X’s I.M (aka Changkyun) and Kard’s Somin (but she gets mentioned like once lol), your little brother’s name never gets mentioned but you do call him Frosty lol, and my knowledge of hockey is limited to watching Dr. Mike on yt talk about hockey injuries so there’s not a whole lot of hockey action in this fic lmao. On a personal note, this fic made my realize my little brother is turning 13 this year and I can’t handle that because what do you mean he’s a teen now he literally turned one the other day and I think that shows in this fic lol

Release: 2/24 Read Here

Word count: 9.9K

Yoon Jeonghan:  Maybe Romeo and Juliet Were Onto Something

Summary: When you agreed to help your dad with coaching his soccer team, you expected to help with writing down prs and handing out water bottles in return for free tickets and an excuse to be out of your dorm. What you didn’t expect to happen was falling for the charming co-captain of his soccer team. So do you take your shot with co-captain or do you heed your dad’s one and only rule of absolutely no dating his players? 

Warnings: cursing since that’s gonna be pretty much a staple in my writing lol, arguments with a parent 

Extra info: uni setting, so originally Jeonghan was gonna be a basketball player but then I remembered I hate basketball due to getting hit in the face and breaking my glasses on my birthday during practice… Plus I saw a tiktok of svt playing sports and Jeonghan was playing soccer and the gears started turning in my head lol 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Hong (Jisoo) Joshua:  It’s a Win-Win! Right?

Summary: Agreeing to fake date your best friend definitely wasn’t on your schedule when you dropped by after Joshua’s swim practice after your student council meeting had ended. But with his oddly passionate fangirls, you suppose this was more for his comfort than anything else. And hey, you could also use this to get your vice president to stop hitting on you as well, so it's a win-win for everyone. Plus it’s not like you’d be met with the realization that you might be in love with your best friend, that’s crazy…

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol, and crazy fangirls 

Extra info: high school setting, I got a confession… I don’t actually know how to swim lmaoo I just never learned so I apologize for the lack of actual swimming lol and Joshua is definitely inspired by Oikawa from Haikyuu in the sense of his fangirls lol and I guarantee there’s at least 50 fake dating Oikawa fics so here’s my spin on that with Joshua lol. I was also half tempted to make Joshua like one of my friends, who, for some reason decided our senior year to join our school’s swim team that I didn’t even know we had lol while he was on the varsity soccer team but I decided against it for simplicity lmao 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Wen Junhui: Racing Hearts and Skating to Love

Summary: Getting the chance to perform at an end of year celebration? Amazing! Having to perform a paired performance with Wen Junhui? Not amazing! Don’t get it twisted! You don’t hate Junhui, in fact it’s the opposite. You’ve been silently crushing on your fellow skater for months, and now you’re going to have to create and perform a paired program with him. Which of course meant having to spend weeks with him, and getting close to him to actually practice. But you can do this, it’s only for a few weeks, your heart can handle it. Hopefully it can, at least.

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself lol

Extra info: it’s never mentioned but it’s a uni au lol, reader wears contacts and glasses because I do too and I love Wen Junhui so next question lol and literally all my knowledge of ice skating comes from the time I was obsessed with Yuzuru Hanyu like a year or two ago so I apologize for the inaccuracies of the sport lol

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Kwon Soonyoung:  Goal- Wait Watch Out!

Summary: Meet cute except it’s not cute and you probably have a concussion from the rogue soccer ball to the head. All you were trying to do was drop off your roommate's lunch since she forgot in the morning and now you’re being carried by a concerned goalie and your roommate treating you like one of her athletes. At least the goalie carrying you is cute? 

Warnings: cursing since I can’t help myself, and of course injuries (a concussion) since that’s the plot lol 

Extra info: uni setting, my knowledge is very limited on soccer and all that I do know comes from when my librarian would let me stay in the library while the cup was going on last year instead of making me go do errands for the teachers during my student aide period lol and putting Hoshi as goalie is most definitely brought on by Jeonghan’s monthly meeting pics of him as the goalie lol

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Jeon Wonwoo: Scheming Love 

Summary: When your coach told your team that you guys would play a skirmish against the boys volleyball team for fun, you felt your heart freeze. Now you weren’t scared of the boys team, you believe your team is fully capable of beating them in a game. No, what scares you is the fact that it means you have to play against Jeon Wonwoo, one of the middle blockers on the team. And your longtime crush. Normally you’re confident as a libero, doing your best to make sure your team’s defense’s on top and making sure the ball doesn’t touch the ground, but with Wonwoo on the court at the same time? Maybe you should start apologizing to your team now. Wait, why did they have a team huddle while you were helping the manager bring the water bottles? And why are they smiling at you like they’ve just made the greatest plan in the history of the world? 

Warnings: cursing as usual, and threatening to strangle someone (as a joke lol) 

Extra info: high school setting, reader wears glasses because I do too and I love Wonwoo lol. One of two fics that are fueled by my Haikyuu brainrot that’s coming back thanks to the movies and the new content that’s been coming out recently. Wonwoo as a middle blocker is brought on by this twitter artist that’s drawn Tsukishima in some Wonwoo stage outfits and that has caused me great pain I eat it up every time and reader being a libero is because that’s my favorite position lol 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Lee Jihoon: Wait Where Are You Going? Come Back!

Summary: You really didn’t plan to watch your university’s baseball team play today, especially since it was so hot out and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky to provide some shade to hide under. But alas, your best friend insisted on dragging you along, wanting to watch her boyfriend play. Sure that’s fine and dandy, but why drag you along? At least the catcher’s cute, or what you can see of him on account of his mask. Wow, he's really muscular and is he giving Seokmin signs on how to pitch- wait why is your best friend and her boyfriend pushing the two of you after the game is over? And why are they running away? Oh, she’s gonna pay for this once you get through his conversation with the cute catcher. 

Warnings: cursing as usual, and betrayal from your best friend and Seokmin lol 

Extra info: uni setting, I’m like 85% sure Woozi said he used to play as catcher when he played baseball so that’s why he has this position. I don’t know anything about baseball besides one man named Shohei Ohtani and that getting hit with the ball hurts like hell (and all the injuries Dr. Mike on yt covered lol) 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Lee Seokmin: Breaking News! Falling in Love is Scary!  

Summary: Being part of your university’s blog and radio show is great, until you’re being forced out of the studio/office and out in the open to go interview the baseball team after a recent winning streak. Normally this job would get assigned to another team member, but after a recent bout of frat flu ravaging your crew, the interview is left up to you. Whatever, just get the answers to the prewritten questions you have and the sooner you can go back to the studio/office to work on other things. Or that was the plan before the pitcher, Lee Seokmin, took an interest in you and suddenly seemed to pop up everywhere around campus. Or aka, grumpy reporter x sunshine baseball player. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual, and you being a hater for no reason lol 

Extra info: uni setting, I don’t know much about baseball other than the fact that I would kill to see DK in a baseball uniform 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Kim Mingyu: Red Bandage of Fate  

Summary: When you joined the athletic team as a student trainer and got assigned to the university’s soccer team, you wondered if the team’s number 06, Kim Mingyu, the ace of the team and top scorer, was the same Kim Mingyu who basically lived in the training center, constantly in need of treatment for his never ending list of injuries. And please, slow down with the injuries, the center’s almost out of athletic tape and bandages, you’re begging him to please be more careful out on the field. 

Warnings: cursing because I can’t help myself, and very obviously injuries (I’ll come back to be more specific with the injuries lol) 

Extra info: uni setting, I’m taking an intro to athletic training class this sem so I know some stuff about treating athletes but again it’s intro class so beware if some things aren’t super accurate lol 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Xu Minghao: Filmed Lovestory  

Summary: When you agreed to help film your friend’s practice for an upcoming competition, you didn’t think much of it. You’ve done it thousands of times. Put on your skates, a couple of extra layers so you won’t freeze, use her phone to record her, and follow her out on the ice. It’s simple, really, and a great way to spend Saturdays while also getting some exercise in between your tiring uni life. What you didn’t expect is somehow to agree to film the practices of one of her skating friends. Her very handsome skating friend, you might add. So now your weekends are fully booked for the ice, but watching Minghao skate on the ice, it’s not so bad. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual 

Extra info: uni setting, as I mentioned with my Jun fic, all of my figure skating knowledge comes from the time I was obsessed with Yuzuru Hanyu like a year or two ago so again I apologize for the inaccuracies of the sport

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Boo Seungkwan: Tangerines, Confessions and a Supply Closet  

Summary: When you agreed to be the boys volleyball team’s manager, you didn’t think you’d spend your high school career taking care of the team. Yet, here you are, in your senior year and the only reason some of your players are even here (and why some of them are passing their classes, seriously signing up as a manager became a lot more than just handing out water bottles!). The only reason you’ve been able to stick around as long as you have is because of the team’s setter, Boo Seungkwan, who makes your job of wrangling the team a little easier. Now if only you could get the team off your back about confessing to him before the two of you graduate, that really would be great. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual, threats to kill an entire volleyball team (all jokes), and getting locked in a supply closet 

Extra info: high school setting, this is the second fic that is 100% fueled by my Haikyuu phase that is slowly coming back due to the movies and the new content that’s been coming out recently. And out of all the sports, this is the one I’m most knowledgeable in since I actually watch matches (shout out to Lim Sungjin and Heo Subong). Also I had such a hard time giving Seungkwan a sport since he does so much I decided on volleyball because the thought of him playing makes me want to bark so there’s that 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Chwe (Vernon) Hansol: Quick, He’s Not Watching! 

Summary: When your older brother told you to wait for him in the bleachers, promising to give you a ride after your night class, you didn’t think much of it. If you’re lucky, you’d be able to take a nap in the bleachers waiting for him. What you didn’t expect was to somehow catch the attention of one of the midfielders, Vernon. As you come around more and more often, you find the midfielder always making an effort to say hey to you, and even stealing some of the team’s snacks for you. Now you just wonder if he’ll make a move before your brother notices the two of you getting closer with each other.

Warnings: uni setting, cursing as per usual, and older protective brother that means well but doesn’t go about it the right way 

Extra info: I deadass looked up what the positions in soccer are because I have no idea what goes on in the sport even though one of my friend’s played our entire high school career 

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

Lee Chan: You’re Not Too Bad 

Summary: You didn’t think that showing up to your best friend’s, Seokmin’s, baseball practices would make one of the players hate you, but here you are and apparently Lee Chan hates you. Or so you think at least. The rest of the team loves you, especially since you always bring them plenty of food to feed them throughout practice (it pays to be a nutrition major) and always try to help out even though you’re not an official manager. But it’s no biggie, it’s not like Chan hating you bothers you, nope, not at all. But maybe you’d skip out on stopping by Seokmin’s practice for the week… Yeah that sounds like a good idea. 

Warnings: cursing as per usual, Chan being a bit of an asshole but it gets resolved don’t worry 

Extra info: uni setting, Dino being assigned baseball is all because of the 231105 fansign where he was given a baseball jersey and glove, and I still don’t know how baseball works

Release: TBA

Word count: TBA

[heretyc]

Horror [Trager, Eddie Gluskin, Val]

Horror: A collection of small fics, consisting of Outlast's most iconic antagonists [in my opinion].

The poll I started isn't over, but "canonically" is winning and I love it. Dark shit here we come lol. I will be writing for my beloved Terror-iffic Trio [aka my favourite antagonists from each game]. A party with these 3 would be lit.

Drabble ideas here.

Content Warnings: Uhhh...Outlast Antagonists lol. That is your warning.

Trager: Gore, awful jokes, his bare ass.

Eddie: Gore, murder, injury, mentions of his...lovely little display, sexual assault [minor, just a slight touch, no penetration]. [Please lord don't let him teach an art class.]

Val: Sexual assault [slight penetration w/ fingers], gore, murder, mud, Val's bare ass, mud breasts and mudgina.

I mean it, this is pretty heavy shit. It isn't too graphic, but if SA triggers you...either look away or read with caution. Trager's section is safe. Unless you're afraid of his ass...cause me too, man.

MINORS GTFO. Miners can stay as long as they're not minor miners.

Read with caution, I condone none of this. Fics underneath the cut.

You/MC take the place of the protagonist. So...you are Miles/Waylon/Blake. Yayyyyy....? Or nay? Depends on how you feel. MC is gender neutral, but is referred to with fem pronouns in Eddie's section for obvious reasons. You do not talk in Trager or Eddie's sections as Miles and Waylon were "mute". You speak in Val's section, though. You are described as having breasts in Val's section as both sexes/all genders have breasts. Tiddies for everybody!!

Enjoy.

Drabble idea: "See, this place isn't haunted!"

Sometimes, a saving grace can be your one way ticket to hell. And this had been an excellent example of that. The angelic voice over the dumbwaiter was a dream come true; after running and hiding for so long, it was like you were granted a break.

Only for your face to fall as the scarred face of a man greeted you. The air around him reeked of danger.

This was not the haven you were lead to believe was waiting for you.

"You made the right choice here, buddy," he declared before punching you in the jaw, a pained yell leaving your throat, and he was quick to take advantage of your shocked state to haul you into a wheelchair.

He must have done this a dozen times, as he was quick to lock your wrists into the cuffs attached to the chair. They were tight, and he merely chuckled at seeing your attempts of getting out of them.

He looked fucked up.

He stood in front of you, hands behind his back, and his eyes were scanning you like a wolf scans its prey before it mauls it to bits, "You're not a variant...huh. Well, buddy...you can call me...Trager. Everyone else does, anyway."

As Trager made noises looking you up and down, you looked at his face. Coated by some half-assed attempt at a mask and some strange glasses upon his face, you come to the conclusion that he was some doctor here.

He clicks his tongue and smacks you on the back, "You've got a lot of things to learn here, buddy. I am honoured to be your teacher."

Teach you about what, exactly? You didn't want to know. But he started to push you forward, and you only questioned where your hell would be.

This place was already hell, but...at the hands of some crazed madman, it was different.

Trager hummed to himself, making jokes here and there, and he once grumbled when you didn't laugh at a stupid impression, before he finally made it to an elevator. It was...somewhat cleaner up here, for some reason.

However...

You could feel a breeze upon your skin, and upon hearing the howl of wind and torrential rain, you saw an exit. Pitch black and windy, yet so much more welcoming than in here. You questioned if there would be a tornado warning or something by how violent the wind seemed to be.

The rain out there was intense, torrential, heavy and oh so divine, and Trager only chuckled.

"You want to take a quick walk, bud?" He leaned down next to you, eyes looking into yours like he was an old friend, despite also looking feral. "Run free, like Forrest Gump? Unfortunately, we're running out of time." He clicked his tongue once more, pulling you into the elevator.

This was a cruel joke. Even the Elvis impression - awful impression, mind you - wasn't as bad as this.

Standing beside you, Trager pressed a simple button on the control pad before clasping his hands together behind his back. After a moment of movement, he looked back toward you, his voice a tone that suggested jest, "Did you know they call elevators a "shaft" in other places of the world?" He chuckled, shaking his head slightly.

Looking at him, you realized his skin looked...awful. Like he was a draugr from that video game you used to play.

His scalp was scarred, and after spending an hour in this place, you realize you're lucky your scalp was untouched.

Wires upon wires were wrapped along his arm, and upon closer inspection, you were horrified to notice that they weren't wires, they were tubes.

Of his own blood.

How did he not feel that?

A man like him probably enjoys that, to be honest.

His nails were quite long as well, albeit you couldn't blame him...hygiene in a place like this was laughable. He probably had to exert his inner wildcat to defend himself in this shit hole.

You nearly sobbed when the elevator came to its destination, and he took hold of the handles once more.

It smelled of death and lost hope up here.

Choruses of screams reached your ears and you flinched. He seemed to notice, as he violently shushed the poor bastards trying to break free of their confines, "Sh. Shshshsh...you weren't putting your tongue to good use anyway!"

Tongue...??

The man shrieking had a bloodied mouth, and he soon quieted after choking on, what you assume to be, his own blood. Trager only sighed, muttering to himself, "Really, I just needed something to lick my stamps."

This...was a cruel joke. Taking someone's tongue for stamps?? You were deep in thought, only for Trager to notice and grin evilly, "You should see what I do with the balls."

...Dear god.

"Yeah, this weird...cannibalistic guy downstairs begs for them...the guy knows what he wants, I gotta give him that. He reminds me of somebody...eh, buddy?"

He poked you in the shoulder as he pushed, and it appears he was referring to you.

"I saw your camcorder. You're some sort of journalist, here to...what, expose one of the biggest experiments in history?" He laughed at the notion, shaking his head. "I admire the bravery, really. Braving through disturbed masses...I have to admit, I'm impressed."

You only gulped.

"People love to say this place is...haunted." Trager noted, pushing you into a bathroom of some sort. Bloodied, smelled of decay and looked like a paradise for bugs and bacteria.

What had scared you the most was the array of torture devices he had laid out on a tray. This man was deranged, one way or another.

He continued his one-sided conversation, focusing on the aforementioned tray as he walked over to it, "I mean, who wouldn't? People love to paint asylums as haunted. They hear a ghastly noise or a terrified scream and immediately tell the papers that a house of human suffering is haunted."

Trager's hand hovered over each instrument of torture, trying to pick which one, but he hadn't stopped talking.

"And I am more than sure that's your entire...reason for coming here. Trying to prove it was haunted. But guess what, buddy?"

He finally picked up a blade, long and serrated, and he pressed it against a finger of yours, the edges sharp against your thin flesh. He leaned in close, his dry lips forming into a smile, "This place isn't haunted."

He moved away, the blade removed from your finger, and you breathed a sigh of relief as he placed it back down onto the tray.

"No, no. It's worse."

He finally picks up a gigantic pair of scissors, much like something you'd see picking away at a shrub, and he was more than eager to shut them and open them, metallic hisses invading your senses, much like the feeling of doom.

You will die here.

"This place is an example of human cruelty, my friend," he announced, voice loud and cheerful as if he wasn't about to maim you, and he placed the blades around some of your fingers. He cared not for your horrified shrieks and begs, he only leaned in once more and whispered,

"And you will be nothing but an example of what happened here."

Slice.

...

"Oh, come on, buddy...it's not like you needed your middle finger anyway. Now open up...I have some stamps to lick."

Drabble idea: "Oh my god, are you okay?!"

"Darling, please! You act as if I've done something rancid! What have I done to you to make you so afraid of me?!"

The bloodied behemoth on your tail was quick and hurried as he chased after you, his feet slamming against the rotting floorboards. You almost couldn't hear the music that played alongside the horrific display he handmade. The smell was awful, but the sight of it was enough to make you vomit.

You would not be the victim to the Groom. Not now. Not ever.

You would not have your pelvis slit, or your chest stuffed like you were a sex doll [ironically, that's all you would be to him], and you would not let him confess his undying love for you. It was fake and corrupt like this entire asylum.

Despite the smell of mildew and death, adrenaline filled your blood and you could tolerate the disgusting scents as you breathed in, your legs not yet faltering.

You've heard what he's done. The man who so giddily chased you rambled about it as you snuck around, and you were not pleased.

This was the only way out. Sometimes you have to take risks...right?

This wasn't worth it, though.

And sometimes, luck runs out. Like right now, as you are stuck in a dead end.

There was only an elevator. And it was not on your current floor.

Shit.

You could jump and risk a broken leg...or...

The emergency ladder. Broken and rusted, but it's tetanus over death.

You could explain all of this to the news with lockjaw.

"Wait, what are you doing?! Don't, don't-!"

You had leaped, gripping onto the ladder as your bottom half slammed against it. With a hiss you tried to pull yourself up, only for the ladder to break underneath you.

The top had snapped, and you tried to grab onto what remained on the wall, only to fall, your heart stopping.

Of all things to die from, it was a rusted ladder.

Oh well.

As your body slammed onto the top of the elevator, a sharp pang began to blossom from your ankle, and you look to see shards of glass sticking out of your flesh. Now coated in blood, you cried out and ripped the shards out, piece by piece. Blood pooled around your foot as you cradled it.

"Oh my god, are you okay?!"

The behemoth above looked down at you with a horrified expression, his hands out and wanting to hold you.

"I hate to see you suffering without me! Why would you do something like that to yourself?!"

His voice was full of panic and concern, and for a moment it seemed wholesome, until the panicked silence became one of anger. There was...tension.

"You would...rather die...than be with me...?"

His tone had shifted so quickly. He was unpredictable, and that's what had made him so...scary. In general, he had looked like he crawled from a 1940s horror series. Sweeney Todd had come to mind, actually...

"You're just another whore, aren't you?" He growled out, only to sigh, like this was a normal occurrence. "It's quite alright, darling. A good man can turn a whore into a house wife...and I have faith in us. Let me just..."

The elevator roared to life, and you panicked even more, now. Your poor heart would likely kill you before he had the chance to. But as you rose, he merely hummed to himself, waiting for the elevator to rise to his floor.

You had no chance at moving or escaping, as when you reached the proper floor, he was quick to grab you before you became sandwiched between the top of the elevator and the ceiling.

He dwarfed you. Instantly. He carried you bridal style, an eerie smile on his face, "Come, now. I must make sure you look perfect for our wedding."

You had no chance, now.

He clicked his tongue, footsteps hard against the rotting boards, and his voice was quieter as he spoke, "And I need to wrap up your foot...you are a silly one, darling."

It didn't feel silly. It felt like your ankle and foot were on fire, stinging like mad.

You had accepted your death already, but if there was also one thing you could accept, it's that he wasn't actually half bad.

Minus the...anger fits and the "whore" bit, he would have been wonderful. Looking up at him, you see a man soiled by corruption.

His eyes would have been a beautiful, shiny blue if not for the pools of hemorrhage. They had looked...empty. Dead. But whenever he looked at you, they shone like his soul had been revived.

Is this what he had wanted? Love?

Everyone in this hell hole had been deprived of it.

It was sad. Really fucking sad.

But you had read about what Eddie had done, and seen it too. And he was past the point of no return. He had done too much to be redeemed.

Dread made itself a home in your stomach as you were laid upon something cold and wet, and you were strapped in. Arms and legs spread, and your clothes were ripped off.

You were now nude, and being touched by the Groom himself.

His hands were gentle as he caressed a calf, "You have such soft skin...you will look absolutely beautiful," he cooed, hand gliding itself upwards toward your knee, then your thigh, and then...

You only flinched when you felt his hand begin to caress your genitals, as gentle as could be, as if he wasn't violating you. T'was the touch of a lover.

But he was no lover, no.

His fingertips merely grazed along your private flesh, rubbing it as if he had wanted to stimulate you, and you wanted to scream.

Eddie sighed dreamily, like he was a married man and his life would be filled with nothing but happiness, and he, luckily, let his hand glide up to your navel. "You look divine already, but when I'm finished with you? Oh, darling..."

He removed his hand, thankfully, but he was quick to turn on the saw, and all you could feel was cold air from its rapid movements and doom.

He gripped the sides of the table you were on, and he was smiling like this wasn't totally fucked up, "I know this will be hard..."

You felt the table move, slowly but surely, and you began to wriggle, but he continued, "You will have to deal with this...and then the conception, which I promise, will be wonderful," he winked as the saw came closer, "Then the pregnancy...and oh, I can just imagine the birthing. You will look so beautiful, darling...like a goddess. Mothers are goddesses in their own right."

And all you could feel was the sting of the saw, and your soul fading from your body.

...

"You're just like the rest. Filthy whore."

You're lucky you weren't alive to see your mangled body, tossed with the rest.

Ready to rot.

Drabble idea: "I want to go home..."

Val, in a sense, had been an angel to you.

They did not have a halo, made of purity and gold, or have pristine, white wings to wrap you and hold you close, no. They did not bear robes of white or play a golden harp or sing a divine chorus.

But they had wanted you all to themselves. And they would not let Knoth's guard dog, or his sickly bastards he called "friends", ruin you before they had a chance to.

Because unlike Knoth, or Marta, or Laird or Nick or whoever the fuck, Val would put you back together.

They are a loving mother, dedicated to spreading love.

It had been painted in blood on your way to the mines, 'LOVE SET US FREE'. Bottles encasing candles, bodies strewn up like Christmas decorations...

What were they trying to do, exactly? Make their cause look homey? Elegant? Acceptable?

You had felt oddly welcomed. Every single enemy in your way was slain, journals and notes left in your path to urge you to come to them.

"Come to me," the red ink beckoned you on the dirtied paper, "and I will show you my love."

They had been so kind as to leave batteries and bandages. Before you had taken the small, makeshift raft, a final note had been placed in one of the small shacks, the bed made and smelling of firewood,

"I am waiting for you."

You did not want this. But you needed to find a way out.

The mines were not welcoming. You were not alone. And you had been chased into the underground, where you are now; held down by Heretics as they muttered, "mother, burn..."

Like the fallen angel ready to relieve the sinners of their pain, their martyrdom, Val had approached, coated in mud and looking like the demon of the mountains.

In their hand was a torch, raging with fire, and it made their white eyes so much more intense.

They had hummed eagerly, the hum evolving into a laugh as the torch was placed down and the Heretics were shooed away. You were too afraid to move or notice their cold, dirtied hands leaving your flesh.

Their eyes were wide, pupils tiny, and they smiled as they strutted to you, "We are creatures of appetite..."

They moaned, feeling up their body and their fake breasts, like they were a porn star and giving you a show.

"I want to feel your hunger," their voice became quiet, something only you could hear, and they leaned close, your eyes staring frantically into theirs, searching for any fragment of humanity.

There was none. And you felt saddened, knowing that the Val in those journals was not this Val.

This was something different.

"I want to know your desires...and show you what true pleasure feels like," they rasped, pushing you down and straddling your hips, grinding against your clothed stomach. Your fear had aroused them.

"I want to go home..." you whispered, tears rushing from your eyes, and they only laughed, leaning close to your face and whispering, "This is your home, my love," a muddy hand came up to caress your cheek and wipe the tears away, "and I...will be doting."

You had no chance to respond or even acknowledge the powder blown into your senses, or the tongue forcing your mouth open, and immediately, they sought dominance over your own muscle, wrestling with it. It had ventured to each nook and cranny of your mouth, like they wanted to taste everything about you, and they eventually pulled away with a moan, saliva connecting you two.

They licked their lips, humming in delight as their hands rushed to push up your shirt and reveal your chest. "Your body...is delightful," they breathed out, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples with precision.

That powder did something to you. You had hated the feeling of their hands, but now you were overheating; desperate and quiet moans leaving your throat and making the cultist above you grin.

"I don't..." You couldn't even finish your sentence, as they pinched a nipple and made you shriek. It made them chuckle, and their hands moved south, ripping your zipper and breaking it. They got off for a second to completely rip your pants and undergarments off, and their naked thighs wrapped around your bare hips.

"Did you enjoy my gifts?" They questioned, hands now massaging your thighs, "You needed those batteries so badly...to document the lies of Sullivan, didn't you?" They purred, their hands tight and knowing just where to touch to get you to cry out in pleasure.

"That's why you came here. Fell from the sky, wrapped in flame..." they bit their lip, feeling aroused at the notion, "To record his bullshit."

You had even forgot about your camera, and you questioned where it was, until Val snorted, "It's gone, my love," their hands moved upwards to your genitals, "taken away...by my children. You won't need it anymore."

There was no pain when you felt their finger enter you. It was more pleasurable than anything you had ever felt, and it made you moan the loudest, and Val had revelled in this.

With precision their fingers located your pleasure spot, and sped up.

Your pleasure was their pleasure.

"God doesn't love you...not like I do."

And in time...you would know it to be true.

[memory-and-sky]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIII MATT HOW YA DOING SWEETHEART?

I saw that you wanted requests and decided to jump in on that 💗

How about Hobie x reader where they are on patrol and reader just drops the most philosophical sentence just out of the blue and Hobie is like

Wtf how are you the most interesting and smart person ever?

Would that be nice? If not feel free to ignore dude

(PS: drink water and take care of yourself 💗 love ya)

this is such an awesome request, thank you for this! i took a few creative liberties, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless :3 !!

word count: ~700

containing: swearing, mentions of death/dying (nothing too in-depth), not quite dating but a little more than friends, hobie x gn!reader, just talking about stuff on a roof together

the rest of the fic is under the cut!

philosophical shit. hobie x gn!reader

(aka what i think about past 9pm)

You and your work partner, Hobie, had just gotten done containing another malicious anomaly in some random universe.

The sun was just beginning to set, though, and you thought you'd stay until it fully settled, until the stars came out. Then you’d clock out and go home.

It was a gorgeous, clear evening. You felt the cool wind blow through your hair as you sat on the top of a decently tall building, glad to be mostly done with your work for the day.

Suddenly, you heard an all too familiar voice from behind you. "Mind if I join ya, mate?"

It was Hobie, of course.

"Sure. Thought you were heading back now, though.." You craned your neck, and leaned back to look at Hobie as he walked over to sit next to you.

"Soundin' like ya don' wan' me around, love." He chuckled to himself, sitting down cross-legged, and gazing out into the colourful sky with you.

It was beautiful. Your universe was never really this pretty.

"Wasn't half bad back there, eh?"

"You or me? I think I did most of the work there." You offered a small smile.

Hobie laughed. "Fuck off, ya wanker. Seemed equal 'cause I had to save your sorry arse. Shoulda given me so much as a plain 'thanks, 'obie' 'n I'd be chuffed."

You sighed, looking down as you fidgeted with your hands. Looking back up at the changing sky, you couldn't help but think of what could've happened, had Hobie not been there to save you.

I mean, you could've probably handled it, but what if you didn't?

"You know, I always have felt sort of unhappy with myself. My life, and whatever. Whenever something like that happens, it always scares the shit out of me and makes me think about dying a lot more vividly and realistically."

You shift to lay down on your back, arms supporting your head. "Fuck, for all I know that could be my canon event... dying. It really fuckin' puts stuff into perspective. The whole canon events thing, I mean. How am I supposed to live life freely, and even just normally, when I know there's a goddamn model that a computer came up with that already dictates my entire life, birth to death? How am I important at all?"

Hobie stared at you, eyes a little wide, a little slack-jawed at your intelligent, observant remarks.

"Christ, ya good, mate?" He chuckled, regaining his usual smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered onto his stupidly attractive face. "Gettin' a bit serious there, yeah? Thought I lost ya for a sec. But, love, I do see what ya mean. 'S quite hard to feel like 'ur in control when 'ur entire bloody life seems planned out. Y'know, canon ain't always right, though. I didn't go through tha' whole stereotypical 'officer savin' a li'l kid' event, so 's able to be changed somewhat."

He shrugged, messing with a loose thread on his pants absentmindedly.

You nodded, resting your hands on your stomach. "Yeah… I know. I just feel like I'm stuck in a cage and I can't do anything about it until I'm dead."

"Mm, don' we all, love.." Hobie shifted over to grin down at you. He seriously tried to play it cool, but he was freaking out, and totally all nerves on the inside. You sounded so smart and educated, this whole interaction totally came out of left field.

Which was more than welcome, fuck, Hobie would be the first to admit that he loved discussing things like this with you. You were so confident in your words, and more importantly, how you said them, and it made you even more beautiful in his eyes. If that was even possible.

He adored every part of you.

Your dorky smile, all your imperfections… Hobie loved that you didn’t hide them and didn’t let people tell you shit, and just your whole personality... it'd take him forever and a day to list everything that he loved about you.

Especially now, you looked artistically beautiful. Like a painting, with all the warm colours swirling around you, illuminating your skin and basking you in the fleeting sunlight.

"Oh, Hobie,"

"Hm?" He snapped out of scanning every aspect and detail of you for a moment.

You leaned into him after sitting straight up, closer and closer, and then pecked his cheek. "Thanks."

All Hobie's blood rushed up straight to his cheeks, and he offered nothing but a blank stare, an awkward laugh, and a light touch to where you kissed.

"Y-yeah, mate... f'course,"

[kerubimcrepin]

An analysis of the most important scene between Kerubim and Joris.

Aka, Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 7]

While Kerubim does want to help and care for Lilotte, he draws a line at getting Joris into a dangerous situation. He's mad at both of them for this stunt.

Joris isn't a kid who acts out or disobeys that often, so seeing Kerubim this pissed off is... very rare. Especially with that anger directed at him.

To make the argument less severe, he tries to present Kerubim with his new achievements in something that is important to him. So that maybe some semblance of pride for him, will get Kerubim to be less mad.

Kerubim shuts him down without any explanation, despite knowing how important sport is to Joris because the stress of Joris being in danger, and also deciding to be ~rebellious~ on this day of all days, is genuinely frying his brain.

But from Joris's pov, he's just being shitty. Just really shitty.

Yet, it is important to note, that at first, he goes along, and leaves Khan. Joris isn't really rebellious as a person.

Another thing that goes deeply wrong with this argument is Kerubim snapping at Joris's idol. Now, he has basically implied that both one of Joris's main interests, and someone Joris loves and looks up to, are worthless to him.

We know that's not what Kerubim means. Kerubim is terrified, and the terror made him angry at Joris, for scaring him further.

Chances are, when he got home and found nobody, his first thought wasn't that he and Lilotte ran away for boufbowl reasons.

But that devaluation is exactly what Joris hears.

The face journey Kerubim goes on in this shot is very interesting. I really do think Kerubim HATES Joris making up parents. He hates it because he knows the truth, and it hurts him, he hates it because he is his parent, and he hates it because feeling jealous of some imaginary constructs is just pathetic.

But he hasn't really said it out loud because fine, whatever, it's normal for a child to make things up. Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Doesn't mean he doesn't think it's stupid, and that it isn't maddening to have this brought up when his mom is hunting them down and might hurt him.

However, Kerubim is a hypocrite:

"Making up stories" is something Kerubim has done for 10 years, and the fact that half of them are redacted, censored, or just actually made up, is something Joris accepts, — even values.

"Rules for thee, but not for me," is how Kerubim sounds while complaining about this.

And he's neglected to, uhhh... read Joris's mind to understand the yet unvoiced truth:

Joris despises many things about the way Kerubim treats him.

He wants Kerubim to stop touching him whenever he wants to, he wants him to stop calling him whatever the hell he wants, and he wants him to stop lying.

He would never say this out loud unless he was this mad, because he knows that it will upset Kerubim, and he doesn't want that, because the man is the only family he has, and he's already depressed.

Kerubim doesn't want him to ever grow up into an adult, become independent, and move out. He likes Joris cute, huggable, "doesn't say no to anything I do to him"-ish, and dependant, because that way, he won't leave Kerubim alone. He isn't exactly subtle about what he wants from Joris, and the only thing Joris can do about this, is just feel angry silently.

This is especially poignant, because we know Joris doesn't look his age, even as a ten-year-old. He gets treated like a small child, both inside and outside his own home.

Joris, of all the people in the whole world, yelling at him, is how Kerubim understands that he fucked up badly. It's over. It's more than over — he didn't just bomb this conversation, he nuked it.

Joris yelling at him is like a canary in a mine dying. He really hurt him this time.

What follows is, quite honestly, one of the most important moments for Joris as a character. These are things he says angrily, just to hurt Kerubim as much as possible, — yet there's a grain of truth to all of this, they are Joris's actual, real thoughts on their life, just wrapped up in anger.

Joris correctly identifies and attacks Kerubim's three biggest insecurities, — Joris leaving him, his own failures as a father, and their relationship being built on lies from the very beginning.

I think Joris has thought a lot on the ethics of their situation. Kerubim isn't his biological father so... who exactly gave him the right to raise Joris in these conditions, and take advantage of him for the sake of not feeling lonely and unwanted? I am sure, these are thoughts Joris chastised himself for, and yet...

This is the worst thing Kerubim has heard in the last ten to twenty years. This is his nightmare scenario. Did he miss all these signs that Joris was thinking these things? He hates himself. He just hates himself.

Joris attacks his weaknesses with a precision only a family member can possess.

This is his worst nightmare. And all he can manage to do is fulfil one of Joris's wishes: call him by his actual name, like an equal.

And he really did try to raise him as an equal. Like a best friend. And he failed. Because that's an unattainable goal.

[littlesliceofimmortality]

hey henry i was going through ur circus au tag and i was wondering do u have any lore for this specific au??? im VERY curious i really like the designs esp mingus and norm (worlds most predictable phrase) :-)

HII MICH :-) smile! my circus au started as "lol wouldnt it be funny if cowboys instead of clowns were a separate species & went extinct". & now it makes me sick

ITS NOT EVENthat much different than the canon story ingame!!!! its just flashier & showy-er & LOUD. mingus demands attention, especially. her being a lioness does in fact mean callum had a pet lion. Alot wrong with him

she had callums ringleader outfit retailored to fit her, fun fact! (shes VERY large, almost scraping 7ft). its different cloth though & the gold studs had to be replaced & coattails needed lengthening & etc... so maybe it really isnt the same

(GINGIs made up of the same cloth as callum, however! the original CIRCUS tent, with polka dots and all !!! and who am i to argue that callum didnt embody the entire city of dialtown?) (mingus is very mad about this fact & actively denounces it)

rather than living on the outskirts of town, norm was found as a lone ranger out in the open prairies of Wisconsin (i cant elaborate here. thats another rant & theres too many parenthesis already) . instead of being immediately executed As is normal procedure, mingus recognizes him as a fragment of history & essentially forces him to join the ragtag rundown circus she runs

since dialtown is already a group of misfits, not many of the cast oogled at the new rodeo clown (it was a HUGE fight on what he'd "star as", & mingus finally relented to him keeping the cowboy hat & paper bag) (if he acts up she threatens to categorize him as a "freak show" and shred his bag)

mingus doesnt treat him as a thing with feelings alot of the time & moreso a thing to help get her pawpaw back. since right now hes. kind of a statue. shes opened up & put back together his head so many times & had to repair him & ward off rust so often that now ALL of his head is golden. not patchworked, but rather, polished

the city is only KNOWN as a city & NOT a travelling circus anymore is because of this, actually. its too much work to transport callum around in the state he is. so mingus dug her heels in & hammered in the tent poles hard. immovable force. not going anywhere til she can step down & let her pawpaw lead again

he was objectively better at it, anyhow. she knows this but WILL bite you if you say it to her face. callum was a magician too, after all! had tricks up his sleeve. much sneakier when hes pulling strings behind the curtains. he had his "assistant" too (aka the other half of the entire show) , which mingus TRIES to replicate, which... i love tango, but nobody can compare to marla

all of this is very upsetting to norm. everything about it, really. worst anyones ever done it. however hes just as stubborn as mingus and will NOT be used as a tool! (thats the ONLY reason, trust) (theres totally nothing about how he'd rather idolize crown in his mind & is a little terrified of whatd happen if he came back & saw the state of everything)

[canonically47]

Dawn of the Final Review

DISVENTURE CAMP: ALL-STARS - THE FINAL REVIEW, AKA: THANK FUCK IT'S OVER!!!

SPOILERS!!! (no duh.)

this is a very long ramble btw. so so long. be aware!

the scene of marcus and nina in the cave was so useless i almost laughed. nina's delivery was so bad i giggled

tom's little shake was so fun, it's too bad the entirety of DSVC is in the same exact total drama style and ever took any fun creative liberties with their animation like those

thank you ONC for making the entirety of ashley's arc revolve around jake and his relationship drama, i totally wasn't interested in learning more about her. that half-assed background story does not make her deeper and in fact makes her appear even more shallow. your priorities are obvious and your treatment of your female characters is disgusting.

yay huntally!! so glad they got development as well! they were so fun for the whole time they argued

"you grew more than anyone here" ONC trying to make us think anyone had a worthy arc is laughable, but ALLY, GROWING AS A PERSON??? BAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH

"i'm sorry for being insufferable sometimes" "sometimes?" realest hunter moment ever

huntessally moment :( this is what we could've had :( fuck you genuinely ONC

ELLIE MOMENT ELLIE MOMENT ELLIE MOMENT IT'S ELLIE IT'S ELLIE TIME OMG I LOVE YOU ELLIE MY BELOVED ELLIE I LOVE YOU ELLIE ELLIE ELLIE

ew ally I MEAN yay ally... ally development moment... this is not at all half-assed or uninteresting...

LMFAOAOOAOAOAOAOOAOAOAO riya having nobody interested

ALEC MOMENT ALEC MOMENT ALEC MOMENT YAYAYAYAYYAYA ALEC ALEC ALEC

jake not choosing tom was fucking HILARIOUS. thank you jake

ewewewewewew why tom ewew ew why the fucking puppy eyes.. you're a grown ass man.... why is ashley entertaining this.. ONC WHY DO YOU FUCKING WRITE LIKE THIS

"why is this the most stressful thing i've ever done?" cuz you're a fucking idiot???

oh the poor patreons that waste their money on this shit :// sorry guys, my condolences again!! <33

this is going to be so historically inaccurate i can feel it

ok strong start, interesting premise

GO TEAM JAKE

i just know they put them in these costumes for fan service... they're so historically inaccurate it hurts like.. actually

YAOI MOMENT??? I BEG YOUR FINEST FUCKING PARDON???????

ONC trying to be hip with the kids is crazy

alellie crumbs omg i miss you dynamic duo

"don't waste your time being my shields" that's...that's their job.....??????????

alec would NOT back down from that

OMG OMGOMGOGMG FIORE FIORE MOMENT FATHER-DAUGHTER MOMENT I'M CRYING

OMGOMGOMG THE WAY ALEC GRABBED HER I'M GOING TO SOB

"YOU COULD'VE BEEN KILLED" "okay, now i'm hurt" MY LOVELIESSSSSSS I'M SOBBINGNGNNGNGNG I MISSED THEM SO MUCHHHHH WAHHHHHHHH

i'm ignoring what's happening to continue ranting about them I LOVE THEM SO MUCHHCHCHCHCH

YES ALEC GO KING

FIORE IS AN ICON

THEY'RE BOTH AAAAAAAAAAURHGHGHGHGH

WHAT IF I SOBBEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

YESSS GABBY MOMENT GABBY MOMENT I LOVE YOU GABBY GABBY MOMENT

not to be a bitch but this is kind of the most boring finale ever, they're not actively doing anything, they're just trying not to get hit, it's annoying how they're not actually like. having to work for this actively

oh my god riya i will kill you

GABBY NOOOOOOO

i love how the scar is totally inaccurate

OH MY GOD TOM ARE YOU OKAY

jake run tf are you doing

...............oh.

riya you are a MOTHERFUCKER.

GO OFF ELLIE

i fucking love you gabellie

i love how nobody is volunteering to help riya, at least ONC know how hated she has become both in and out of the show

"i just didn't think riya would go out of her way to screw me over" "do you hear yourself?" realest tomjake moment ever

urhghghghgh i just had to say tomjake moment...

EW WHAT WAS THAT SHUSHING...

they're disgusting. not for being gay but for being allo

TREMILY MOMENT!!!

what was that face trevor made lmao they couldn't afford a :3 face or what

ELLIE AND JAKE MOMENT?????

FUUUUUUUUUUCK YEAAAAAAAAA

THEY'RE SO BACK THEY'RE SO BACK THEY'RE SO BACK

yay finally they're actually doing something! we all know jake is winning come on it's kids cartoon logic that the one without the upgrade always wins

GO JAKEEE !!!

OMG BOTH HIS BOYFRIENDS CHEERED ON HIM JAJAKEDEN REAL <333

...aaand he's down. strong... start.......???

alec with his hand on fiore's shoulder :( <3

YAY GO JAKE!!!

the slow-motion looks so goofy lol

YAY JAKE

LMFAO HUNTER WITH THE 😃👍

sorry jake's wheezing is so funny to me

JAKEEE GET UP PLEASE GET UP

MAN FUCK TOM JUST GET UP

i hate how they panned to ashley after that, like yasss tell us her only role was being jake's bff !!!

"friendship speeches" she hates tomjake more than me iconic

FUCK HER UP JAKE

FUCK HER UPPPPP

NO

PLEASE. DO NOT.

.....oh my god.

oh. my god.

they actually did that.

...what the fuck.

jake :(

jake... what the fuck his whining is getting to me fuck i love him so much he's :(((

NOBODY IS HAPPY FOR HER I'M SO GLAD

"another incredible season" yeah sure

ugh whatever at least it's over who cares

oh yay wishley! who the fuck cares.

FIORE AND ALEC HOW I LOVE YOU SO <333

OMGGG LAKE AND JAIDEN <333

man yk what fuck it, i'll be the bigger person and admit tomjake was cute this episode. it doesn't take away from the fact that they fucking sucked all season, but it gives them some points in my mind. maybe in another universe ONC could've actually written them well from start to finish, but for now, i'll take my crumbs and admit i can fid them somewhat cute

not letting go of arospec tom though. never.

sobbing /pos <333333333

crazy how they got three polycules in the same shot woah. huntessally, tomjajakeden & gabgrellie real?!??!?!?!?!!!

they're literally girlfriends

FUCK YES CONNOR

YES STAND YOUR GROUND MY MAN

"i won" "was it worth it?" FUCK. YES. FUCK!! YES!!!!

"have a nice life, riya." THIS IS THE ENDING YOU DESERVE BITCH

HELL YESSS HELL YES HELL YEAH FUCK YES

not even mad she won !!! bc at least they despise her

yay quit i do't want more seasons

why is oliver so pressed

"the producers won't cancel the show if you leave" FUCK.

ughhh trevek again...

HOLY SHIT ROSA MARIA AND SOFIA

OH MY GOD LILL AND NICK??? HELLO??? HELL-FUCKING-O???

OH MY GOD :((( THIS SEGMENT :(((

OWHWUWUWHWHW... HUNTALLY...

TOMJAKE AND MIRIAM...

OH GRETT...

ORUHGHGHGHGHGH FIORE AND ALEC ALEC SHAVED :(( ALEC SHAVED :((((( HE MOVED ON FINALLY

lmao fuck you riya

wanna bet eesha will be in the next season

oh.. the soft piano.... it's........doing something to me......................

THEY PUT TREVEK MISSING TRUMP IN THE CREDITS LMFAOAOOAOAOA

crazy how i've seen like.. all this fanart.... i fw this fandom heavy

JAKEDEN IN THE CREDITS WE WON

JAKEDEN TWICE WE WON FR

sigh. so, it's over! i definitely have a lot of... mixed feelings on this season. as you've noticed if you've kept up with my reviews, i constantly went from loving it, to hating it, to despising it with every fiber of my being, to liking it, to disliking it, and then repeating that cycle numerous times in different orders.

disventure camp: all-stars was definitely bad. sadly, no amount of sweet piano music and decently-written moments will make me forget how much i have become frustrated with this show. i would not recommend this show to anyone purely because of DCAS and its surprisingly bad quality. the writing was inconsistent and messy, the character arcs felt forced and with little to no pay-off, the ships were badly handled, the female characters were always, without fail, put down or cast aside for the male characters, the WLW couple was brushed off for the MLM ones, and so forth.

disventure camp is imperfect in every way, but i will acknowledge the fact that it is made with love (because it's not care that's for sure SORRY, sorry i'll be nice). even though i joke about how i feel bad for the patreons or those that genuinely like it and do not see its flaws, i still find myself attached to this show. i can understand why others would be, too. as a writer, i can never brush past their many, many mistakes, but i will admit they have their good moments.

they have the occasional character that escapes their wrath - jake, for example, was probably the best character this season. i've seen many complain about him because they were unable to let go of their biases, but i genuinely believe he was phenomenal. after spending so much time stuck in the same mindset, he managed to grow as a person. he befriended aiden, he got over & forgave tom, and hey, he got the boy back. their ending also makes me feel hopeful for their spin-off, even though i wish they had never gotten one because there are much more interesting characters worth exploring.

grett's arc was close to being as great as jake's, but ONC cannot really write female characters. i guess they're listening to fresh TV's teachings? she had her moments, but she was held back from true greatness. she deserved to make finale, if not win - but that's maybe biased so i'll just leave it at this lol

we got some fun friendships this season, such as ashley & jake, grett & gabby, connor & alec, and i am trying so hard to be positive right now and ignore that two of them were ruined/not carried out to their full potential because of relationship drama

okay, super positive time, I FUCKING LOVE THAT FIORE AND ALEC MADE UP. OKAY. I WAS STARTING TO LOSE HOPE SO BADLY THAT THE BEAST ALMOST MADE ME INTO A TREE (hi corn are you proud i made a OTGW reference. love u corn) BUT ALAS I CUT MYSELF FREE BECAUSE FUCK YES WE GOT THEM BACK!!! WE GOT THEM BACK!!!!!!!!!! I'M SO HAPPYYYYYYYYY <333 <333 <333

their development was probably the best relationship development in this season and i am SO. HAPPY YOU GUYS. oh my GOD. i missed them SOOO BADLY <333 that last episode REALLY fed us alec & fiore father-daughter nation holy shit i love them

i really wish things were... so, so different this season. i wanted to see actual growth in characters and relationships, less petty drama and more actual strategy, and, you know, for the winner to not be the second-placing person from the second season. that. that was bad. we can all agree that despite everyone hating on her it was bad right. like that. should not have been the ending

i wish some characters hadn't just come back to be vessels for drama. ashley and connor were only there for the development of jake and riya respectively and it kills me how obvious it is. the only reason i dislike ashley is because all she is, is jake's bff who played a small part in getting him with tom. her entire role is just to be there for a gay ship. that SUCKS.

huntessally should've also been a bigger part of the season and have gotten together. i will never not be mad about ONC not giving us the polyamorous rep they kept teasing. because c'mon why confirm them all as mspec and promote them together in social media and pride posts if you just made ally & hunter the couple and not all of them together. i mean sure i'm okay with them being '''just''' friends, not everything has to be romantic & having even MORE allos on this show would've been exhausting but. huntessally :(((

ALEC SHOULD'VE BEEN IN THE FINALE there i said my bias there it is. also fun fact before DCAS my choice for the winner was actually tom. uh now i don't even like the guy so. yea i wish we had gotten a grett-alec and someone else other than riya finale with alec winning. he deserved it before they ruined him for that tiny bit but it's okay we don't talk about it

the finale gets 7/10 and, overall, DCAS gets a 4/10. not enough decent points to get it the, if you will, passing grade. again, i will never recommend it to anyone ever. i tried to be positive - and truly there are some things i like about this show! all that screaming i did above over gabellie, fiore & alec and so forth was real excitement i promise !! - but it's a fucking trainwreck.

for my sake, i hope i do not watch disventure camp season 4. i'm probably not leaving the fandom indefinitely, i will still lurk and maybe if i get any ideas post some fic fixing this show cuz god knows we need it, but yeah. when season 4 comes out, i'm officially out of the picture. i will hopefully never rewatch the first three seasons and if i do, it should be years in the future when i will have no emotional attachment to the characters and thus not be disappointed by how bad the show is.

sooo i guess i'll still be around for a while but i will NOT be watching any new content ever. for my sake. i hope you can understand if you wanted me to share any thoughts on the spin-offs or such lol

well, this has truly been a journey. i'd be lying if i said i hated every moment of it, but i definitely did not enjoy it for the most part. however, constantly getting asks about the show - and getting to interact with you all over on @disventure-rewrite-takes - has made this so, so fun. i'll be making a separate post on the rewrite takes account about what will happen next to it :)

thank you review anon for the asks, you have been amazing, i really appreciated you coming out every other week and requesting my review, it was so so kind of you <3

thanks to the anons on the rewrite takes blog, i'll get into more detail there when i officially drop the account though, so no sappy stuff juuuust yet but tysm for being a blast you guys!!

and also friendship wins so shoutout corn @cornfields-td-nonsense for being the best and ranting & rambling with me about the episodes, leaving fun asks on the rewrite blog, and just overall putting up with me. i love you man, you're great, and i love exchanging interests, ideas, reviews, and such, roleplaying with you is awesome and i'm so grateful you listen to me yap yap yap like crazy, you're amazing and again i love you !!!!!!

so yay! disventure camp! ....i am so glad it's over holy shit it's a weight off my chest.

we're back in the sanders sides phase and i have no idea how to end this so i'll just do it thomas style no matter how cringe it is IDC HOW CRINGE IT IS!!!!!!!!!! so until next time, take it easy guys gals and non-binary pals, and PEACE OUTTTTTT <33333

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 7: The Dream

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer sleeps, then wakes.

Read chapter 7 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3 I would love to know what you like about the story :)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

“Why me?”

Spencer blinked.

His head was spinning. He could have sworn he heard a voice.

“You're still worried about hearing voices?” the voice answered. “Seriously, man, why did you come to me? Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help. Just would’ve figured you’ve got better people to do this with.”

He looked up. A familiar face hovered above him, dancing in and out of his vision.

“What are you doing here?” asked Spencer.

He tried to sit up but his body was glued to the surface beneath him. He jerked forward but he couldn't pull himself free.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” said Ethan with a raised eyebrow.

He was on the shabby couch in Ethan’s small New Orleans apartment. He finally managed to pry himself loose and drag himself into a sitting position. The air was wet cement. The walls of the apartment expanded and contracted like lungs.

“I have nowhere else to go,” Spencer explained.

“Bullshit,” said Ethan. “You’ve got a whole team of people who care about you and plenty of savings to pay your way through a private rehab facility, and instead you’re sweating it out on the couch of some guy you’ve talked to all of once in the last half-decade.”

“Fine. If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” spat Spencer. "I wouldn't want to drag you down with my problems."

He tried to stand, but his wrists were tied with rough rope. The smell of rotting fish was thick in the air.

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” said Ethan affectionately. “It’s good to see you, though I wish for your sake it was under better circumstances. Besides," he pointed out, "you couldn’t get further than the front door without puking up half your body weight right now.”

Spencer pulled at his bound wrists. “Untie me!” he demanded. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I'm not doing anything, Spencer. You’ve done this to yourself.”

“It’s not my fault!” he yelled, the smell of the rot turning his stomach. “I didn’t have a choice. I said no, I tried to stop it, I did everything I was supposed to do.”

The bindings wrapped tighter, snaking around his abdomen and up to his neck. They constricted around his throat painfully.

“How long before you can’t use that excuse anymore?” asked Ethan snidely, a tone that Spencer had rarely heard from him. “How many months after you killed Tobias before you finally admitted it wasn't him that kept sticking those needles in your arm? Fuck, man, 16 years later and you're more of a junkie than you've ever been. Whose making you do it this time?"

“Fuck you,” he growled. “You abandoned me! You left your whole future behind to go be a drunk in New Orleans. You have no right to judge me."

“You never asked me to stay.”

“You never cared what I wanted!”

“What? You wanted me to stay in the Academy? Join the BAU with you? Have a magical life getting kidnapped and tortured and hooked on drugs together? Spend romantic evenings in hotel rooms looking at photos of mutilated bodies?"

Spencer pulled against the restraints again, and again they resisted. "I never said that. I never wanted that. You were my only real friend and I was worried you were throwing your life away," he explained. "That's all."

Suddenly, Ethan was knelt beside him. He was laying down on the couch again. The ropes that had entangled him melted away. He was shaking, sweating, the cushions were a bed of nails beneath him. Ethan shushed him gently, wiping a cool cloth over his forehead. “You’re gonna be alright. I’m glad you came to me.”

Spencer blinked hard.

He stared into Ethan’s gentle eyes. “I don’t think I’m getting out of this alive,” he admitted in a whisper. “I need my friends to be safe. They have to make it out, no matter what happens to me.”

“Do you think we could have had something?” asked Ethan as if he hadn’t heard Spencer talk. “If the world wasn't such a fucked up place for anyone a little too different, do you think we would’ve had a chance at something real?”

Spencer swallowed down a painful lump in his throat. “I don’t know.”

“We could try now,” said Ethan, putting a hand on his cheek. “Maybe this is our chance.”

“That’s not what you said,” Spencer breathed. “I remember. This isn’t how it happened. You helped me, then we said goodbye, and we never talked about any of this.”

“But it’s what you wanted me to say.”

“No.” Spencer rolled over on the thin mattress. Ethan knelt beside him in the brightly lit bunker. “That's not what I wanted.”

“Then why are you here?” asked Ethan. Spencer didn’t look at him. “You spent so long scared of losing your mind, you didn't even realize you never had it to begin with.”

Ethan’s hand enveloped Spencer’s. Their fingers intertwined.

When Ethan’s hand pulled away, there was a cool, smooth object left behind.

“I know what you want,” said Ethan.

Spencer looked down at his hand.

A loaded syringe rested on his palm.

He stared up at Ethan, who had drifted to the back of the cavernous, concrete room. The buzz of the fluorescent lights echoed, and the blinking red camera sat at the periphery of his vision no matter which direction he looked.

“I don’t want it,” said Spencer desperately, holding the syringe of swirling gas aloft.

“You've never wanted anything more than this.”

When he looked again, Ethan was gone.

He looked down at his arm. It was unmarked, smooth and fresh without even the faintest hint of old, scarred over track marks. It hadn’t looked like that since Georgia. There was a tourniquet tied around his upper arm.

The needle was pressed against the crook of his elbow.

He breathed a deep sigh of relief. Every muscle in his body relaxed. The world was about to be right again.

He placed his thumb on the plunger, depressing it slowly like he had a thousand times before.

The gas traveled up through the veins in his arm, making its way closer and closer to his heart.

Something was wrong. He coughed. He felt the gas spreading inside him, burning everything it touched.

His throat was raw and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't catch his breath. He gasped for air, but got none.

What had he done? What had he done to himself? He was never going to breath again and it was all his fault!

Then: Awake.

His eyes burned as he pried them slowly open. He flinched back against the light, blinking slowly in an attempt to adjust.

“Spence, it’s okay, we’re here,” came a soft voice from somewhere beside him.

A hand rubbed gentle circles on his back.

He finally managed to adjust to the horrible fluorescent light. JJ was leaning over him, staring at him with wide, worried eyes.

“You’ve been out for hours,” said Emily from somewhere nearby. “We’ve been checking your vitals and keeping an eye on you, but we didn’t want to force you awake.”

He looked up and saw the rest of them lingering behind JJ.

He could have cried from relief, and very nearly did.

“You’re all okay,” he said, closing his eyes tightly to stave off the tears.

Derek huffed a laugh. “You’re worried about us? Man, I was scared you were never going to wake up,” he said with a watery smile.

Spencer cringed. All at once, his senses lit up. The others leaned in with concern as his hand flew up to his throat, feeling for injury. He swallowed and tried to clear his throat, triggering a rough cough. After a second of coughing he had to fight back an immense wave of nausea.

“What’s wrong?” asked Hotch. “Are you injured?”

He shook his head helplessly. He rubbed at his throat and couldn’t feel any external signs of injury, but he felt as if he’d swallowed glass. “I don’t know.”

“Let me take a look,” he said, leaning past JJ and kneeling beside him.

Spencer pushed himself up into a sitting position on the hard concrete floor. Hotch reached out and touched his throat, looking at it intently and feeling for any signs of damage. He was gentle in a way that made Spencer think back to Jack’s seventh birthday party. He had fallen and grazed his knee and the only thing in the world that could have consoled him in that moment was his dad.

“I can’t see any signs of damage,” said Hotch, pulling his hands away. “It could be a side effect from the gas. You were out a lot longer than the rest of us. It’s possible you had a bad reaction.”

He could feel the tremor in his hands, the sweat beading on his brow. The swirling nausea. If felt like one of his worse comedowns, or like the tail end of detox. Except, that didn’t explain the pain in his throat.

“Not to mention, we don’t know how long we were all unconscious or what happened during that time,” said Derek, arms folded tightly across his chest, expression carefully controlled.

For the first time, Spencer noticed their clothes.

None of them were in the same clothes they’d been in when they first arrived. He looked down at himself. Light blue scrubs, like the kind you would see in a hospital. Crisp and clean.

His stomach dropped.

He was clean. His clothes had been changed. The Unsub had cleaned him. He touched his face, feeling the smooth skin along his jaw. She had even shaved him.

Another look at Derek and his stomach dropped even further. As freaked out as he was, he could only imagine what kind of feelings this was triggering for his friend.

Derek seemed to piece together what he was thinking. “I’m good,” he said firmly. “Don’t worry about me.”

That last part sounded less like a reassurance and more like a command.

Spencer let it drop. He was hardly in a position to judge anyone else for not sharing. It’s not as if this was a safe space for any of them to unpack their trauma.

He turned his attention to the rest of the bunker. The others backed up, giving him room to see.

Not that there was much to look at.

The mattresses were gone. Their little luxuries and amenities were gone. The entire bunker smelled strongly of disinfectant. He hated how much of a relief that was to him after the smell of mold.

Oh god. He groaned audibly when his eyes hit the empty doorway where the bathroom door had once been.

“Yep,” said Emily mournfully. “Still trying to process that loss.”

“Of all the experiences in prison I had hoped to never repeat again, this was pretty high on the list,” he said, voice raspy and raw but thankfully getting through the sentence without coughing. He looked to the rest of them. “Do any of you remember anything at all?”

All eyes flicked over to JJ. They had already had this discussion amongst themselves, it seemed.

“It’s difficult to say for sure,” she said cautiously. “I was pretty out of it, but I think I came to at one point. Wherever I was, it wasn’t here. And… I think I heard two voices. One feminine, one masculine.” Spencer nodded. They had speculated that their Unsub had an accomplice. She was likely the dominant one in the pair with a male companion who did her bidding. “They must have dosed me right afterwards, though. I don’t remember anything else,” she finished.

“We all have marks,” said Rossi. “Same as the ones we came in with. The gas would have knocked us out temporarily, but they must have used injections to maintain it. She doesn’t like to deviate her methods, it seems. Not surprising.”

Spencer felt the spot just behind his ear. It was easy to miss, but there was a tiny bump that was just a bit swollen.

“Do you think it’s the same formula as last time?” asked Derek with a raised eyebrow.

He mulled it over, a little irritated that he was becoming something of a human narcotic testing strip for them. Never mind that he had a PhD in chemistry. It was his expertise in being a junkie that gave them such faith in his ability to identify whatever drug cocktails they had all been injected with.

“I don’t know. If I’ve been unconscious as long as you say, then whatever was in my system is likely cleared out. All I know for sure is that I feel terrible.” He sighed. “It's likely. It would explain why-” he stopped to cough, trying to clear his throat, “- why I’m experiencing more acute withdrawal symptoms again.”

Though he would never admit it out loud to anyone, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being disappointed that he hadn’t been conscious to experience getting shot up. He was saddled with all of the horrible side effects, and he didn’t even get to experience the high. It felt unfair, and he knew exactly how pathetic it was that he felt that way.

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder, which surprised him. “You’ll be alright. It will pass faster this time,” he assured him.

Derek also gave him a sympathetic smile, though how sincere that sympathy was, Spencer wasn’t sure. He’d stopped commenting on it while they had all been stewing in filth together, but he knew he was still upset with him.

“Any speculation on the compound we were gassed with?” Derek asked. “I’ve never encountered a gas that can induce unconsciousness in a whole room full of people like that.”

Spencer perked up. This was a subject that was actually of some interest to him. “Contrary to what movies portray, incapacitating agents that can reliably induce non-lethal unconsciousness in an uncontrolled setting don’t exist. In the case of-” he coughed, struggling to speak through the pain, “-the Moscow theater siege in 2002, the Russian authorities rendered a theater of 800 people unconscious in order to stop a terrorist attack, using a Fentanyl derivative. It was extremely effective, yet 15% of the hostages died as a result of the gas. In our case, my guess would be that they used a compound with a substance similar to Halothane as the primary component.”

He took a break from speaking to double over and have a coughing fit in earnest, searing pain on the inside of his throat leaving him gasping for air. The others rushed to him, helping him as he curled up on the floor, struggling to breath.

Once he finally caught his breath, he looked back up at Hotch. He cleared his throat a couple of times, keeping his voice low and soft when he spoke.

“I think you were right about me having a bad reaction. Controlling the dose of an aerosolized anesthesia in a large space is nearly impossible. I was the last to get my mask on. I must have inhaled too much,” he ground out, stopping to suppress another coughing fit. “I think I was intubated.”

They all looked at him with wide eyes. It made sense. It would explain the pain in his throat. He must have gotten a big enough dose to cause toxicity and require temporary intubation. It would also explain why he was so much more affected than the others. Why he took so long to wake up.

It was difficult to read all of their expressions. He thought they looked upset. Horrified? Concerned? Afraid?

“This tells us something we didn’t know before,” said Emily, squaring her shoulders, refusing to dwell too long in a nightmare that none of them could even remember. “Access to that much Halothane, or any other powerful anesthetic, combined with the knowledge and skill to perform an intubation, means-”

“At least one of our Unsubs works in the medical field,” finished JJ.

“This is good,” said Rossi. “We did all of this to learn more, and it worked.”

Spencer looked around at the empty, cold concrete. He had the same thought that he was sure they all had.

Sure, it worked. But at what cost?

[doodle-do-wop]

@thesfromhms Jensi and Stina HCs! (heavily based on how I see Stina so forgive me but I brain rot over the Heks too much I practically know them better than Shannon does)

PART 1!!

Stina kind of brought a good chunk of the hate she gets onto herself by being a huge jerk (don't get me wrong she's my favorite but she's not blameless) at the very start, she has only let in a select few into her life (the two 'cronies') and that's it

She only put her thinking hat up once and only one time because she had seen her hat full of junk from people who didn't like her

She had walked away because she didn't want to give anyone who might've been waiting for her to see what had been done to her thinking cap the satisfaction

But when she had to come back for it at the end of the day she saw Jensi tossing out the last of what was in there and placing a single gift, the only gift she ever got that whole year

Honestly the most Stina could remember of Jensi up until that point was 'annoying' which like, is how she views most people. If they're not worth emotional investment they're not worth her time at all

But now she just sort of had him as a tiny dot on her radar (which, depending on who you ask could be a good or bad thing)

He got her a gift for both midterms and finals and he did also clean up her hat which he didn't have to do and it kind of stuck with her as the whole school practically started praying for her downfall like she was some epitome of evil in a 11-12 year olds body (this takes place back in Level 1)

Stina always found Jensi's big mouth and jittery energy a little annoying and nowadays she wonders if that was just her dormant empathy prodding at the surface and not liking the big waves of emotions

But he's also very sweet and friendly to even her which kind of throws her off cause she's A) constantly watching her back for a knife and B) allergic to affection

Once during a misfortunate splotcher matchup Stina absolutely mopped the floor with Jensi, painting him a very fitting green but Jensi is a good sport about it since he was kind of outclassed and went up to Stina to shake hands like pro splotchers do after matches and Stina looked at his green paint covered hand and made a really grossed out face but did Jensi take offense?

Nope

The boy shook his own hand and apologized since obviously no one wants to shake a paint covered hand

Stina never knows what to make of his friendly attitude so she just scoffed and turned away saying "whatever, get better" which technically wasn't an insult but also not the friendly 'gg' Jensi was going for but if it's not an insult it's practically a compliment

And encouragement to keep going forward and better himself!

Stina still thinks he's a weirdo

Since Shannon forgets background characters until she needs to fill up a lunchroom table for a scene Stina and Jensi have kind of been dancing around each other in a weird way

After befriending Maruca and Marella Stina's become a lot more open(Salute Maruca she did 90% of the work) but she's not open enough that she'd instantly be bffs with her whole classand buy everyone gifts for midterms and finals

But due to her slow opening of her shell Jensi had started to see small glimpses of Stina's soft side

Laughing genuinely at something Marella said at lunch, putting her hand between Maruca's head and the corner of a desk, closing the door for Marella's locker when Marella couldn't do it herself and even taking half of Marella's books with her to her next class

Sometimes Jensi would see her talking to kids he didnt even know and instead of some mean snarky remark he'd hear her crack a small joke and spark up a genuinely pleasant conversation

It kind of made him crush on her harder

Yeah she was mean and still glared at people just for standing in her way like she owned the halls but she had such a sweet hidden gentle side

By Level 3 (aka Sophie and the gang almost never bloody being at school and also the school taking a haitus) instead of rolling her eyes and begrudgingly accepting Jensi's gift when he handed it to her (since she never hung up her cap again) she would look at the gift and then Jensi and then hold out her hand

Less expectantly and more...open

It's hard to describe but it felt different from when she would take it from his hands

This was more like acceptance, allowing him this tiny step into her world

Even though Stina was still mean there was just something so different now

Jensi was on the road to being talentless but Stina never used that against him when he spoke up at the table during lunch or took a jab or two her way

She could've

She'd brought up Dex's Bad Match parents a ton in the past but she had changed

(Shannon never writing the characters doing stuff so I get to take over)

It's during one of their 'new normal' days where Jensi joins them at the lunch table, a new permanent resident, where Jensi asked Stina a small question

He didn't ask her out at the table, he can sometimes just blurt stuff out there but even he knows not to ask out a girl when all her friends are right there

Plus he's sure his voice would've cracked from nerves and he'd bury himself in a hole if that happened

He just asked a simple question about horses and Stina had stopped poking at her jello and just looked at him

Her brow had furrowed and she was looking at him, trying to sense ulterior motives but finding none before she sighed and started a small ramble about the ranch and the unicorns at home

Part 2!!

[marshmallowprotection]

so I was just thinking. of course I love all the mysme characters as love interests, but I feel like one of the most slept-on aspects of this game is the found family dynamic of the rfa. do you have any platonic headcanons of mc just being close to the others in everyday life?

(aka I desperately need a break from all the angst of this game lmao)

Gush over your love of musicals and theater with Jaehee, and if not that, with your special interest that she values just as much as you value hers. What're friends for? She knows what it feels like to need someone in your life who supports you.

You've done that for her all along. So, she wants to do the same for you! The two of you can spend hours talking to each other about anything and everything and your voices are finally heard. Nobody in the world might be able to keep up with you two when it comes to interests, but that's no problem here. Gush to your heart's content.

Get into a heated debate with Zen about the semantics of method acting versus classical acting. It doesn't matter if you understand what he's talking about or not, what matters is that the two of you can laugh about the different approaches that actors take to their roles.

He's tried every method there is out there so if you're curious about the semantics of these things, prepare to be at his acting mercy as his bestie. Jaehee is so jealous of you! You should make sure to remind her to drop by since this is a debate between friends. Imagine how far these silly conversations can go, it might just lead you into tagging along to set one day.

Laugh your heart out when you decide to take on Yoosung's offer to make a meal for everyone. Messy food and zagged lines but that's the least of your concerns. It's not all about making the food perfect. It's about the taste and the time you share. You can tease him about the messy faces he makes on his omurice and he can tease you about the silly additions you add to your half. Laughing and taste testing your snacks before you share it with everybody is a must!

Of course, just be wary of the fact that there are some dishes he simply can't make yet. You do not want to be the test dummy for a soup that turns purple without there having been anything in it to make a purple in the first place. It's okay, just get Zen to be the guinea pig. Now that's a friend that'll take one for the team.

Have a deeply intellectual discussion with Jumin late into the evening hours. As a close friend and his life, he is willing to talk to you about anything and everything that comes to mind. It doesn't matter if he knows the topic or not firsthand, he truly wants to learn and understand more about it.

Most of the time, he could prepare a schedule for the two of you to talk about different things and if you aren't ready for that, you may not know what to think when he shows you an itinerary of the different topics you can talk about through the night. Not only is he learning something but you're learning something as well. The most important thing is that the two of you laugh and it's a nice thing to hear that from your friend.

Play a prank on everybody with Seven. Listen, if there's an opening, he wants to make sure his friends are happy and comfortable. His pranks aren't because he's trying to mask himself, most of the time, he's doing them because he wants to keep his friends on their toes and remind them that it's important to laugh now and again.

That's hard for him to do himself, so, sometimes he has to live vicariously through his friends. It's nice when you tag along for the situation because nobody would ever suspect you to go along with whatever plan he had on hand. Just apologize in advance to your besties in the RFA. He means well and that's the most important thing.

Get lost in a painting with Jihyun as you try to discern the brush, style, and aesthetic in a gallery together. He seems to know anything and everything there is to know about every painting you come across, and while he might have been condescending in his teenage years if you expressed your lack of knowledge in the matter, that's not the man he is today.

The person he is today wants nothing more than to be able to share the experiences of art and the passion that it brings. He was able to find himself in his art again and now he wants to be able to share that experience with other people. Because art is an experience, it's not something that you keep to yourself if you choose to share it. Just, don't get him started on certain topics because he can be so passionate that you'd swear this isn't the soft spoken man you got to know.

Spend your afternoon trimming the leaves and cultivating Saeran's garden as you talk about the world. Have you ever wanted to talk to somebody who is still learning how to take baby steps into the world? Have you ever seen how great it is to be friends with somebody who wants to try everything at least once? Have you ever wanted to listen to somebody admit something that everybody else might be too scared to admit?

That's what it's like when you're friends with him. Being friends with him is like getting to experience something for the first time all over again. Of course, if you really want to tease him, why don't you go ahead and poke a carrot in his mouth and explain why he doesn't get the joke when you ask him "What's up, doc?" That's what being friends with him is like. Of course, you're going to get some free food out of it.

Sit on a porch swing with Rika as you enjoy a sweet tea and think about the world and your place in it. Have you ever had a friend who can sit down with you and talk about a wide array of very vulnerable and personal topics? That would be your relationship with her. It's not something where you're putting the weight of the world on each other, it's more like you finally have someone who knows what you mean when you trail off.

You can complete each other's sentences with a smile. It doesn't always have to be the weight of the world nor does it have to be a conversation where it feels like all you talk about is serious things. Sometimes the two of you are just laughing about a silly puppy video you saw. Being able to sit with her in the sunshine is being able to speak with an old friend known for the longest time and no matter how much time passes, it feels like yesterday.

[qroier]

always on that stupid boat eternally on that stupid boat. aka what i imagine was roier cubito's reaction on that boat as it sped away from egg island, with some bloodhounds included for fun. full thing under read more and link to this on ao3:

Roier was still standing near the stern. He'd been there for hours. It was the same place he’d been standing at when the bomb had dropped, and he hadn't moved since. Not since the boat had started speeding away after Tubbo finally figured out how to lift the anchor, and not even since the rocky aftershocks had finally stopped churning the waves. The rest of them, the rest of them that had made it onboard, kept checking in on him, occasionally, when they could. Walking back to stand next to him as he faced the ocean and an island that could no longer be seen. Motionless. Soundless.

Bagi had tried, initially, to guide him to a seat, back when everyone else’s shock had started to set in. He had shrugged her off without a word. He’d done the same thing to anyone else’s attempts since. Etoiles softly calling out his name, saying, “Roier, bro? My friend?” had had similar results. So they left him alone, and hoped he’d resurface. A blanket that Phil had found somewhere deep in storage while trying to scrounge for supplies was draped over his shoulders like a cape and like the comfort he was refusing. 

Hours more pass like that by the time a rustling arises from Roier’s corner. Most of them are asleep or at least trying to be, and the loudest sound apart from the ocean’s lapping waves hitting against the boat’s hull is the twinkling of stars overhead and occasional snores from the cabin below. The rustling jolts Etoiles from the half-doze he’d fallen under while standing guard to Roier’s left. He reaches instinctively for a sword that’s not there. Right. It’s turning to dust somewhere, back on that island, after being dropped by Phil and lost mid-flight to the boat. 

There's movement. That's new. It catches Etoiles’ attention from where he notices it out of the corner of his eye, and he only barely manages to scramble fast enough to catch Roier as he crumbles. 

They both hit the floor. In Etoiles’ arms, Roier shakes as his murmurs whisper “Pendejo no duro nada, nada.” 

They both know the tremors are tinged with something more than heartbreak.

“Nada,” Roier repeats, picking himself up and away from Etoiles while glaring back toward the same spot of ocean he'd been looking at before. Ese culero, his eyes try to say.

He looks back down at Etoiles, still on the floor and staring up at him. A- something, drags its way across his face as he scoffs. It might be a smirk. “Man,” he calls down, “No mames. Why are you on the floor, pendejo? Are the- are the fancy boat beds not toxic enough for you? You miss the ground?”

Etoiles just looks back up at him. Okay. “Are you stupid, bro? Don't be stupid, man. I was waiting for you, pendejo,” he tells Roier, putting on a similar grin as he stands up and dusts himself off. 

He shoves at Roier’s shoulders, gently, playfully, when Roier says, “Hm, no, I don't think so.”

“You don't think so? Oh, well, if you don't think so! I guess I must be a liar, then!”

Roier starts to direct them forward, as if he's the one that explored the boat instead of the one that stood at the stern, motionless, for hours. There's not a single glance back to that invisible island.

“You just don't think the beds are toxic enough. You need it more toxic? Don't be so mean or I'll cry for the beds, I swear man, I'll cry for the beds.” Neither of them comment on Roier’s desert dry eyes. How they're tinted red not with tears but from being open for so long.

The lack of direction seems to catch up to Roier, suddenly, as he stumbles while turning about to look for the cabin door. Etoiles reaches out, hand to his shoulder to steady him.

“Roier, man. You uh, you good, bro?” He asks, not removing his hand even after Roier stabilizes.

“Fuckin boats, man.” A chuckle. “I'm not a mermaid. Is Cucurucho too poor for a plane? We're so poor, man. Quesadilla Island is so poor, what the fuck.”

“Now you are the one being toxic, bro.” Etoiles says, turning them, pointing them in the direction of the cabin door and the beds underneath. He looks at Roier again. At the tightness in his shoulders. At how he's refusing to turn back toward the island. “Roier, my bro, do you want-”

“Sleep!” Roier shouts, nodding like the idea will save him. “Yes. On a not toxic bed, because man, I'm not like you. I'm not mean to the beds like you.”

They reach the cabin door a half second later and Roier pauses, hand on the door knob. The humor slides off his shoulders, and the grin drops from his face. 

“Did.” The tremors are still there, hiding under his hoodie. His hand had shaken when he reached for the door. Etoiles hadn't mentioned it. “Did anyone else make it on, after?”

Etoiles looks at Roier, at the way his gaze is glued to the door knob.

“No, my friend. I was the last one on.”

“Oh. Okay. Bueno,” he says, hand and gaze still on the door. “Bueno. Pues F, no?” He chuckles again, finally dragging his attention back to Etoiles as he opens the door. The humor slinks back. “Are you gonna tryhard sleep now? Is that what you'll do, man?”

“Bro, if anyone is going to tryhard sleep, it's the Mexican beast!”

“Ah, facts, factoids. Pure fuckin facts, bro.”

Although there are enough rooms to not, they'll share a room when they make it downstairs and to the sleeping quarters. They're used to it, by now.

And they'll never talk about it. At least, they'll never talk about it for however long they're on that stupid boat.

[moonspirit]

hi! I hope you’re doing great today ☺️ I wanted to ask you one thing

how do you think Annie got her ring? was it her idea so that she would not have to bite herself? and if so, what does it say about her personality?

Hello! I hope your day is going well too :3

Interesting question tho. I don't think anything about Annie's ring was ever mentioned in the manga beyond the obvious reference to its purpose. Please correct me if I'm wrong tho, my memory these days is WELP xD

However, assuming I am right, this is where I have to say that I like picking tidbits of information from other published sources to expand upon lore, as long as it doesn't straight up contradict canon information.

So, I'll dive into Lost Girls for a bit.

I recall a chapter in it where Mikasa confronts Annie over her ring that she found in the training grounds (we already know that Annie doesn't wear her ring all the time, only putting it on when she's likely to use it, and Lost Girls maintains this). Annie's response to this is that it was an item given to her by her "parents" before she left home, and that it's important to her. Mikasa then asks her something like, "Why are you here, in the military?" And follows it up with, "It doesn't look to me like you're here to secure a place in the inner districts, rather, you're doing it because you have to." Annie then explains that the ring is what gives her purpose, and that's good enough a reason.

From this I've always assumed that the ring wasn't a thing Annie made or bought herself - it was given to her by her father, probably once she was seen by the Marleyan military as a definite successor to the Female Titan.

Now where did the ring itself come from?

Since we aren't told much about Mr.Leonhardt either except for the fact that he was shipped off to Liberio for his half eldian blood, his background remains murky. But I remember reading a reddit post years and years ago about how the pointy blade on Annie's ring was a bit similar to real life poison rings that were used in the middle ages by nobility. These rings were used to poison enemies as well as to facilitate suicide in case of capture. Sound a bit familiar? Anyway, somehow I ended up imagining that Mr.Leonhardt came into possession of a similar such ring with a blade as a part of a loot of stolen goods before he arrived at Liberio, and that has been fact in my head haha xD

So while I've just taken Annie's words (about being given the ring by her dad) at face value and accepted them, it is also highly interesting to explore the possibility that Annie bought it herself. Why? Let's see:

Whichever take you go with, the ring is very symbolic. The choice of using the ring to transform instead of a bite or cut, is very much reflective of what Annie was taught: to be quick, powerful and lethal. With a ring you attract less attention, and the cut will be smaller and therefore easier to hide as it heals. It can assist in situations where the hands and mouth are bound and gagged. It can also act as a psychological trigger: putting it on means you have a mission to complete and see through, no matter what; aka, you mean serious business.

So to put it simply: Annie getting the ring for herself would basically speak about her tactical mind and quick problem solving abilities, leaning towards methods most efficient and able to get the job done with minimum effort - the ring achieves exactly that.

On the other hand, Annie getting the ring as a "gift" from her father would speak to narrative symbolism. The reason I personally like this more than the first one is because Annie calls the ring "important to her", and perhaps that is because the ring is her one, single tangible link between her and father (in the Lost Girls chapter, she pats her left breast pocket to check for it), and as such, it's very precious. This brings out Annie's softer side that yearns and longs for affection and love.

Anyway xD Long ass reply, but I hope that satisfies you!

[motleymunson27]

Can you pretend to be my friend or boyfriend?

Summary: Brooklyn gets hit on by a creepy guy at the bar then runs into Phil and asks if he can help her by pretending to know her.

~~~~~~

Work had been stressful lately so to ease her mind, Brooklyn thought it would be a good idea to call up a friend and ask if she wanted to go for drinks.

While her friend did agree to plans, she unfortunately had to cancel last second due to a separate complication.

Brooklyn thought that was fine and still went out for a drink or two.

She got dressed up in a more dressy outfit, mainly because she felt like feeling pretty…and maybe to pick up a man…

Arriving at the bar, Brooklyn ordered herself a skinny margarita and was happily sipping on her drink at the end of the bar.

She was about half done her drink when she felt a large hand on her shoulder. “Hi beautiful,” A deep voice spoke from over her shoulder.

Feeling a shiver down her spine, Brooklyn turned her head to see a man of mid-tall height wearing a black suit and glasses with a forehead big enough to use as a dinner plate with his hair slicked back.

He looked to be about late 40’s, early 50’s. Aka, too old for her.

“Now what’s a sight as gorgeous as you doing in a place like this?” He asked, trying to take hold of Brooklyn’s hand, holding on for a little too longer than she enjoyed.

“Uh,-,” She stuttered, looking nervously around the room before sheepishly looking back at the guy. “I don’t mean to be rude but I don’t think you should try taking me home. I’m meeting with a friend hopefully soon,” She lied, mentally crossing her fingers that this guy would get the hint and leave her alone.

He didn’t.

“Why do you think that?” He asked, taking a spare seat and setting his hand overtop of Brooklyn’s. To which she obviously pulled her hand away again.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not interested,” She admitted, looking around again for anything or anyone to help her.

She then spotted probably definitely the most attractive guy in the whole room at the other end of the bar.

His hair was a light brown-dark blonde colour that would look like it needed to be cut on most men but he pulled it off well.

His jawline looked like it could cut through glass and his eyes were that piercing blue that looked like he was staring directly into your soul.

He wore a black Henley top with the first two buttons open and his sleeves pulled up to his elbows as he held a glass of what Brooklyn was guessing was Whiskey or Bourbon of sorts.

“Ooh, actually I see him over there,” Brooklyn thought fast, quickly grabbing her purse before finishing her drink then leaving a tip for the bartender.

“Woah, not so fast, babydoll. The night is young,” The guy stopped her, grabbing hold of her hand again but not being fast enough before Brooklyn was quickly weaving her way through the crowd towards the hot guy.

Panicking, she quickly made it to him before latching onto his wrist.

Surprised by the sudden hand on him, the guy looked away from the tv he was watching a football game on, he looked at Brooklyn with those piercing eyes.

God damn was he even more attractive up close.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” She spoke, glancing behind her to see if the other guy was around. “There’s this guy making me uncomfortable at the other end of the bar. Can you pretend to be my friend or boyfriend? Please, he’s really scaring me,” She begged, still holding onto his wrist as he listened intently.

“Yea, of course,” He immediately agreed, taking Brooklyn’s small hand in his larger palm and pulling out a seat for her next to him. “Where is he?”

“At the other end of the bar,” Brooklyn answered, nudging her chin towards where she said.

This time, she didn’t actually mind this guy holding her hand. “Phil,” He introduced himself, keeping a lookout for the guy Brooklyn was referring to.

“Brooklyn.”

“Do you want to stay or leave?” Phil asked, studying Brooklyn’s gorgeous face that wore a panicked expression. “Whatever you want, baby. Choice is yours.”

Holding back a smile at the nickname, Brooklyn immediately nodded. “Leave. Please,” She begged.

And without missing a beat, Phil was taking his jacket from the bar top and wrapping it around Brooklyn’s shoulders as she grabbed her purse.

She took Phil’s arm that he was offering before immediately following him to the door, sticking close to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

Once they were out of the bar and around the corner away from the door, Brooklyn let go of Phil’s arm before letting out a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked, looking down at Brooklyn with a worried expression.

Brooklyn nodded. “Yes. Thank you so much,” She thanked, looking up at Phil.

Now that he was standing upright, god damn was he tall. 6 foot at most.

“Need any help getting home?” Phil asked, setting a hand on Brooklyn’s shoulder as she bit her lip in thought.

“If it’s not a problem,” She said, looking down at her feet which were snug in a pair of heels. “I don’t really feel like walking in these shoes,” She lightly chuckled, brushing a fallen hair from her eyes as Phil chuckled as well.

“Definitely not a problem,” He smiled before leading Brooklyn over to a black Mercedes a few feet away from where they stood.

If Phil wasn’t hot enough already, he had amazing manners as he unlocked his car then opened the passenger seat for Brooklyn, letting her take his hand to help her step into the car as well.

Phil then closed the door before rounding the front of the car to the drivers seat before starting the engine and turning the heat up. “Where to?”

~~~~~~

“Thank you again. I really appreciated it,” Brooklyn thanked as Phil helped her out of the car and walked her to her front door.

“You don’t have to thank me,” He shrugged with the same smile as Brooklyn looked at her door. She began to take a step before she stopped herself.

“Hold on,” She muttered as she reached into her purse before pulling out a pen. “Can I borrow your hand?” She nervously chuckled as she clicked the pen open.

Chuckling, Phil pulled his left sleeve up a bit before letting Brooklyn take it.

Being gentle, Brooklyn wrote down her full name and phone number before adding a ‘thank you’ line underneath the number before giving Phil his hand back. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing more of you,” She smiled.

“I think so too,” Phil agreed, carefully reaching up and brushing a fallen hair away from Brooklyn’s eyes. “Have a good night, Brooks,” He smiled, snickering slightly at the nickname as Brooklyn opened her door.

“You too,” She chuckled, giving Phil a wave as he trekked down her driveway back to his car before slipping into the warmth of the house.

Even though the night was close to a disaster, it quickly redeemed itself with the help of a random hot guy Brooklyn didn’t know.

But hopefully that would change.

Part 2??

[starry-blue-echoes]

okay so I went on a walk and my brain started rotating the Merstars AU SO hard so I'm just going to yeet a bunch of random bullet point thoughts that I came up with and see what comes out of it-

the "world" the AU takes place isn't really like "real" life and is instead a super huge archipelago with hundreds of thousands of islands of varying sizes and kinds

Mers and other various Sea Magics are pretty well known as A Thing That Exists. Is it accepted? Depends on the location and the people, and Mer Hunters are unfortunately a pretty common thing, but it's slowly started dying out. This is actually thanks to Speedwagon since after Jonathan's death he started trying to use his influence as a Very Important Wealthy Merchant to change public opinion, and it's actually been working

Jonathan was a pretty well loved and very social member of the mers. He wasn't their leader by any means, but almost every mer in the archipelago knew about him, and his murder pissed a LOT of people off. Luckily thanks to Speedwagon, since then relations have gone from "it's on fucking sight" to "don't approach me and I won't approach you"

Morioh is one of the more isolated islands and a bit of an exception to the above thing, being the most accepting island in the whole archipelago. Honestly, at this point like half the town has at least a little mer blood in them, but they are primarily human passing. There are a couple of full blooded or half blooded mers that hang around, but Josuke was one of the first ones born in the town in a long while

currently debating how exactly the Morioh Trio are gonna be, since I want them to be a "full blood, half blood, human" trio for the funnsies, but other than Josuke I don't know which should be which. My current thought process is 1) Okuyasu is the full blooded and when he was younger he had a run in with Hunters which is where his scars came from since his dad more or less just fucked off and left him at their mercy at which Keicho had to save him which led to the two of the moving to Morioh, Koichi is the human and is Their Little Guy, is super familiar with how to work around mers and climbs them like a god damn jungle gyms, or 2) Koichi is the full blood and a really small mer but still Big for humans, he's a cuttlefish, got separated from his family when he was little which led to him being adopted by the Human Hiroses and Okuyasu is human and the resident Normie Guy, he's recently moved to Morioh and is getting used to how Positive human mer relations are here

still trying to figure out how the Stand Arrows work, since Stands..... aren't really a thing now. Probably some kind of super powerful Sea Magic thing going on, maybe turn partial mers/humans into full blooded ones?

the "Italy" of this world is a collection of islands that are under Passione's control, aka a group of pirates that have a literal fleet. Diavolo and Doppio are brothers, with Diavolo being a half-mer (maybe lion fish? I'm still deciding tho) and Doppio being a full human. Doppio is the face of the operation, but his brother is always lurking in the depths below the ship and even makes a couple appearances as the True Boss in human form. Trish is by extension 1/4 mer and they want to kill her so the truth about Diavolo won't get out

Passione, despite all the shitty stuff they do, is actually a surprising area of Human Mer teamwork. There are a lot of hybrids and even full blooded mers to the point they're almost the majority. For the most part people don't care what you are as long as you get your job done, and honestly if what they did wasn't drug trade and trafficking, they'd be pretty cool

the Bucci Gang don't have a whole lot of mer blood, and any they do have is pretty distant to the point they're almost human save for a couple little features (they also don't get full transformations), with the exceptions being Trish and Giorno. Trish I've explained, but Giorno is...... Really Really Weird with what he is. His birth mom was a mer, but Dio had mostly been using her to try and lure other mers so by the time Giorno was actually born she was killed. Giorno was then taken in by the Shiobana's, which obviously sucked ass, but he was able to pass as a human for a shocking amount of time because Sea Vampire Genes fucked with his aging, so he also looks a lot smaller than he should be. He's also been forced to stay in his "human" form for much longer than is strictly healthy which ALSO fucked with his size and health

Giorno is gonna be a giant sea snake, because I think it'll be funny because That's The Traditional Sea MonsterTM. Maybe during the final fight with Diavolo he gets shot with the arrow and falls off the ship all dramatic and everyone thinks he died but SIKE he suddenly grows to full Absolutely Fucking ENORMOUS Size And Kicks Ass

Jolyne is a siphonophore, I don't make the rules, she's Really Fucking Long