#i'll post the rest sooner or later

[thelonelyshore-if]

I can't believe I have to go to work today. Tragic. Unjust. Horrible. Doesn't the world know I woke up excited to write???

Sigh. Well, I hope everyone is enjoying the update <3

[inkedleafz]

One of the greatest mysteries of life is how I can consume the majority of media without any adverse effects but the second I make fucking eye contact with the minority of media I'm afflicted with brainrot and dragged kicking and screaming into the fandom rabbit hole

[shepherdenjoyer]

Not gonna lie I would've had a nicer time if my brain wasn't obsessed with overthinking and being pessimistic etc

[lawleighette]

SKZ studies part 1 (4/8) Lino, Chan, Hyunjin, Felix.

I realized I had never posted any of the studies I've done for the past (almost) 2 years x'D I was finally able to finish Lee Know's study recently, which is the fourth out of the eight members, so here they are!! I'll do the rest of them sooner or later :3

©Lawleighette 2021-2023

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Want Some Help? | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: When your boyfriend can't seem to satisfy you anymore your roommate decides to lend a helping hand. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook (crackhead roommate energy) Word Count: 4.7k (got a little carried away but when don't I 😂) Warnings: Explicit language, smut and cheating. He spits in her mouth at the end lol and hella pet names. Aight that's all you're getting lol gotta read the rest to find out. a/n: This is the last thing I'll be posting before I go on a little hiatus. I'll make a post in a couple of days to explain but I'll let this circulate a bit before I do. I hope you enjoy it! (barely edited lol) Requested by a lovely anon 💜

The sounds in my room are obscene to say the least, more from Brian's side than mine today though. I don't know what it is but something about him isn't doing it for me anymore. Is it the fact that I have a new Adonis for a roommate? Perhaps, but Brian's need to overcompensate for it makes situations like these even more awkward than they need to be. 

"You like that?" he asks, him being so close to cumming with me barely working my way up to it. "Yeah" I respond breathily, trying my best to play the part so this can hopefully be over sooner rather than later. "Fuck" he groans at the sight and sound of my little gasp when he just barely hits that spot but I know he won't be able to figure out how to do it again. 

Brian isn't a selfish lover but the dynamic between us has changed ever since Jungkook moved in... 

He hasn't been as focused on me which now that I think about it is pretty damn selfish. I'm just making excuses for him at this point. He's more focused on his ego and playing it up for my roommate than he is into loving his girlfriend. I don't know how much longer I can be in this relationship if he keeps acting like this. 

"Shit I'm close, are you?" he asks and I nod my head furiously, thanking whoever might've been listening to my plea and seconds later he's cumming inside the condom and I do my best to copy the moan that I let out when he's actually done a good job at satisfying me and it seems to be convincing enough since he's giving me that cocky grin before he kisses me again. 

"You wanna shower?" he asks and I shake my head, "You go ahead, I'll shower later. Plus, didn't you say you had work early tomorrow morning? I'll let you get cleaned up in peace so you can head out" I say and he nods his head before going to the bathroom and throwing me a towel before closing the door and turning on the shower. 

Luckily he didn't try to clean me up because there's definetly not much to clean since I didn't cum.

Once I'm finished and I've made myself somewhat presentable I put on my robe and head out into the kitchen to grab myself a glass of water. "Have fun?" my roommate says from the living room couch as I pass by on my way to the kitchen. "Shit Jungkook you scared me" I say, holding my hand to my chest. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to. Have a good time tonight?" he asks again, his eyes dragging up and down my form, lingering on my chest and when I look down I see that my nipples are very visible unbeknownst to me since I hadn't cared to think about the fact that Jungkook might've come home. 

I wrap my robe tighter around me and cross my arms as I head into the kitchen. "Yes I did thank you very much. Did you?" I spit out quickly, hoping to avoid talking about my sex life with him. "It was alright. I had a long week so I decided to turn in early but um..." he trails off as he watches Brian walk down the hallway and into the kitchen, giving Jungkook a stern look before coming over to talk to me. 

"You alright?" he asks before placing a way too intimate kiss on my lips in front of Jungkook who I see has turned his head back to the TV and isn't bothering to pay attention to the game Brian is trying to play with him. "Yeah I'm fine. Are you heading out?" I ask, very hopeful that this visit will come to an end and thankfully luck is on my side this time. 

"Yeah I gotta get going but I'll come over again soon" he says, looking over at Jungkook before giving me one last kiss and heading towards the door to put on his shoes. "Text me when you get home!" I say and he winks at me before walking out leaving me rolling my eyes once the door is shut. 

I slump against the counter, glad it's finally over and when I look back over at Jungkook he's not too interested in whatever he has playing on the TV anymore, his focus solely on me. 

"What?" I ask him, brows scrunched together and trying to figure out what his deal is. "Why'd you fake it?" he asks and I choke on my spit, caught off guard by the unfiltered question. "Excuse me?" I ask, scandalized that he had been listening enough to even catch onto something like that. 

"You probably wanted it to be over huh?" he asks, assuming what the answer was and unfortunately that was the case but I'm not letting him have the satisfaction of being right. "I don't know what you're talking about" I say, turning on the sink to fill up my cup again but before I can even pull it out from under the tap he's taking it out of my hand. 

"Hey!" I call out, trying to grab it but he holds it just out of reach. "Can't keep you satisfied anymore?" he asks raising a brow at me, a smug look on his face since it seems he can read me like a book based off of my body language alone. "He keeps me very satisfied thank you very much, not that it's any of your business" I say and reach for my cup which he thankfully relinquishes. 

"I know you're lying" he say and I cock a brow at him, not knowing how he could possibly know the truth. "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?" I press, placing the cup on the counter and crossing my arms over my chest, forgetting the fact that I'm completely naked under this and giving him a better view of my cleavage. 

"You're not very quiet when you do it by yourself you know. What do you use? A dildo? One of those little roses? Maybe both?" he questions leaning in closer to me and making my eyes bug out of my head. "How did yo-" "These walls are paper thin doll, so believe me when I say that I can hear every little thing you do to yourself in there. But please, don't stop. I would hate to be deprived of that pretty little voice of yours even though it is quite distracting sometimes" he says, grabbing my cup and holding it between us as a clear invitation to leave if I so desire. 

I take it and rush back to my room, slamming the door behind me and I can hear him chuckle from the kitchen. Fuck he really wasn't kidding when he said these walls are thin.

I flop down onto my bed facedown and scream into my pillow, utterly mortified that he's heard me ever since he got here. I need to wear a muzzle at this rate  since there's no way I'm stopping just for his sake. A girl's got needs and if Brian isn't going to fulfill them then I've gotta do it myself. 

I get up off my bed after I finish my little temper tantrum and change the sheets before taking my robe off and jumping in the shower to hopefully wash off all of Brian's scent. I can't stand to think about him anymore especially after what Jungkook said about him...

After finishing up my shower and drying off my hair I reach into my drawer to get my tried and true rose bud to help me out tonight. Yes he guessed right but I'll be damned if I ever let him see it.

I lay down and try to turn it on and after I've used it for a minute or two it just shuts off. "Fuck" I groan out, forgetting the fact that I had forgotten to grab new batteries for it. The TV remote has the same size batteries right? It's worth a shot to go check since I'm pretty sure he's gone to bed already. 

Walking out to the living room in my robe again I'm met with Jungkook still sitting on the couch watching the same thing he had been when I first came out here. 

I try to turn back around once I've seen him but he stops me by asking me if I needed something. "I just wanted to borrow the batteries from the remote but you're still using it so no worries" I say and try to leave but he stops me again. "I'm pretty sure I bought a new pack of batteries not too long ago" he says and I sheepishly admit I used the last of them. 

"Oh okay well here, I can just finish this up on my laptop" he says while taking the batteries out and putting them in my hand, giving me the source of my pleasure for tonight. "T-thanks" I stutter and close my finger around them as if they would disappear if I let them go. "Is everything okay?" he asks and I nod my head while walking down the hallway, not knowing that he's hot on my heels. 

"What do you need the batteries for?" he asks as we're a few feet away from my door making me jump. "Didn't know I was behind you?" he chuckles and I glare at him, hoping that'll make him back off but it does the exact opposite, causing him to smirk and glance around my room and soon notices the rosebud that I stupidly left in the middle of my bed. 

"I was right" he smirks leaving me groaning and rolling my eyes as I storm into my room, not bothering to close the door since I know he's not going to leave me alone anytime soon. 

"What? You know I'm just teasing you. You're free to do as you please doll, I'm not gonna stop you. I was even nice and paused my movie so you can have your fun too" he says, leaning against my doorframe and since he's being shameless I will too, deciding to switch the batteries out and turn it on to check but unfortunately it does the same thing and dies less than thirty seconds after I turn it on.

"Shit" I curse under my breath and he stifles his laughter by covering his mouth. "Yeah yeah laugh it up. You're just lucky all you need is your right hand to get off. Can you just leave me alone?" I ask, laying back down on my bed, exacerbated and ready to call it a night since the odds have flipped again. My good luck for the night being Brian's quick departure. 

I don't pay attention to how high my robe has ridden and it seems as though one of my legs has slipped through the gap giving him a full view of my upper thigh and hip, one wrong move leaving me exposed to him. 

He gulps but I don't bother to notice and only do when he clears his throat. "What do you want?" I say, throwing my arm over my face trying to hide the shame that all of this has caused me but fail miserably. "Want some help?" he asks and I sit up right away at his words, "What?" I ask, my reaction as dramatic as if he had grown two heads. 

"Do you want some help? I can get you off real quick if you'd like? It'll be like one roomie helping the other" he offers as causally as if he had asked to borrow five bucks. "You're joking, right?" I scoff but it seems as he very well is not as he take a step into my room and he watches for signs for protest but I give him none. 

"Not really no. I'm simply offering to help a friend in need. That's what we are right? Friends?" he questions as he takes a step closer. 

He calls out my name when I've stayed silent for a while, not being able to take my eyes off him even if I tried. As long as he stays in this room he's got my attention. "R-right, friends" I respond and he takes a seat on my bed, a respectful distance away but it feels as if he was already on top of me. 

"But Brian-" "Doesn't need to know" he says, cutting me off and making it harder and harder for me to say no. He scoots closer to me and takes the rosebud out of my hands, unbothered by what it's used for and simply places it on the nightstand next to me. "It's your move" he says, leaning closer to me, his breath fanning my face and I look at his eyes, mine going back and forth before his look down at my lips. 

"Tell me to stop" he says, making things easier for me but when he's mere millimeters away I lean in. 

It's soft and sweet at first, our lips connecting and breaking a few times, still giving me an opening to pull away and say stop but after a few more kisses like that he deepens the kiss. While keeping our lips locked for longer he angles his head a bit more, his tongue now in my mouth and soon he beckons me to do the same and I do which gives him even more of a green light. 

He places his hand on my cheek and angles me just right before he switches up and presses down on my shoulder a little and leans in closer as a silent plea for me to lay down. 

I crawl back on the bed instead and he follow as I lay down on the pillows with him hovering over me. "Fuck been thinking about this view for a long time" he admits and before I can say anything in response his lips are already on mine again.

"Can I take this off?" he asks, toying with the tie that is seconds from coming undone of it's own accord. "Yeah" I say, adrenaline pumping through my veins at the thought of doing this, of cheating with my roommate who is someone I won't be able to run away from after this.

He pulls the belt and in one smooth motion it's undone.

The way he looks at me as he takes both sides of the robe off of my body is a sight that could make me cum untouched if given the chance. Watching his eyes darken up as they roam all over my body until he's tracing them back up to mine where it's as if a whole new man is hovering over me, one that looks so insatiable and ready to break me at any moment. 

"Fuck you're so pretty" he say, leaning back down to kiss me but soon trails his lips down my neck and to the valley between my breast. He settles on kissing one of them and slowly brings his lips closer to my nipple where he looks up at me for permission which I give right away. He smirks and puts his thumb and pointer fingers into his mouth making them wet. He places them on the opposite one twisting and toying with it before he places his mouth on the one in front of him. 

Once his lips make contact my fingers immediately lace through his hair, needing to ground myself with something and he hums around in in approval when I tug on it a bit. 

"You sensitive here doll?" he asks when he lets go of it, the cool air causing a chill when it hits my damp skin, him having made a mess of it from his clear desire to do this. I let out a whimper in response and he nips at it before switching to my other breast to give it the same time and attention he gave the first.

My hips start to buck up after a couple more seconds of him switching between my breasts and lips when he hears those pretty voices he had talked about before, wanting to taste them on his tongue this time. 

"Someone's eager" he says against my lips but I turn my face to the side leaving him kissing the column of my neck until I'm squirming about leaving him smiling against my skin. 

"Does my doll want more?" he asks and I whimper in response, not being able to bring myself to utter words of confirmation when I have a man like him already causing me so much pleasure, but it's not enough. 

I need more.

"Jungkook please" I breathe out, done with this teasing and so worked up already from not gaining release earlier. "Please what?" he asks trailing his lips back up to mine and kissing them one last time before pulling back and waiting for my answer. "Please help me cum" I plead, wanting what he had promised me earlier. 

He chuckles dryly and places a kiss on the corner or my mouth before responding. "Here I am taking my time with you but you still only want one thing. Don't you like it when I play with you like this?" he asks, trailing middle finger down my torso until he's come in contact with my clit, sliding further down past it and checking to see what my true physical reactions have been to his ministrations. 

"Seems like you do" he says, circling around my entrance with that same finger when he feels how wet I am. "This all for me?" he asks and close my eyes once he's dipped one of his fingers in while using his thumb to draw circles around my clit but once my breathing picks up a bit everything stops. 

"What?" I pant, confused as to why he would stop. "I asked you a question. Is this all for me y/n?" he rasps, looking down at where his fingers had once been and cursing when he notices how wet they are. "Y-yes, all for you" I choke out and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops before I can even brush my lips against his. 

"Can you say my name princess?" he whispers, posed as a question but we both know the only way this continues is if I comply. "Jungkook" I whisper out, his name now tasting different on my tongue. It's almost if I have to put more effort into pronouncing each letter, my throat suddenly running dry. 

"Louder doll. It's the least you can do to help me forget how you've moaned his name in here time and time again. Probably another sad excuse of an act to fake your high" he says, going back to playing with my center, his finger going in and out at a faster rate now before easing his way into putting in a second one. 

"Fuck Jungkook" I groan, this time a little louder than before that grants me a kiss on my neck, his motives to stay away from my lips being to hear all of my reactions to what he's doing to me. Wanting to discover new sounds and reactions that sound more genuine and are ones that I can't even hope to hold back with the pleasure he's giving me.

"That's it, keep going. Want your voice to be the thing I remember most about this, hear it over and over again, ingrained in my memory. That way when I forget how you taste it'll be something that I'll still be able to come back to. Hearing how I make you feel, not yourself and definetly not your sorry excuse of a boyfriend, me. Let me hear how I make you feel" he rasps in my ear making me shiver and arch my back off the mattress. 

"Jungkook please, please" I beg, my ego gone, the only thoughts in my head being him and how incredible it'll feel once he's made me cum. "Just like that doll, scream my name if you need to, I don't mind" his calm cool and collected tone of voice driving me mad. How can he be whispering these things in my ear and taunting me like this while I'm a complete mess under him, barely being able to breathe let alone think straight. 

I pulse around his fingers and he can tell that I'm close when I let out a moan after he hits a certain spot, hitting it over and over again, knowing that that's going to be the thing that'll make me come undone. 

He leans back and looks down at me, his flushed cheeks and swollen lips make me insane, his calm and cool façade in my mind broken when I see the way he's watching me. Taking in every gasp, every moan, every whimper of his name and it makes him want to try even harder to get me to that high, needing to see what I look like when I cum.

"Just like that doll, you're doing so well, sound so pretty" he murmurs and with a few more words of encouragement I'm coming undone. When I try to look away he grabs my chin and makes me keep eye contact, making everything seem even more intense. 

Once the rising and falling of my chest has slowed down and his playful fingers inside me gain him whines of overstimulation he finally takes them out. 

I expect him to get up and wash his hands but instead places them in his mouth, moaning once my taste hits his tongue leaving me swallowing dryly, needing that glass of water now. 

"Open your mouth" he says after he takes his fingers out and I comply curiously, doing as he asks and the next moment I feel him spitting in my mouth before smashing his lips on mine one last time. 

After kissing me senseless and exhaustion flooding my system my kisses become sloppy and he laughs against my lips before finally pulling back. "Where are you going?" I ask and he laughs again at my groggy state. I'm going to go get a towel to clean you up" he says and I sit up quickly, my mind slowly clearing up. 

"Wait, what about you?" I ask, taking note of the tent in his pants but he simply chuckles and brings back a warm towel just like he said. I had expected the same treatment Brian gave me today but when I try to reach for it he pulls back. "No you lay down, you're still out of it" he says, trying to be serious but also satisfied that he only had to use his fingers put me in this state. 

After he finishes cleaning me up he gets up and throws the towel in the laundry basket and comes back to sit on the bed next to me, cupping my face and studying my features. "You okay?" he asks, clearly sensing regret already. 

"Yeah I'm fine. I just never thought I would do something like this" I admit and he mouths a quiet 'Oh' and takes his hand off me but I grab it before he can get too far. "I'm sorry I'm just confused and clearly not thinking straight" I say, trying to backtrack knowing that I've hurt him by saying that. 

"Thank you for doing this for me" I say timidly and he laughs. "What?" I ask, clearly not understanding what about this situation is funny. 

"I'm sorry" he says, his laughing soon dying down and I wait in silence until he's finally composed himself. "I'm sorry it's just that it’s not everyday that your hot roommate thanks you for finger fucking them" he chuckles and my cheeks heat up, thoroughly embarrassed now that he's put it like that.

I reach behind me and grab a pillow and throw it at his face which makes him laugh even more. "Jungkook stop this isn't funny" I whine and he stops a couple minutes later. "Alright alright I'm sorry, you were just getting way too serious about it" he explains and wipes away a fake tear. 

"This is serious! I just cheated on my boyfriend with you" I exclaim and he shakes his head, placing the pillow I threw at him out of my reach and sighs before responding. "You and I both know that you've been ready to end that relationship for a while now" he says and I open my mouth but the words die in my throat.

"That's what I thought" he says and we sit there in silence for a moment while I pull the sheet over me. "Just break up with him already, I can clearly see that you're miserable" he points out and I hate that he's right. 

"Why do you care? Should I break up with him so I can mess around with you?" I ask and he shrugs his shoulders. "We can do that if you want to, but from a friend's point of view I think your life is so much better without him" he says and I sigh, knowing again that he's right, telling me the things that I've thought about over and over again but just never did anything about. 

"I'll talk to him" I say and he nods his head. "Good because with the number I did on your neck he's definetly gonna know that something went down" he laughs and my eyes go wide, forgetting to tell him to not leave any marks but I know I'm fucked. 

"Here" he says, grabbing the hand mirror I have on my dresser and I know from one glance that hoodies and turtlenecks will be my new signature look until this all clears up.

"Jungkook" I growl and he giggles, never taking my scolding tone seriously. "What? Don't act like you didn't like it" he chuckles and I sit up, grabbing that pillow and throwing it at him again. "I hate you" I huff but he laughs again before placing a knee on my bed and making it dip under his weight. 

My breath hitches as he inches closer and I can't do anything but lay down, slowly trying to run away from his lips in my mind but falling back into that same position we had been in for who knows how long.

Once I'm flat on my back and he's hovering over me again I swallow as best as I can, making him let out a dry chuckle. "Wanna run that one by me again doll?" he asks, cocking a brow at me and I press my thighs together, hating myself for doing it but needing some sort of something to keep me sane but it's of no uses when he leans in closer and I hold my breath, not knowing what he's doing or where this is going but when I close my eyes I granted with that same chuckle again. 

"Goodnight princess" he says against my lips, his weight gone off my bed seconds later leaving me sitting up in process. "Wha-" "My pretty doll needs to figure out who she wants to play with if she wants more" he taunts and I cross my arms and pout a little, hoping that'll get him to come back. 

"Aw don't be like that. After all the work I put in to help you feel good. I thought you would've been more grateful, not greedy" he taunts and I roll my eye before uttering a quiet 'Goodnight'. "Thanks for giving me memories to help me fix this" he says, looking down at the very clear outline of his hard on and I swallow again, intimidated from finally being able to see his full size. 

"I promise, if you make up your mind...I'll make it fit" he teases and winks at me granting him a scowl in response. He grabs the door handle at the same time I grab the pillow and throw it which he blocks by closing the door. "Goodnight doll" he says one last time and shuts it behind him. 

I spend the rest of my night willing myself to sleep and when I finally start to doze off I start hearing Jungkook's soft moans and grunts leaving me wide awake again. Now I really know he wasn't lying...

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @hehurst23 @ye0nvibezzn @olimpiiaa @hrtsj1m @bangtans-momma Rest of the tags continued in the reblogs 💜

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[demonpiratehuntress]

How the Straw Hats React to Your Period

Includes: OPLA!Zoro, OPLA!Sanji, OPLA!Luffy, OPLA!Usopp, f!reader

A/N: I actually have a one-shot written of Zoro's reaction to your period, which I'll post after this. But I hope you enjoy reading this :)

ZORO

"NO! NO! (NAME) I'M SORRY!"

Luffy's loud scream was what woke the swordsman from his nap today, one of his eyes shooting open to see what the fuss was about. Luffy zipped across the deck in front of him, holding onto his hat for dear life as you chased him around with a kitchen knife, curses and threats spewing past your lips.

"Luffy! Get back here!"

Zoro looked at Nami and Sanji, who were watching the scene while trying to stifle giggles. Usopp was behind Sanji, visibly shaking. The swordsman turned his gaze back to you and Luffy, where you were handling the captain by the collar of his vest. Before you could do anything to him, however, Zoro grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

"What now-" You turned, your eyes widening when you saw your boyfriend. "Zoro-"

"Why are you trying to kill our captain?" He asked, then paused. "Okay let me rephrase. Why do you have a knife?"

You suddenly burst into tears, and for the first time since Kaya's mansion, Zoro jumped in fright and alarm. It didn't take long for your face to be a mess of tears, and you were babbling something he couldn't hear through your sobs.

"Calm down," he let go of your wrist and gently took the knife away from you, handing it to Luffy before feeling you suddenly smack his arm. "What was that for?"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" You yelled, still crying but now very irritated. "He ate my food!"

"So?"

"So Sanji made it especially for me!" You whined. "He knows what I like on my period!"

At the mention of Sanji, Zoro growled and lifted you up, tossing you over his shoulders, "I also know what you like."

Minutes later, you were laying on his chest in his hammock, after he had brought you some more food and something to drink. He was lazily rubbing over your uterus, which he had learned - after three of your periods - calmed you down. You were content for now, eating an insane amount of food and cuddling your boyfriend, but he couldn't deny that he was a little afraid of you during these times. Still, he did his best to make sure you were okay, knowing how badly you cramped and how much pain your body was in during these days. Whatever you asked of him, he did without complaint.

SANJI

No one had seen you for hours now. That usually wouldn't be a problem, if it wasn't the middle of the day and if you didn't usually spend this time learning how to fish from Sanji. Everyone except Nami seemed to be confused, but she wouldn't tell anyone what was going on, too busy reading her charts. So your boyfriend decided to check for himself, regretting not coming sooner when he saw what state you were in.

"My love, what's wrong?"

The cook was by your side in an instant, his ears now picking up on the soft groans and whimpers you were letting out. You were clearly in pain, but you didn't want to lift your head up to tell him why. He had to gently remove the blanket from your face, and cup your cheek in his hand.

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Food," you mumbled, before groaning again and burying your face in his thigh. "And you."

That didn't really make any sense, but it didn't matter to Sanji. He didn't want to leave you alone while you were in pain, so he quickly brought a cloth he had doused in hot water and laid it over your uterus, knowing heat would help the pain. Then he kissed your forehead and promised the food would come soon, before rushing off to make your favourite.

"Where's (Name)?" Luffy asked Sanji, coming into the kitchen. "Haven't seen her all day."

"She's resting," the cook answered, before slapping the captain's hand away from the food. "That's for her."

Luffy was about to protest, but then he turned and went down to your room to check on you. Sanji would have warned him, but he was already gone before he could.

What came next was a loud bang and a the unmistakable sound of someone hitting the wooden walls of the ship. Followed by a dazed groan. Sanji tried not to laugh as Luffy came stumbling back into the kitchen, his eyes wide.

"What did you do?"

"I poked her cheeks until she told me what was wrong."

"Did she tell you?"

"No, but she punched me."

Sanji did laugh then, watching Luffy go back out to bother someone else - probably Zoro - as he gathered up the plate and hot drink he had prepared for you and went back to your room. He set the food and drink down, slipped into the bed next to you, and brought you close as he fed you the food and kept the heated cloth in place over your uterus. He was aware of how painful these few days were for you, so he tried his best to make it at least a little easier. And he always did.

LUFFY

THE MOST OBLIVIOUS MAN TO EVER LIVE. This guy has no idea what's in store for him, and he has no idea how to deal with it either. He can't help his annoying nature, but when you get your period he tries his best to shut up sometimes. Sometimes. He can't keep up with your mood swings, and even less with your cramps, but he tries. The poor guy. You always feel so bad after your periods, knowing you yelled at him for no reason or snapped unwillingly when he's never ever raised his voice at you or argued.

"(Name)!" Luffy whined. "That was mine!"

You had just swiped something off his lunch plate - something he did way more often to you - when those words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had - once again - forgotten what time of the month it was. He was reminded when your eyes glossed over with tears, and your bottom lip trembled. Everyone else flinched as you started crying, getting up to run off to somewhere else.

"Luffy!" Nami smacked the back of his head.

"Idiot," Zoro grumbled, face-palming.

Luffy looked confused, wondering why everyone was telling him off. Only when Usopp nudged him in the direction you ran off did he get it. He was slow, but he always understood - eventually. He got up to follow you, finding you curled up in the crow's nest, shaking and crying into your knees.

"Hey, (Name)," he sat down next to you. "I'm sorry."

"You're an idiot, you know," you grumbled, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.

He laughed, and you frowned, before he suddenly pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around you. He extended them so they encased you like a cocoon, having heard from Nami that keeping you warm might help with the pain. But also, he knew how much you loved it when he cuddled you like this. All your pain and anger faded away, and the tears stopped as your body completely relaxed in his embrace. You felt yourself nodding off, and pretty soon you were fast asleep, head tilted onto your boyfriend's shoulder. He smiled. He was lucky that you were so patient with him. Because it took him a while, but he would always make sure you were okay during these few unbearable days.

USOPP

This poor, poor boy. Having been around Kaya for most of his life, he wasn't new to what periods were. However, you were not like Kaya. You were aggressive, you were angry, you were violent, and it terrified him to his core. He knew you didn't mean to be, but your fluctuating hormones made you so moody and grumpy that he was almost tempted to hide from you for those few days. But he knew you needed him. So he did what he does best, he told you funny, made-up stories to make you laugh.

They...had the opposite effect.

He was alarmed when you started crying halfway through his infamous goldfish story, instantly reaching out to take your hand, "(Name), what's wrong? Does it hurt? I can go get something-"

"Why did you punch the goldfish?" You sniffled, looking up him with teary eyes.

He was taken aback by your question, his jaw dropping. No one ever asked that, and he was wondering why you were worried about the goldfish when he claimed it was attacking him.

"Why-"

"It was an innocent animal!" You whined, smacking his arm suddenly and then crying even more. "It didn't do anything!"

Usopp stuttered and stammered and tried to defend himself, but you were so concerned about the fish you didn't want to hear it. Shaking his head with a sigh, he just slipped into the bed next to you and brought you against his chest, kissing the top of your head. You were very very emotional, but he was learning how to appropriately handle it. And you appreciated that he was trying his best to make you smile. He made your periods bearable.

[superscourge]

i know its 1 am but uhhhhh HERE'S THE COVER FOR NEW GAME !!!! ✌️ nothin too fancy but i hope it looks cool

this will be a very self-indulgent comic about my man scourge and it will be a Bit longer than i had originally intended but yknow what. lets go on this journey together

the comic will be posted on this blog, sheezy (im probably gonna make a side account/persona for it, will update later), and my own comics site (http://dscomics.co/) !!! updates will be sporadic; i'll post as finish pages. im still flatting the first five pages + thumbnailing the rest, but hopefully i'll be decently quick with this comic and get it out sooner rather than later ;v; im actually taking a break from my main comic (mirrors) to work on this bc im just..rly feeling it rn

anyway. get hype

[unreliablesnake]

All of the girls you loved before (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Simon is moving into your place, but since he's away on a mission, you offer to pack his stuff in boxes. Too bad you find things that belong to his exes.

Note: Based on this Taylor Swift song. / It's around 700 words. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Warnings: none, it's fluff.

Simon spent most of his time away from home, so when you agreed to move in with him–or rather he would move into your place far from Manchester–he wasn't all that surprised that you offered to pack his things while he was deployed with the help of his sister-in-law. He thought it was sweet, something nice he would somehow have to pay back for later.

As you were packing, it was Beth who first stumbled upon an object in Simon's closet that she innocently assumed was yours: a sexy set of lingerie. But it wasn't yours, you had never owned anything in that color. You didn't say much, only said a few words and threw it into an empty box.

Soon the box was half full of things that belonged to other women. Clothes, underwear, makeup, other beauty products, handwritten notes, and pictures as well. They were all memories of a life Simon had already left behind before you came into the picture.

You could tell that Beth was walking on eggshells around you, probably thinking you were upset about that certain box. In a way, she was right. Who wouldn't be? It just makes you wonder if these are old things, or new ones he hid from you on purpose.

A few days later Simon returned and you met at his apartment so you could show him all of the boxes that would be shipped to your place the next few days. He was grateful for all of the things you had done for him, and once his eyes fell on a sad lonely box with a question mark written on its top in the corner of the living room, he couldn't help but wonder what that was.

“What's with that box?” he asked, pointing at it.

You gulped, at the bottom of your heart feeling stupid for being a little insecure about this. “Well, those are… I'm not sure if that's your stuff, but I packed it nonetheless.”

“Why? What's in there?” he asked, already walking over to the box to open it. He took out a photo first, then his forearm disappeared between the cardboard walls as he checked the rest of the items. “Oh, shit. I'm sorry, I thought I threw away everything,” Simon told you as he stood up and walked over to you.

“It's okay.”

“No, it's not. These belong to my exes and shouldn't be here at all.”

“Si, it's okay,” you assured him with a smile as you placed a hand on his upper arm. “I know you're over them. But they were a part of your life once, you can't just magically erase them.” With a confused look on his face, Simon studied your face with interest. “Unless these got into your apartment after we got together–”

“They were here sooner,” he was quick to interrupt you.

You smiled as you watched him for a few seconds before going on. “Those relationships didn't work out, and those women made you the one I love so much now. If anything, I'm grateful for them.”

Simon stepped closer, standing toe to toe as he looked down at you, his lips curling into a smile. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he told you, his hands reaching out to wrap around yours. “I'll still throw these away. They shouldn't be around us.”

“Look, if there's anything you would like to keep, like a photo or something, just go ahead,” you said, although you weren't that confident on the inside.

He probably noticed because he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. “I don't need these. I only want to see your stuff in our place,” he mumbled into your hair.

[haliteatiger]

Happy Werewolf Wednesday, ya'll! We're serving up a big pot of tea tonight so get those cups ready!

Special thanks to Blackbackedjackal and King for their help in putting this together, editing, and especially to Jackal for being so supportive and encouraging. I'm very much not normally the type to do call-out posts, but people need to be aware of Dogblud, as she has hurt, not only myself, but quite a few others as well, and seems to have somehow gotten away with behaving like this for 20-odd years. I'm of the mind she shouldn't be allowed to do so any more, hence this post.

TL;DR - Beware of Dogblud, aka Ashryn, aka DogofBlud, aka ThatDogMagic. Very, very long post under the cut.

With everything happening with DogBlud and Blackbackedjackal's studio, I felt emboldened to come forward with my own experiences with her. This is something I've been carrying around since it happened roughly 2 years ago. It was one of the main reasons that put me off drawing werewolves, my own characters, or engaging any more in the fandom. I've hinted at it a few times but I've never had the energy to come forward and deal with the fall out. I wanted to move on with the rest of my life because IRL was more important than online drama. And I knew her behavior would come back to bite her sooner or later, regardless of what I did. 

It's been very validating to see that I was right.

It was around the time that Blud and I became friends that I was feeling a bit burnt out on werewolves. I'd been trying to pull together my own werewolf-related project for something close to 12 years. The past 4 years had also been pretty draining on me creatively and socially, as it had for a lot of artists with regards to the pandemic. I also had some IRL things I was dealing with: mainly with my marriage and transitioning between medications to manage my anxiety + bipolar.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to screenshot everything at the time. I do have logs from back when we roleplayed together. There are several conversations in them but because they were saved as text documents, they're pretty dubious in terms of solid evidence. 

It would have been better if I had taken screenshots as it was happening, rather than just saving the logs. With what I *do* have, however, I feel as though it may be enough to make the point that I'm trying to make, and to exhibit how horrible things got.

I'll provide some context.

I had talked with Blud on and off over the years, and we had always gotten along. We had a lot in common and after we had started talking more, our friendship eventually grew into a collaborative project. We were going to combine our stories and write a comic based on it. We had a lot of discussions on how Blud was reticent to do this in the beginning and how she wanted a contract to be made up so that in the event that something *did* happen, we could both walk away feeling like it was handled fairly.

Honestly, I should have listened to the first alarm that went off in my brain, when, in an act of ominous foreboding she said something along the lines of don't be so sure, it could happen. It was in response to me being like "we're getting along so well and share so much of a bond right now. I can't fathom that being a problem!" 

The contract never materialized. It was something we had decided to do *after* we had put together something of a prototype project to see how well we worked together. It made complete sense to me at the time as we were both eager to focus on the fun parts of writing and drawing together.

It was decided that I would be the lead artist (doing coloring and final lines) while Blud would do everything else (which was inking, layouts, and the majority of the writing). The both of us felt that she had more experience in those areas. I also believed that she had a better knack for it as well. I had felt that she had a better understanding of story structure than myself. And I thought that Blud had felt the same way about my art. That I had the experience to take point on that. 

Since I had collaborated with other artists and writers before, I attempted to approach the project with the same sort of professionalism I always do. Especially the projects that I genuinely thought stood a chance of being published in the future. We had started out trying to get a feel for each other's flows and rhythms. I had expected Blud to try and meet me in the middle of where our processes would potentially differ from one another, so that we could develop a fairly smooth workflow.

I had also expected, according to our discussions on the matter, that we would value each other's opinions on things and take them into consideration. We had such good synchronicity already.

In the beginning, there wasn't any unusual behavior that caught my attention. Blud was a bit uncomfortable with trying out new things but I did my best to accommodate her so that our project could move forward without too much turbulence. She had also mentioned to me before that she was autistic, and since my husband is also autistic, I knew how difficult it could be when it came to adapting to new routines. But when it was time for her to deliver the first set of layouts, it wasn't at all what I expected.

What I had expected was something with margins, clearly marked boxes, and figures that I could do rough lines over. I also expected notes that confirmed what we had discussed earlier about the project; that way I knew what she wanted or if there would be any changes. She took offense to this, feeling like I was violating our agreement. Though Blud did try to give me space with regards to the actual art, and while she would offer criticisms here and there, I trusted her opinion as an artist and as a friend. But apparently that didn't go both ways. In fact, Blud seemed to be offended that I expected more from her.

Blud agreed to concede. She suddenly seemed fine with the changes that I had asked for after seeing the layouts. I guess she was feeling overstimulated by the change and I might have been applying too much of a critical tone to her responses to begin with. I have had to deal with rejection sensitivity throughout my life and it's certainly prompted me to approach what people say to me online with a bit of scrutiny (sometimes too much).

And while I was mildly annoyed, although admittedly I was more concerned with Blud's overall reaction to my asking for clarification about several things in the layouts, I let it go. But it seemed like there was a problem. The majority of my ideas were either rejected or outright overridden with Blud convincing me that my faulty memory had made me unable to remember what we had agreed upon. Or that I might have been misremembering in my own favor.

There was one time where we were discussing a monster's design. Blud had already decided to settle on one design that she had come up with, even as I continued to offer other suggestions. The story was to take place in my setting, so I was under the impression that I got to decide what kind of creatures should populate it. The conversation ended somewhat ambiguously. I had assumed that we'd come to a solid conclusion later. 

I came back the next day and it turned out that we were using her design because that was what we had decided on. "Don't you remember? You really need to do something about that faulty memory of yours, Tek. I can't be doing this for you all the time."

At which point, Blud would go back and meticulously scour the conversation until she managed to find a set of lines that would make it seem as though I had 100% agreed. Even when I tried to explain that I had meant something else, she took it as an affront on her inability to understand nuances due to her autism.

I admit that my memory isn't that greatest at times, but I've never had anyone complain about it before. And none of my friends have ever minded providing reminders to me if I did misremember something incorrectly. We all forget stuff at times, right? It's *still* something that I'm self-conscious about because (like a lot of people with ADHD) my memory seems selective at times. This was, apparently, a problem that I needed to manage. 

And even as I'm remembering these incidents to the best of my ability, I've already spent so much time recounting all of this to friends. I feel confident in my recollection. There are some details that may overlap or become entwined with other things, but it all basically tells the same story. Especially in conjunction with what's been said by others. You're free to take it as hearsay since I do not have screenshots to back this up.

I will mention (since I've been told it's something that Blud has taken particular interest in) that at one point, I did have a crush on her. I was having some problems IRL, and it was nice to have someone whom I felt actually understood me. I also felt like I saw a lot of myself in her. I think that, at one point, I did describe her as the kind of "girlfriend" I would want. Blud seemed to indicate the feeling was mutual.

Between our collaborative partnership and all of the details we shared about our lives, it did feel like an intimate relationship at times. I had no intentions of pursuing it. We were not compatible in our romantic and sexual identities, and I had no intention of leaving my current partner for her.

I had begun to notice red flags, even if I wasn't ready to accept them yet.

I've had experience with abusive relationships in the past but they were in person, and not online. I knew what to look out for and yet I was being willfully ignorant about our friendship. I wanted to give Blud the benefit of the doubt. I wanted the project to work *so* badly that I was willing to work with her increasing demands as the months went by.

I had no idea that those demands would change into, quite literal, temper tantrums. It would then trigger my fawning response which was due to an abusive family situation that I had dealt with before I moved to Canada. The tactic was this: concede to someone until there was a time that they either understood reason or I had the chance to use it against them if necessary.

I started to take screenshots. I wish that I had taken a lot more of them so that everyone could get a better idea of what was happening. I did go back and manage to record the majority of the first outburst. It was the first inkling I had that Blud wasn't playing with a full deck of cards. I knew that that would be one of the first conversations that she would promptly delete. And consequently, I was right.

This assortment of screenshots will exhibit the first serious confrontation that Blud had with me. I am absolutely *not* proud of how I handled this. I was literally panicking at the time and doing whatever I could to get her to calm down. Because I have a temper that can look similar to this in person, I knew that I had to wait until the post-tantrum clarity would hit Blud. I tried my best to not lose my own temper in turn but looking back, I feel that I came off as sounding too timid.

I didn't want to ruin this project.

I wanted to make a comic with an individual that I admired and respected as a fellow artist. And, with me not knowing how to respond, my main priority was to not make things any worse than they already were.

Below is the conversation in its entirety:

I had taken this screenshot on my phone after I had stepped away to compose myself. Blud had handled the confrontation and criticism with a reasonable amount of apprehension. But what had not occurred to me was that I could have said something that would remind her of past experiences with a roleplaying group.

It was something that had evidently scarred Blud for life.

I took away the wrong things from what she had told me, choosing to focus on the aspects of the "betrayal" that had appeared to bother her the most. And in hindsight, I did not see the correlation. I was genuinely apologetic that I had hurt her feelings.

But I *will* critique Blud for her poor handling of the situation. Whether or not I had hurt her feelings, no one is entitled to act like this or claim that this is what attempting to resolve a problem should look like.

I wasn't sure on how to initially respond to Blud. It had been ages since I'd had to deal with someone flying off the handle like that.

The following screenshots are where the conversation picked up, after she had already deleted the above message:

We had weathered the "storm" and after Blud calmed down, she was ready to communicate. There was a part of me that was genuinely sincere when I apologized to her. I did mean it when I said that I had no intentions of hurting her and that I hadn't considered how my statement would sound to her.

I had hoped that this had been a stress response due to factors outside of our collaboration. And especially when I took into account how she had interacted with me in the past. I knew that Blud had a lot going on IRL, and that she had already put a considerable amount of energy into this project.

I had taken her meltdown more personally than she could perceive that I would, because this was something that was acceptable to her. She had a "condition" that would absolve her of these abhorrent meltdowns and I needed to get used to them if we were going to continue working on that project together.

I was shaking the entire time we were typing in the chat.

I was sincere in my responses. I really did want to work things out with Blud and give her the benefit of the doubt. I could have been taking the things that she said too personally or maybe I had been reading too much into the situation. Was there a chance that I could have been misreading her outburst? I tried my best to keep an open mind though I was still somewhat baffled by the fact that she would have meltdowns as often as she did.

I confided in my husband and some other friends about the situation. They were also bewildered by Blud's actions.

By this point, I was struggling with the reality that this collaboration was most likely *not* going to work out but I still wanted to try. I still cared about Blud. We would still hang out together and talk about things like music, our characters, or our stories.

While I did have the foresight to go back and screenshot this section, I wasn't fast enough to get screenshots of everything else that I will be going over. Blud *did* admit to going back and deleting certain exchanges due to a mixture of shame; not wanting to look at them when she would scroll through our conversations. 

In retrospect, it was very telling.

And even after that meltdown, I still enjoyed the friendship that I had with her. I kept my guard up but I was willing to make compromises on her behalf if it resulted in better communication between the two of us. Blud made me promise to immediately tell her if I had a problem with something. I also agreed to keep notes of our conversations.

It worked for the most part.

In the end though, it became apparent that Blud wasn't willing to do the same for me (even after we had an extended conversation about it). I then realized that I had been tasked with basically *managing* her autism for her. I was already busy with my supposedly "bad memory" at the time; and Blud was more than ready to scroll back up through our conversations to cherry-pick a line or two of text to remind me of what was said earlier.

Because, for her, circumstances couldn't ever change. If they did, it would mean that Blud had lost control of the situation and that she was in the wrong. She could *not* be in the wrong. 

And if she was in the wrong? It would take solid evidence, three witnesses, and a court of law to prove it.

She had two other major meltdowns after this. I managed to step away from communicating with her through one of them and I don't remember the other meltdown lasting very long. She immediately deleted the texts of both of those instances before I could take screenshots of them.

It seemed like I could do nothing right when it came to Blud, no matter the lengths I would go to accommodate her. I knew that it was a common tactic used by abusers. I finally accepted that our partnership wasn't going to work out and I began thinking about an exit strategy. The final straw was when she began to expect me to be at her beck and call.

I had promised that I would be there for her, within reason, and I was willing to offer reassurances whenever she would ask me for them. The promise had been made back when we had first started to talk to one another with more frequency, before Blud had shown me her true colors. I would end up completely underestimating just how badly she would need reassurance.

To be frank, I underestimated a lot about Blud in the beginning.

I would end up mentioning that I enjoyed my space in several different conversations with her. That there was a chance that I might be offline for several days so I could take care of things IRL and recharge my social batteries. I'm somewhat of a recluse. And an adult who enjoys things that aren't online.

She said that it was fine.

I became incredibly anxious when I would talk to Blud, especially after her somewhat abrupt change in personality.

I then attempted to put my foot down about boundaries and this is what she had to say:

I decided to walk away for a bit and I came back after I had had some time to think things over. This wasn't healthy for either of us. I wrote a couple of sentences to say goodbye to Blud before I blocked her. I knew that my actions would probably infuriate her. She had told me in the past that she *hated* not being able to have the final word... which she was able to do through email:

“And I'm not letting you pretend you have control over the situation, or the high ground. You distinctly have neither. But since you're determined to stick to your 'principles' on this, I've decided to make it easier for you.”

She thought that she was absolved of all sins just because I had said that I would stand by her at her worst. And at the time that I said that, I had no idea that her worst would be her trying everything possible to protect her boundaries while stomping all over mine. It didn't matter what she said or how often she would apologize when I would confront her. She kept doing it.

I admit that I wasn't perfect in this situation either.

There were times when I was condescending, critical, or downright mean when I talked to Blud because that was the way I had felt when she was talking to me. I soon realized that it didn't matter either way. I could have been using the friendliest tone imaginable and she still would have perceived it as either mocking or dismissive on my end. There were even a few times where I would preface my explanations with an advisory “please know that I am not attacking you and try to read this in an understanding tone,”etc. I would then post an explanation I had spent hours picking at to ensure that there was no way she could misinterpret the intent. Even so, she still read the majority of what I said as criticism and would take it to heart.

I never expected Blud to do something that made her uncomfortable; nor did I expect her to overextend herself when it came to our project. I would go out of my way to make sure everything was fine when we would talk about it. I only expected mutual respect in return.

When we would get into discussions (arguments), she would never attempt to understand my point of view or let me explain myself. It would have made it about me when it should have been about Blud and her needs. She sometimes would agree to come to a compromise about something, but only if I would admit that I was in the wrong.

I know that if Blud was to look at these screenshots, she'd be incredulous that I'm trying to distract from the horrible things that *I* did. And those horrible things that I did? I tried my best to work with her.

It wasn't just her poor teamwork that bothered me. It was her attitude and the lack of respect that she showed me. She would never ask me to clarify something that I said; always assuming that it was a criticism against her. I can only speculate that Blud did not want to hear about how any of this was her fault, like in the email she sent me.

I don't know if I was actually her friend at any point. Friends make efforts to understand one another. Ideally, they’d want their friendships to continue, and they would want everyone to be getting along and having fun. She seemed to actively defy that.

I would argue that things like this don't just happen in a vacuum. There's almost always a reason for such things, but it's honestly a mystery to me as to where this vitriol comes from. I don't know why Blud sees monsters in every word, especially if they come from a  "friend". 

I've seen her viscously mock herself during meltdowns; it seems like she hates herself and expects everyone else to hate her too. I think that she wants it to be the truth, so that it validates the feelings she has about herself. The behavior patterns that I'd been exposed to are consistent with the idea that Blud is seeking confirmation about the personal assumptions she has about herself. It's what makes her so volatile to those around her. Yet, she refuses to break the cycle.

I hope that she can make that choice in the future but at this point, I'm not holding my breath.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Pancakes For Brunch - William Afton/Steve Raglan X Female Reader

Title: Pancakes For Brunch

William Afton/Steve Raglan X Female Reader

Additional Characters: N/A

WC: 1,715

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, nicknames, slight mention of William's past, Post Five Night's At Freddy's movie, very brief mention of death, teasing, banter, and overall huge fluff

You awoke as a pair of lips pressed against the back of your neck, soft facial hair tickling your skin, making you smile sleepily. The bed squeaked a bit as William moved behind you, lifting himself slightly to peer over at you, his gaze roaming lazily up your bare shoulder, and neck, before finally settling on your face. Propped up onto his arm, he raised his hand to brush your hair away from your face, eyes trailing along your beautiful features before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the space behind your ear. Your heart fluttered as he did so. 

"Morning," You muttered, slowly turning to lay on your back, staring up at William as he stared right down at you. A gentle hand rested on your hip, his thumb rubbing circles into your warm skin, which was just barely covered by your pajama shirt - that may or may not have been one of his button-ups. 

William continued to stare, admiring you in the early morning light that sprinkled between the curtains, eyes taking in every feature of your face. You smiled sweetly at him, running your fingers lightly through his thick, graying locks; nails scratching at his scalp deliciously. He leaned in for another long, lingering kiss, and after a moment, he pulled back; his lips brushing against yours. His body heat washed over you as his breath mixed with yours. He let out a deep sigh as he finally spoke, "Morning, sweetheart." His voice was gravelly, rough with sleep; it sent shivers down your spine. 

Rolling back on his side, William tugged you into him, his arms wrapping around you and bringing your body close to his. You snuggled up under his chin as he laid back against the pillows and tucked his nose in the crook of your neck; inhaling deeply. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo, his fingers idly playing with the ends of your hair as you looped your leg over his waist, laying your head on top of his chest.

The two of you were quiet for a while, listening to the sounds of birdsong outside your window. You shifted slightly, raising your hand to allow your fingers to gently brush across William's bare chest, lightly caressing the scars along his midsection. You still couldn't get over how lucky you were, not only to have William in your life but to have found him alive, withering in pain in that corroding suit. But you didn't want to think or dwell on those thoughts and memories. Instead, you focused on the present, focusing on him, the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

"We're not going to get up for a while, are we?" You muttered, pressing your lips to his shoulder. Your voice was muffled from having your face buried in his chest; you were sure he could hear you, but he did not indicate it, simply pulling you closer into his embrace.

"Probably not," William replied, resting his cheek atop your head as he stroked your arm.

You smiled softly, shutting your eyes briefly, "Good." You sighed out, "I don't wanna get up."

You heard William chuckle, his breath ruffling the baby hairs on your forehead and temple. He tightened his grip on you as you relaxed further, "Well then, I'll keep you here all day if that's what you'd like."

"We will have to get up sooner or later," You reminded him, opening your eyes slightly to meet his gaze, "It's almost noon. And we need groceries."

Letting out a sigh through his nose, William spoke, "What do we need?"

Brushing the tips of your fingers through his short beard, you answered, "Milk, ground meat, bacon, carrots - preferably those baby ones, oh- and eggs..." You paused, thinking of other essentials, "... And maybe cereal." You finished.

"Alright," He murmured quietly, "When do you want to go?"

"Not right now, that's for sure," You let your eyes flutter shut, covering your mouth with your hand as you let out a small yawn. "I wanna cuddle some more. It's Saturday, after all." William chuckled, kissing your temple before burying his nose in your hair again. You smiled into his chest, relaxing into his embrace.

~~~

Soft music played through the radio as you stood at the stove, occasionally flipping some pancakes on a pan, humming along; softly swaying your hips to the beat. It was well past noon once you and William got out of bed, where the both of you had spent the remainder of the morning. You had been going back and forth on what to eat for breakfast before you and William both settled on pancakes, strawberries, and orange juice. Well orange juice for you, William took this time to make his coffee. 

Flipping the finished pancake on the empty plate, you grabbed the batter and poured the remaining thick liquid into the pan, your smile widening as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Pressing your back into William's chest, you poked the cooking pancake with your spatula. You hummed happily as he kissed your shoulder before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

"How many pancakes do you want, honey?" You asked, flipping the pancake over. 

William couldn't get over you. Every time he saw you he felt the same way he did the first time he laid eyes on you - warm, fuzzy inside, and filled with so many feelings, yet completely overwhelmed by them. He couldn't explain it, but he felt drawn to you; there was something about you that drew him to you; call it love, or an obsession, or both. Whatever it was, he could never resist you; every ounce of his being wanted nothing more than to keep you close to him.

"Just one," He replied softly as you turned off the stove and gave William a quick peck on the lips before - reluctantly - moving out of his arms. 

You grabbed the two plates, bringing them to the table as William brought your orange juice and his coffee. Eating quietly together, William slid his knife into the pancake, picking it up a piece on his fork before dipping it in the syrup on the side of his plate. Looking up at you, he grinned lightly, raising his fork out towards you. Looking from him to the piece of pancake, and back, you raised an eyebrow. "Say 'ah,'" He said, his eyes glinting as you bit back a teasing smile.

"I have my own pancakes, Will." You said, gesturing to the pile in front of you. As expected, William just tilted his head slightly, gesturing to the slice of pancake on his fork with a short bob of his raised hand.

"Hmm, but I think mine tastes better." He said simply, making you scoot your plate to the side, allowing you to rest your forearms on the table as you leaned forward slightly.

Gazing over at the man you loved, you grinned right back, "Did I add too much love into it?" You asked playfully, only for William's grin to widen a fraction.

"See for yourself." His tone was laced with charm as he held out his fork, the piece of pancake on it coated in maple syrup. You leaned forward slowly, William lifting the piece of food to your mouth, letting it slip past your lips as you took a bite. His eyes watched as you chewed, your eyes closed - a hum escaping you - before you swallowed, opening your eyes and meeting his. Dropping his fork upon his plate, William reached out with his hand, his thumb brushing the sticky syrup from your bottom lip. You watched with bated breath as he brought his thumb to his lips, sucking off the remnants of the syrup; his eyes remaining on you. You licked your bottom lip unconsciously, tasting the syrup and hints of strawberry, watching as his eyes followed. A small smile curled up on his lips before he dropped his hand, leaning back against the chair. 

This man was killing you.

Letting out a shaky breath, you sat back in your own chair, chewing on your bottom lip for a second, before speaking, "Yeah, I definitely added a lot more love into yours." You couldn't help but crack a tiny grin at the end before a small silence fell between you. Clasping your hands together, you tilted your head to the side before resting your clasped hands under your chin, "I know what you're doing."

"Oh, really?" William mused as he glanced around the dining room, "And what am I doing, sweetheart?"

"You, Will," You sighed out, unable to stop the smile from growing on your face, "Are trying to get out of grocery shopping."

Feigning innocence, he asked, "And why would I do such a thing?"

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as you continued to eat, swallowing your food before continuing, "You hate grocery shopping. And you think buttering me up will get you out of it. You're trying to distract me."

"Am I?" William questioned with a smirk, his blue eyes dancing as they met yours; he was greatly amused.

Rolling your eyes again, you pushed away from the table, "Yeah. Yeah, you are. And it’s not going to work this time. I’m craving Fruity Pebbles. Come on, let's finish eating and get going."

Huffing, William stood, picking up his plate. He hated grocery shopping but when it came to spending the day with you, he always went - unless he was able to distract you long enough that you forgot about it all together or just gave up. He just wanted you all to himself, to be perfectly honest. 

~~~

“But Clara, the baby isn’t mine!”

Cuddled up into William’s side, you ate your Fruity Pebbles thoughtfully as you watched one of your favorite shows that was playing on the television. 

“Do you think the baby’s his?” You asked William, sarcastic, obviously, as you watched the vampire’s baby flying around as a bat. 

William tugged you closer into his side, an arm wrapped securely around your waist, as the other was holding your hand in his lap. “Nah…” He grinned, looking down at you briefly with a small, toothy grin. “I doubt it.”

---

Main Masterlist | FNAF Masterlist

[mentallyisekaid]

「 ✦ Fatui Harbingers x Signora's Sister! Reader, PART 3 ✦ 」

---

Part 1 Part 2 Part 2.5 [Part 3]

It's highly recommended to read the parts in order, otherwise few things will make sense!

A/N ~ hey there, if you're following this story but haven't yet seen my pinned post, you should go and read it since it's where I'll update general stuff regarding the fic~

---

Featured in this chapter, we have... a certain dubious duo?

Warnings: half-intentional ooc moments

Word count: 2.3k

---

A week or so had passed.

It's not that you were complaining about this endless 'trial period', per se. Still, just going through piles of boring documents, day after day - any immortal being would've lost their mind sooner or later.

Half a millennium dulled all shine there was to a mundane life, so seeking out a bit of excitement was crucial for maintaining sanity. But even making bets with Childe wasn't thrilling enough (though it did come close!)

Without a drastic change of pace soon, you might have just gone feral.

And your colleagues were quite aware of it~ In time, you better believe they would've even stolen the Moon from the sky for you if you only asked for it, but nevertheless, first, you needed to prove that they could trust you.

The Fatui took immense pride in loyalty - yet yours was very fickle, and they knew it. But rather than allegiance, what your Harbingers seeked for was sign of your devotion toward them, something that exceeded the boundaries of professionalism and demonstrated... a much deeper level of trust.

"Was revealing the secret of this stupid Vision a mistake, after all?" a thought that had plagued your mind.

Well, who could say... but apparently, it had been worth it!

No one could really fathom Pierro's decisions, but it seems that after hearing you'd confided a part of your past to some of them, the Director had thought you'd proved yourself enough. And maybe it was because he knew you just a bit too well, having been there all those centuries ago.

But did this mean that all of them now knew of your little conversation with Scaramouche, Columbina and Childe?

Well, such a thought hardly occupied you.

Because more importantly, you were finally about to get (*insert an ominous fanfare*)...

Your very first field mission!

Good riddance, eternal paperwork~

---

A sign of their trust, or... just another test?

You didn't care either way.

"Lady Harbinger," a Cicin Mage had bowed her head after entering your office. "The Jester has assigned you to an official errand with Lords Ninth and Second. You are to rendezvous with them at the gates. Effective immediately."

And girl, you couldn't have bolted out of that room faster! It made the poor Cicins squeak in alarm. The mage only sighed while shaking her head, not sure that you'd come out of this one with your sanity still intact.

So, your bored prayers had been heard. But by the gods, or a devil? A field assignment with this specific pair of Harbingers had the potential to turn out chaotic beyond belief...

and you were all for it!

It was daybreak in Snezhnaya.

The early morning air was even more frigid than usual, making your grip the coat on around you tighter as you waltzed through the snowy yard. From a distance, you could make out two shadowy figures next to the gates of Zapolyarny Palace, their menacing auras unmistakable.

When Regrator and Il Dottore were working together, anyone even remotely involved had better be on their guard...

Lest they wanted to end up in horrible debt.

Or as a part of human experiments.

But the shady banker and the heretic researcher had failed to intimidate you, and they found such fearlessness quite... captivating.

As you got closer, Pantalone offered you a warm smile.

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?"

"Hello... and no, *yawn*... it's impossible to get decent rest with these working hours. But," a smile made its way onto your lips, "I'm pleased to finally get to work outside of the palace~"

And with the two of you, it might just be twice as fun, a totally weird thought that you didn't voice out, and instead sighed:

"Though, at the cost of skipping my yummy breakfast pancakes..."

You took a bite from the frostbitten, red fruit in your hand. This earned a chuckle from Dottore.

"No, no, you won't get sufficient vitamins from that. How about trying the special pills I gave you? You'd help me with my research while you're at it, too..."

"I'm afraid your experimental supplements might end up turning me into a slime."

An apple a day hardly kept this doctor away. But much to everyone's surprise, you seemed to know how to handle his eccentric personality and... the segments. Even Scaramouche was impressed by this.

"Don't you look rather young today, Zandik?" you questioned with a hint of playfulness; a habit you'd picked up from Damselette.

The Doctor only replied with a smile, gently sweeping away a few snowflakes from your hair as if admiring a most precious specimen (no objectifying here, Dottore's just being Dottore~)

This one seemed to be of the more reasonable segments, if such a concept even existed - though regardless of the form, you were really quite fond of their antics.

Pantalone, too, was a difficult person in his own way, knowing how to both frustrate you to no ends, and yet make you feel so endeared.

As usual, the banker seemed just a bit too amused by everything.

That, and he found you adorable.

"Hehe, I must admit that dealing with the two of you off-duty is always rather delightful~ but we ought to leave duly," he stepped forward and offered you his hand. "After all, we wouldn't want to be late on Y/N's first mission, now would we?"

Dottore mimicked his gesture. "Indeed, off we go."

These two....

But on that note?

"Dare I ask," you raised an eyebrow, "what the mission might be?"

They only smiled at you - Pantalone while adjusting his glasses, Dottore with his expression half hidden by that asymmetrical mask, and both in a suspiciously mellow way.

You frowned. Pierro had definitely been up to something when sending you on a nameless errand, and with this dubious duo, no less...

and you were quite enjoying the suspense!

---

Three Harbingers waltzing through the snowy streets, a dozen of Fatui agents following close behind, was a slightly unnerving sight; one could only wonder who had wronged the infamous organization this time, and pray the lot wouldn't fall on them.

Someone sure was out of their luck today.

You tried to ignore the not so subtle gazes the citizens threw you as you walked past them, though understanding their curiosity.

It was the first public appearance of the rumoured 12th Harbinger, after all.

Feeling a bit self-conscious, you tried to distract yourself by focusing on the scenery. It had been over a month since you'd last set foot outside the palace grounds, but Snezhnaya's beauty never faltered...

At some point, you got a bit lost in thought.

Dottore's lazy comment, however, caught your attention.

"Now then, I've heard some interesting things about that Pyro Vision of yours…"

Pantalone smiled, as if oblivious.

You sighed. "Well, that's unsurprising. From Scaramouche, I reckon."

"Tsk, you have so little imagination." The Doctor clicked his tongue. "Then, allow me to ask you... How long do you think the oldest one of my segments has been around? Or, how efficiently all these clones are capable of gathering information? Or, how much more I can figure out just by knowing a few things about you?"

"Such roundabout hints, Doctor."

"What he's trying to say, of course," Pantalone chimed in, "is that the Second pf the Harbingers has many... unconventional ways of finding out what his curiosity desires."

You sighed, "and he shares everything with you, because why not?"

Not very surprising.

It was granted that your secrets were never going to remain hidden from them forever, and frankly speaking, you didn't care. Pierro was already aware of every scandalous detail there was to your past anyway, so was there a reason for you to be so reticent about it?

Well, certainly not anymore...

but it was still a tad too early to completely let your guard down either!

A weird silence filled the air for a while, probably making the lower ranks behind you a bit uncomfortable.

But since Pantalone and Dottore didn't pursue on the topic, you thought, 'why should I either?'

Yet they obviously expected you to.

"Then," you sighed, giving in, "I assume you want to ask me about something? My Visions, no doubt."

Pantalone patted your head, "Only if our little Harbinger wouldn't deem it prying."

"I do, but go ahead."

Knowing them to be exceedingly shrewd characters, manipulating others so effortlessly, you realized these two could have easily lead you into a trap here. But somehow, this subtle controlling was always done gently enough not to hurt you.

And they never would, surely.

One way or another, though, they always found out what they wanted...

Pantalone gestured the Fatui agents to put some distance between them and the three of you - was it courtesy, or maybe... protectiveness? Either way, it would prevent bothersome rumours about your past from spreading any further, so you gave him an appreciative smile.

Dottore was walking leisurely with his hands behind his back, giving you sidelong glances.

"Then, tell me, Y/N - why do you think Celestia grants Visions so heedlessly? Why is it that even some of the strongest individuals never receive one?"

The vapor from your breath formed clouds in the cold air as you took a few deep breaths before answering.

"Well, I can only speak for myself. I've always been ambitionless and ran away from all my problems rather than facing them. So, thinking back, I never should've received a Vision in the first place, fake or not."

You sighed, "Rosalyne, on the other hand... I think she had every right to get a blessing from those crafty deities. She was assertive, gifted - a bit of a diva at times - but somewhere beneath lied a gentle soul."

And here you were again, talking about her; she haunted you when she was alive, and haunted you as dead.

Pantalone raised an eyebrow. "My, I've never heard anyone say such things about the Fair Lady?"

Dottore, too, seemed reluctant to accept these praises you directed at your sister, as he'd only seen her as a shallow, crude woman.

"Don't get me wrong, though," you commented, "she was no saint..."

"But?"

You shrugged, "...nor was I."

The two Harbingers had quietly moved closer to you, now walking on your both sides. You only noticed this when their arms slightly brushed against yours.

"After my father created this... thing and gave it to me, and how I greedily accepted it, I always wondered if we had angered the gods so thoroughly that they didn't grant my sister a Vision out of pure spite."

Pantalone brushed a loose strand of hair from your face.

"Perhaps... you shouldn't be so merciless toward yourself."

"I'm not. Rosalyne and I were very similar, after all."

Dottore raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"We both wanted what we felt we deserved - power, attention... acceptance. I don't know whose yearning was greater, but neither one of us settled for any less. So, I tied a manmade Vision on my hips, and Rosalyne left to study the art of liquid fire in the Akademiya; the divine refused to acknowledge us, so we searched for our due elsewhere."

Pantalone stroked his chin, seemingly amused. "Well, what a pair of blasphemous sisters?"

"However," the Doctor chuckled, "what you did surely made those self-important gods grit their teeth in frustration. I find such heresy quite commendable. Bravo, truly~"

"And then you went and became a Fatui Harbinger," Pantalone sighed. "Poor Celestia, they couldn't shackle you..."

You didn't know whether to laugh or cry at their comments.

"Though, I am curious about one thing," Pantalone continued. "You said Celestia 'rejected' you, yet here you are, with a bona fide Cryo Vision? Isn't that a sign that the gods did, in fact, accept you?"

It was something you'd been wondering ever since that day as well...

And the lamentable conclusion was this:

"Perhaps Celestia just took pity on me. Or, perhaps the Vision was intended as a warning."

"A warning?" Pantalone smiled eerily. "For what reason exactly, my dear?"

To keep your mouth shut?

To not cross such lines ever again?

And yet... "That's a story for a later time," you told them as well, smiling.

Dottore and Pantalone were adept at concealing how they really thought and felt about things, so you couldn't quite decipher their reactions to your cryptic words.

Still, a fleeting sentiment had flashed across their faces - resentment, perhaps. Not toward you, though.

Suddenly, they both stopped walking.

You took a few steps more before noticing and stopping as well, glancing at them over your shoulder.

"Well, would you look that? Time flies so pleasantly with Y/N around." Pantalone checked his pocket watch. "It seems we're here a bit early."

...and where was 'here', exactly?

It looked like a small, secluded village, somewhat. There were no proper houses, just some dilapidated cottages and cabins, and only a few of them. The people outside, wearing clothes way too ragged and light for this type of weather, had quickly fled inside once seeing the Fatui had arrived.

You knew there was a lot of poverty in rural Snezhnaya, but this was... well, it reminded you of the times when you'd struggled to get by as well - memories you'd rather never have had brought up again.

Dottore mumbled something about "these ones" being "too malnourished for test subjects" as he walked past you.

Pantalone had also went ahead with his subordinates, discussing some questionable economics that apparently concerned this place.

But you lingered behind them for a moment, lost in thought.

The people here have surely lost enough, so why choose to bring themselves even more misfortune by getting involved with the Fatui? I understand the way humans think less and less with every decade that passes...

Just now noticing that you hadn't followed them, the two Harbingers strode back to your side.

You quickly hid any remnant of hesitance from your face, giving them a smile.

"Time to prove myself, no?"

Dottore chuckled, "You don't seem too anxious about your first field mission, my little Harbinger, even though you don't know what's waiting up ahead..."

"Well," you sighed. "For the Tsaritsa, and all that... you know? And I reckon I've faced worse anyway."

"I'll ask you to elaborate on that some other time~ On a similar note," Pantalone mused, playing with your hair softly, "we all saw something in you that day, at the funeral, and it seems... you really won't disappoint us?"

You shrugged, "We should hope so."

And with their arms loosely linked around yours, the two Harbingers started leading you toward a particular cabin...

(to be continued)

[seethesin]

rotaries and roses

pairing: Tattoo Artist!Corky x Florist!F!Reader

tags/warnings: modern au, tattoo artist/florist trope, first time tattoos, suggestive themes, cursing, teasing

a/n: requested by anonymous here. this was my biggest challenge yet because... this is smut free and i don't have tattoos 😭 i hope you guys don't mind how many liberties i took with this! as there are no gif hunts of gina as corky, this will have a gifless format. enjoy! 🥰

You found yourself at Corky's by the recommendation of a close friend. Every time you mentioned your desire for a tattoo, they would practically beg you to give the tattoo shop a chance before pulling up their Instagram page. The first thing you noticed was the address. The tattoo shop was on the same street as your flower shop; how you hadn't noticed it sooner was beyond you.

Your friend was right. You needed to take your ass over there. And now, there was no excuse not to.

Out of all the artists featured, the owner, Corky, had your favorite designs. Her Neo-Traditional style blew you away, and it was the post featuring a canvas with an array of roses that sealed the deal. They had always been your favorite flower, regardless of the stereotypical label they held. Every bouquet of roses that leaves your shop always receives your special attention. They never fail to bring a smile to your face, regardless of the color, quantity, or occasion. To have them on your body felt right to you and you wanted them in Corky's signature style.

You spent the rest of that evening mulling over what you wanted. It took you a few more days, but finally, you came to a decision. You wanted a ram surrounded by Corky's roses. A ribbon would wind around the portrait of the ram with the phrase: My will is sturdy inscribed on it. The design was perfect and you knew Corky would do your vision justice.

Your consultation was the first time you meant Corky outside of emailing her. A studded leather jacket was haphazardly thrown over her white tank top. You couldn't tell what brand of jeans she wore, but they did wonders for her legs. Her steel-toed boots clicked on the hardwood floor as she came to greet you. You accepted her offered hand into a shake and couldn't stop yourself from memorizing the callouses on her palm within those few, fleeting seconds. Her brown hair was perfectly unkempt and a permanent, knowing smirk was glued onto her face.

"I'm Corky."

She was hot. You were fucked.

After your initial greetings, she brought you to the back where her desk was so you both could work through your design. You found as many references as possible, including the same array of roses you saw on her shop's Instagram page. Corky chuckled fondly as she examined the canvas, lips quirking into a genuine smile.

"This is some of my older work," she mused as if she was warning you. Her gaze flickered through her lashes, brow quirked inquisitively at you.

"It's one of my favorites," you admit and Corky's smile only grows at your confession.

The close proximity allows you to catch onto her scent: fresh smoke and citrus. You want her to tattoo it into your lungs.

"Give me an hour and I'll have something nice for you. I'll call you when I'm finished."

One phone call later and you were back in her shop. Unsure of proper etiquette in the tattooing world, you had brought back coffee for both yourself and Corky. You needed a pick me up and it felt strange not to share with her. Shyly, you offered her a cup which she graciously accepted. Your guess of Corky taking her coffee black was right; you swallow a smile at the thought. She leads you back to her desk so she can present you her work.

It's overwhelming how beautiful Corky's art is. Everything about it is perfect and truly, you can't think of anything else to add, remove, or change. The roses woven through the ram's horns, the brilliant blue outline, and the delicate font she chose for the banner were small details you would have never considered on your own.

Your lack of a verbal response makes Corky laugh, leaning in closer.

"Stunned ya speechless, huh?" she teased and you can't help but laugh with her.

"It's gorgeous, Corky."

There's something on Corky's tongue as she pauses. Silently, you watch her shake whatever thought it was away before refocusing on you.

"Where do you want this?"

You pause to think.

"I think my thigh would be the best. I've read that it's one of the better places to get your first tattoo."

This information slaps a smile back on her face.

"You read right. That works for me."

Soon after, you discuss the rest of the housekeeping tasks regarding your tattoo. Once you put an initial deposit down, you decide on a date a month later. You bid Corky goodbye and return to your flower shop to close up for the night. Before you retire to bed, you start working on a custom rose bouquet for one of your clients.

The roses are beautifully crimson, just like the ones Corky drew for you.

"I'll be with ya in a moment!" A disembodied voice calls from the next room over at the sound of the doorbell. You nod—more to yourself—before shutting the door behind you.

A month blew by quicker than you anticipated. Tonight, you found yourself awkwardly stationed at the front door of Corky’s tattoo shop with a cup of coffee in each hand. On her recommendation, you came well-fed, hydrated, and with eight hours of sleep under your belt. You donned a loose, simple dress, figuring it would make Corky's job tonight easier.

What you didn't realize was that she booked you as her closer tonight. The shop was empty and immediately, you felt yourself sweating. Silently, you asked whatever higher powers existed to refrain from making you out into a fool tonight.

Shifting on your heels, you visibly brighten at the sound of Corky's boots thundering towards you. She appears from the backroom, grinning ear to ear as she walks towards you. She's clad in another plain white tank top and dark jeans, revealing the complex sleeves her leather jacket hid. The most notable tattoo is of a labrys on her upper arm.

"Hey stranger," she greets, raising her brows as you offer her a coffee cup. "You spoil me; thank you."

You don't miss the way her eyes drag down your frame.

Corky's fingers slide against yours as she takes the coffee from you. Her touch is electric and you hold back from shivering. If something so innocuous got to you, you don't know how you'll last tonight.

"My pleasure." You don't mean to sound so breathless, but you were currently recovering from her touch. Corky merely smiles and beckons you to follow her. You do so wordlessly, stepping up and over to her workstation.

She sifts through her desk before pulling out the stencil of your tattoo. Turning on her heel, she presents it to you and you nearly choke on your coffee.

It’s perfect.

Every detail from her initial artwork has been transcribed onto the stencil. You find yourself hypnotized as you lean in closer. It needs to be on your body now.

"Corky," you start and she laughs, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You do so quickly, placing your belongings on an empty side table out of the way.

"Don't go worshipping me yet," she teases, easily picking up on the dreaminess laced in your voice.

She drags over a small, wheeled cart, completely set up for your session. You're unfamiliar with everything on it, but you watch carefully as she sets up her rotary machine. After checking to make sure you didn't have a latex allergy, Corky puts on a pair of black, single-use gloves.

"I still gotta tattoo it."

Pulling her stool over, her gloved hand goes to your thigh. The edge of her thumb grazes the hem of your dress and tenderly—so tenderly you might faint—she pushes the skirt up. You meet her in the middle, pulling it the rest of the way so it settles just over your hips. Cool air immediately rushes between your thighs and you've never felt more exposed. Corky guides your leg towards her and the thought of her face buried in your cunt flashes in your mind. Swiftly, you shake it away.

You allow her to position you as she sees fit while she preps your skin. Once satisfied, she presses the stencil to your skin to transfer the design. It takes all of your restraint to stay still and on the chair. How were you going to make it through a two hour session?

"Go check it out in the mirror." Corky points her thumb behind her and her voice sucks you back from your reverie.

Holding your dress skirt up, you walk to the wall mirror and examine the design. Turning to her, you hold a thumb up as she stares intensely at the exposed flesh. She hums in approval and you hurry back onto the chair. You get comfortable and again, Corky's hands are on your thigh. She's readjusting you and your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning.

"Are you ready?"

You nod.

"Let's begin."

The first ten minutes are relatively quiet. The buzz of the rotary is the only thing distracting you from the dull pain in your thigh. Well, that and the fact that her other hand is gripping your thigh in a way that makes your head spin. Corky pipes up first over the noise.

"What do you do?"

You beam; you adore answering this question.

"I'm a florist!" You watch as Corky's brows raise in interest, her gaze intensely fixed on your leg as she works. "I actually own the flower shop just up the street."

The buzzing stops completely and her eyes are glued to your face, lips parted in surprise.

"You own Fern & Flora?"

You nod proudly, practically glowing from the recognition.

"No shit; one of my girls, Sue, is there every two weeks buying flowers for her girlfriend."

Corky's machine whirs back to life and the prickly pain on your thigh returns. You hum to yourself, going over a mental list of your regulars and who could fit the profile Corky described.

"She's always going on about how her girlfriend likes the—"

"Violets." You finish thoughtfully, unable to stop the genuine smile growing across your face. "Margaret's favorite flowers are violets and Sue never lets me forget it."

You watch the way Corky's face softens as you speak. Her thumb presses against your inner thigh and your breath hitches quietly in your throat.

"What's your favorite flower?"

Staring down at her in disbelief, a chuckle pushes from your throat. You gesture to the tattoo she was currently working on, hoping to highlight the array of roses she was getting ready to outline.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Corky's shoulders raise into a shrug, glancing up at you quickly before refocusing on your thigh.

"Hey, forgive me for making small talk." The smile in her voice is evident and you find yourself grinning along with her.

"What's your favorite flower?" You toss the question back to Corky, ready to take her answer and brand it into the back of your mind.

She takes a moment to think about your question. If it wasn't obvious already, you could tell that this was something Corky hadn't previously thought about.

"I think I'm going to have to swing by your shop at some point to answer that question."

You can't help but blush. Was she flirting with you?

"I'd like that," you admit, fiddling with your fingernails.

Corky doesn't respond, instead reabsorbing herself back into her work. But a sly smirk plays on her lips and you have to stare up at the ceiling to keep your thoughts at bay.

"I think you'd like cornflowers." You finally state after a minute of silence. The cool colors and perky petals reminded you of Corky's persona. The bouquets that you crafted with them were some of your favorites so far.

"I think I'd like anything you recommend."

Okay, she's definitely flirting with you. Brazenly, you reply with: "Then I recommend you visit me sooner rather than later."

"Oh yeah?" There's a teasing edge in Corky's voice and you feel the warmth rise to your cheeks. Her voice drops an octave lower and you've completely disregarded the pain in your thigh. "And why's that?"

In that moment, you’ve forgotten everything about yourself. The only things you could comprehend were Corky’s hands groping your flesh and the irritating whizzing of the rotary. You suddenly feel hot and the idea of stripping your dress off grows more attractive with each passing second.

“I want to make a bouquet for you.” The sentence is rushed from your own nervousness, but you mean every word. “The sooner you stop by, the better of a selection I’ll still have for the season.”

Caught off guard, Corky sputters out a cough. However, she doesn’t stop working. The machine is still on as she finishes the outline of your tattoo without issue. You glance down curiously and witness her face flush crimson. A delighted giggle squeezes from your throat and you swear Corky blushes deeper than before.

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Your laughter is replaced with a kind smile. “Promise?”

She nods.

The rest of your session goes swiftly. Corky works like a machine: detailed, efficient, and insanely accurate. Your small talk comes and goes in waves, more so that she can focus on her work above all else. With a final wipe of her towel, your tattoo is finished two hours later. She grins eagerly before looking up at you.

"Wanna check it out?"

You don't miss a beat: "Uh, of course!"

You practically spring off the chair, stretching your legs as you scurry over to the mirror. The hem of your dress is still bawled in your fists as you stare at your thigh. You can hear Corky snickering at you while you fawn over her work.

"Holy shit..." You are awestruck and you turn to her, gaping before turning back to the mirror.

"It looks incredible," she agrees, discarding her gloves before pulling the rolling cart over to the side and out of the way. She goes to her workstation, pulls a few documents out, and scribbles something down as you continue to gape and stare at your new tattoo.

You return to Corky's workstation, gathering your belongings as you ready your wallet. She turns to face you again, handing you paperwork and guidance on how to maintain your new tattoo. You listen to her instructions carefully, unable to stop yourself from staring at her chapped lips every few moments.

"Do you have any questions?" You shake your head, averting your gaze to the papers she gave you. It essentially regurgitated what she said aloud, but you were thankful to have something written to refer to. Corky had also included her business card that you examined, noting the handwritten number just below her professional contact information.

"Actually, I do have a question," you start, not looking up from the papers in your hands. "Do you give all of your clients your personal number?"

Turning the documents to Corky, you point at the handwritten digits just below her work email. She flushes briefly before clearing her throat.

"Well no," she starts and a grin is already curling on your lips, watching as she gathers her thoughts. "But I figured it would make sense to give it to you. For tomorrow."

You hum thoughtfully, glancing over at her workstation before looking at her.

"Can I borrow that?" You gesture at a Sharpie marker on the side and she snatches it up before handing it to you.

"Give me your arm."

Corky stares at you, bewildered by your demand, but obediently offers her right arm to you. Your fingers clasp her wrist, outstretching it so that her fingertips just barely graze the top of your chest.

You miss the sharp inhale Corky takes.

Carefully, you jot your phone number down, making sure to avoid writing over the pinup girl tattoo facing you. Once finished, you push the cap back on and place the marker in her open palm.

"For tomorrow," you parrot, giddily watching the flustered look wash over Corky's face. She nods quickly, clutching the marker before stammering for you to follow her so she can take the rest of your payment. You trail behind her, already working out flower combinations in your mind for Corky's bouquet.

Out of all the ones you can think of, cornflowers and roses are the most fitting.

🦇 tag list: @crvptidsmain, @astroph1les, @uraesthete

[bipp-bopp-time-to-stop]

A Collection of Obsession

I'll admit that it was my own procrastination this time around that stopped me from posting this sooner. But it's done now and at the time of posting this I have less than twenty minutes until I leave for work so I am rushing. This piece is not as thoroughly proofread as my others so far and I wanted to try something different (meaning that I didn't want to write a torture scene). Instead, y'all get to enjoy Legend being an absolute little creepy bastard man.

TW: Lots of suggestive stuff but nothing explicitly stated, yandere themes, brief mentions of blood, I want to put a restraining order on Legend after writing this

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“If I may bring your attention over here, dear customer, I think you’ll find that these wares are more to your liking. Take this copper and quartz bracelet, for example! Though it may not glimmer like gems and gold or match well with any gowns or suits, it serves its purpose in a more practical way than fashionable. Here- touch it! Yes… yes, you feel that? It’s a spell of protection! And a potent one at that! You see, copper and quartz are great choices for enchantments as they…”

Though he may consider Ravio a good friend, Legend can only listen to him prattle on for so long. And when you were the one listening to the purple rabbit with such rapt attention? No matter how mundane the object or how simple the spell might be? Gods, Legend would have to shove a sock down his throat to get him to shut up.

But… Legend can’t exactly blame the merchant for his gabbiness. He can’t blame anyone for acting giddy around you. He and his brothers would know.

Any and everything you did just… did something nothing else could. Legend could take all sorts of pain medication or even healing potions, but it’d do nothing to soothe out the deep aches in his muscles and bones. But when you would offer to massage his shoulders when he had flare ups? Calm and pleasure would seep into his joints and bones like he had taken a day’s long soak in a hot spring.

Your genuine reactions were another thing that Legend found so precious. Despite having traveled with him and the rest for months, you still oohed and ahhed at anything with a hint of magic in it. Even when feeling an appropriate level of fear towards monsters, he could always see some hint of awe in your eyes. Not to mention the pure wonder he witnessed when you were greeted by the sights of dragons and fairies and all inbetween.

It was like Legend was rediscovering the world through a brand new pair of lenses. All of the geological monuments or sights that he used to dismiss did have some level of majesty to them. The speckled night sky and the blazing sunsets and sunrises were rather breath taking, he would admit. “Not as breathtaking as you” is what he’d want to say but Wars always beat him to the punch. And then Legend would, typically, physically punch him later.

And he loved you for all of it.

He loved how genuine and real (because you are- you are real and this is no dream) everything felt. It was like the unseen muck clinging to his soul was cleansed from him when he was around you. His drive, his heartbeat, and his every breath was fueled by you. He adored that you made him see the silver linings in things when his pessimism gnawed at his mind. He had to stop himself from physically crooning into your arms when you’d hold him so tenderly after he awoke from a nightmare. Even when it was habit to snap or quip when in a moment of vulnerability, you still held the shards of glass that he was in your hands without fear of being cut. And if he ever hurt you, no matter how or to what capacity, he’d want you- need you- to inflict it make onto him tenfold or else he’d just have to do it himself and he long gave up on being gentle in such regards.

The long and short of it is that you made Legend feel alive. His heart- his chewed up, spat out, stomped on, cursed at, beaten up, and bruised heart- was yours. His soul- his battered, broken, and down trodden soul- was yours. He is yours. He is only yours. Curse Hylia and all the other goddesses who ever used him as a means to an end. He cares not that the Hero’s Spirit thrums within his veins. He cares not to defile it with sweet sin and indulge in what he pleases. You- you are what he wishes to please and he cares not for what way it is to be done. If you wish for him to continue on being a courageous hero, then so be it. If you want to see him cave into desire and darkness, it will be done. Your word is scripture and he, a preacher.

But…

You won’t leave him without… perhaps a gift or two to reward his devotion?

Unlike some others, he would like to be upfront to you about every feeling of his and what he’s done but he knows he can’t. It’s intense- to the point that that word can feel like an understatement. That intensity would scare, no, terrify you- so Legend keeps his mouth shut. So, because you technically don’t know of his deeds or to the extent of which they go, it’d be wrong for Legend to ask for rewards so out of the blue. No worries, though… he knows how to take them.

He’d never steal from you- no! Gods, no! He just… takes things that are of no use to you anymore. Trash, if he had to label what some of these items were to you. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure, as they’d say. These gifts were too precious for Legend to just leave behind at his house, so he kept them close in a secret satchel of his bag. When this adventure was all over, his first objective would be to redecorate part of his home so he could display this new collection with pride. Not that he’d really need it when the real thing would be in the next room regardless if it was by choice.

At the current moment, his collection wasn’t very big but it was filled with treasures he considered priceless.

A solid choice for comfort was a lightly stained handkerchief. While it had not been in your possession for long, you did use it quite a bit. You had played an undercover role while in a town for a few days, posing yourself as a bright, bubbly, and slightly air-headed noble. Many fake tears, both happy and sad, had been wiped away on this square of cloth. The handkerchief was saturated in your essence by the end of the mission and the normal course of action would be to throw it away. Legend was not about to let that happen, though- not when the item held so much of you. He can still taste the subtlest sweet and salty tang on his tongue whenever the fabric is brought to his lips.

For a more bitter than sweet item to bring him back to his senses whenever he was off his game was a large patch of gauze. The blood that stained it had long since turned brown and slightly rancid, but Legend was not about to throw it away. It was a reminder that you, although more divine than the goddesses themselves, still bled and could still perish (even entertaining such an idea for a split second was enough to ruin Legend’s day and kick up a nightmare come bedtime). It was from your first major wound you obtained when traveling with the group and you got it whilst defending a downed Wind from a few black blooded moblins. Legend was proud of your efforts that day yet ashamed of himself for letting you be in such a situation without back up. You were- under certain conditions, of course- allowed to partake in battle with him and his brothers. You preferred to swing and hack at your enemies instead of using technique, but that in and of itself had its own charm. Legend disliked you being dirtied by anything, but seeing your visage dripping with the blood of your enemies- watching the thick liquid curve down the contours of your armor, hearing you huff and puff and snarl from beneath your helmet, seeing your slowly growing muscle mass twitch and tighten to adjust your stance or grip- did something fierce to the man. He’d find an excuse to be alone for a moment to… “relieve” himself and sing out your praises under hushed and hot breaths.

His second favorite treasure of his private collection was one of the few things you actually did gift him. It was a strange item in the fact that Legend had never seen anything like it and likely never would unless the group was to end up in your world. It’s a very ridiculous item that’s called a- and he had to ask you to repeat this multiple times because he couldn’t believe it- worm on a string. Or, as you had also endearingly named the painfully bright pink, googly eyed strip of fuzz- Fred. It took Legend some time to get used to Fred, but he eventually began to look upon the worm with some joy after awhile (out of amusement of the absurdity that was Fred, The Worm on a String). He had honed his sleight of hand over the years so manipulating the thin, practically nonexistent string that was attached to Fred was a piece of cake once he got the hang of it. Causing the fuzzy worm to wiggle around his fingers, jump from hand to hand, or even jokingly make it dance to music was a quick way to make either himself or someone else laugh. Despite the toy’s sheer level of strangeness, Legend partly saw himself reflected in it. How it did whatever the puppeteer wanted it to do but made it appear as if it acted upon free will was something Legend related to more than he’d like.

His all time favorite treasure of this collection was something he felt like he could never reveal to you. Not necessarily because of what they were, but because of what Legend has done in relation to the items. The items in question being your clothes. Not any old tunic or pair of trousers- no, your original clothes. The very same clothes you had been wearing the moment you met him and the rest and changed their lives for forever. 

You had worn them whenever possible for the longest time as a source of comfort both physically and mentally. These clothes, though, were better suited for lounging around the house than adventuring so it took naught but two weeks for them to end up to frayed to continue wearing. When Legend had taken them from you, he promised to fix them up to the best of his ability and then return them to you. And he did, but… he believed you had no need for the clothes anymore as you grew used to adventuring gear rather quickly and… Legend would feel guilty and ashamed for days on end considering what he did to the fabric. While good with a needle and thread, removing stubborn stains from fabric proved a bit more difficult than Legend had hoped for.

The hoodie had been the first article to be defiled. After it was patched up, Legend had tried it on out of curiosity and understood its charm. He also noticed that it must have been something you wore often given how heavily your scent clung to the soft cloth even after a few washes. The smell was warm, musky, and a little sweet like fresh bread and linen sheets and Legend could inhale it for hours on end if he was allowed. Whenever he had been alone with it for long periods of time, he would don it and trace his hands over it. His imagination conjured up images as wholesome as your embrace to something more… racy, such as feeling the dips and swells of your body beneath the hoodie or even slowly peeling it off of you to reveal a sea of bare skin ready to be inscribed with all manner of loving marks.

The second item was your pants. It was made of material as equally soft as the hoodie but thinner and therefore weaker. The inner thighs of the pants had already been frayed from prior use and those little holes were made more apparent due to the many hours of walking you had to do almost every day. Though you had lost some fat and replaced it with muscle, Legend imagined that the plush of your thighs would still strain and spill out of these little holes. Just wondering what it’d be like to kneel between your thighs and have a chance at kissing and licking at those spots of skin made Legend a weak man.

The third and final item was the one that brought Legend the most shame. Were he ever caught, he was sure he could explain away wearing or worshiping messing around with your hoodie or pants but… your underwear? No, there’s no coming back from that one. Not if he was found with his nose buried into the fabric. Not if he was found nibbling on it while all manner of saucy and raunchy thoughts invaded his mind. Not if it was revealed that, at one point in time, he had worn them for a full day and all it would take was for his tunic to flip up a little to reveal them.

Yeah… this collection of his was definitely going to stay private for awhile longer.

It was more than just material items that Legend considered to be a part of this growing collection of his, though. It was also moments and memories- things that were intangible and could never be bottled up. He could inscribe words onto paper, sure, but he was far from poetic and would hate to potentially soil these fond memories with lackluster writing. Memories like the first time you truly smiled at him. Memories like the sheer joy and victory that washed over your face when you successfully downed your first boss monster. Memories like your soft breathing against his neck when you had fallen asleep against his shoulder after partaking in some drinking games with him and the others.

And moments like what was happening right now.

Legend’s senses have never felt this electric before. Every smell in the air of the small inn room was sharp and distinct. Even when cloaked in shadow and dim moonlight, Legend could make out the contour of every dresser or picture frame with ease. His ears picked up on the sound of the outside breeze, the creaks of the floorboards, and the blood rushing through him. The taste of tonights dinner was still prevalent on his tongue along with the sweet undertones of the honey ale served to him by the inn’s staff. Lastly, there was the feeling of his clothes rubbing up against him whenever he moved or breathed, the way stray strands of his hair would tickle against his face, and the way you were tucked up against him.

Although five double rooms were booked for the night, it seems like the inn only had four to spare. As a result, Legend found himself sharing a single bed with you for the night. Fortunately, no one else knew of this arrangement as the innkeeper still told the group that five double rooms had been prepared for them. Unfortunately, however, was that the discovery of this single bed situation was only found out when you and Legend went to retire for the night. It was a shock to you both but you had recovered faster than he did and treated it far more casually too.

Stubborn as any Link, you had argued that it wasn’t that different than sleeping in the same tent together. After all, all that ever separated you from whoever your partner was for the night was a bed roll. It was this course of thought that caused you to drag Legend into the bed with you and then almost instantly knock out like a light. Had the two of you managed to stay on your respective side of the bed for the whole night would have potentially made him feel a little less nervous about the situation. As Legend quickly found out, though, you had a habit to latch onto things in your sleep.

Your head was nuzzled into the crook of his neck and your slow breaths cascaded down his throat and spanned across his collar bone. Your arms were loosely wrapped around his torso and although they felt lax in their grip, Legend didn’t have the strength in him to tear away. Despite trying to angle his body away from yours, your legs still ended up being intertwined with his own. You clung to him gently and completely- like something a lover would do and not a friend. That simple thought stirred up a storm in Legend’s heart and he had no idea how to calm it.

Legend was a bomb ready to blow. He didn’t know if he’d get up and run away like a coward or finally listen to the animalistic urge chittering in the back of his mind like the rabbit he loathed to be. The two courses of actions were locked with each other in a stalemate that had Legend sweating like a sinner in church. That is what he felt like at the moment and was, after all. Your body is a temple and he’d love to do nothing more than worship the holy grounds of your skin but he couldn’t. He was filthy, unclean, and drowned in sin. His mere presence near you in the moment felt like a violation to your being. Considering the many images and fantasies that have bounced around in his head more times than he can count, he felt he was ready to be burned at the stake.

You twitch and Legend freezes. He’s stiff as a board as you adjust your position in your sleep and he finds his nose nearly pressed up against the crown of your head. He caves and allows himself to inhale. It’s deep and filled to the brim with your scent. Your hair hadn’t been washed in a day so no smell of shampoo clung to it anymore but it was far more addicting that way.

Finally, Legend managed to move himself but it wasn’t away from you like he should. He idly carded a hand through your hair and marveled at the strands like they were made of gold. He did his best to not let his fingers get caught on any knots lest he wake you. Any number of lie could excuse his actions as nothing more than accidental but that would required Legend actually speaking and he was sure his throat had closed up the second he got into bed.

Legend twisted a small strand together and rubbed the tip of it between his fingers. The hair fibers were soft and smooth but not to the point of silk. It felt like messing around with the brush part of a newly crafted paint brush. Hmm… your hair would definitely make for an interesting tool if used in such a way but Legend quickly thought of something much better.

What sense of dignity and virtue he had left finally seemed to admit defeat as Legend reached to his side for the small dagger he carried with himself at all times. It was never smart to be without a weapon or tool- especially given his track record. He curled a small lock of hair around his finger until he reached your scalp. With precise movements, he brought the blade to your hair and began to saw against it. In a moments time, Legend pulled his hands away and with it came his newest prize.

With nothing to tie the hair up with, Legend resorted to knotting it onto itself. A single knot would be enough to do the job and then it was tucked away into his pocket without problem. While this all happened, you remained snoozing away. Your peaceful image made Legend’s heart twist with guilt and shame but the giddiness of obtaining a new treasure soothed the ache.

“Mmmmmmph…”

With a tiny groan, you hoisted yourself up onto your elbows and away from Legend. The ice that was in his veins only minutes ago return with a vengeance as Legend realizes that he’s about to be caught. To torment him even further, his burst of shamelessness scurries away and his moral code- no matter how busted and dingy it now was- had his face flushed full of embarrassment.

“Mmmmmmmmhhh… Legend?” You called out as you cracked open your bleary eyes. Your voice was rough from just waking up and still interwoven with fatigue. It had to have been the cutest you’ve sounded yet in Legend’s opinion.

“What?” Legend huffed after a beat. Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, the man did his best to appear as his normal, snarky self.

“What time is it?” You ask as you rapidly blink and rub at your eyes.

“Still nighttime. You have a nightmare?” Legend replies before asking his own question. Whenever the group was staying in an inn, you always managed to sleep like a log. So, to see you randomly wake up after only a few hours of sleep, Legend felt that something was amiss.

“No… jus’ overheating,” You murmured out. It seemed like a higher power was not yet done poking fun at Legend tonight as you began to remove your shirt. Any protest for you to stop died on Legend’s tongue. Even in the lackluster moonlight sneaking in through the curtains, Legend could make out the silhouette of your side and the detailing of your skin. The sheen of sweat collected on you was obvious proof that you weren’t lying to Legend or finding some excuse to shed your shirt. A small, sick part of him wondered if you’d shed more and if he should copy you and what your reaction would be and if you’d grant him the ultimate wish of allowing his dreams to become reality.

You leaned back and flopped back onto your side with a huff and didn’t bother to cover yourself back up with a blanket. You were overheating and that was to be expected but it sure as hell was making things so much worse. How the hell was he expected to get any sleep now?! Your exposed back is right there! All of its intricate layers of muscle and soft pads of fat made his fingers twitch just… just a little touch won’t hurt, will it? He watched as a bead of sweat grew big enough to lazily run down your back he suddenly found himself feeling very parched. He couldn’t tell if this was meant to be another gift or some form of divine punishment for the unsavory things he’s done.

When a low groan rumbled from you and you tossed around for a bit, Legend was reminded that this was rather uncomfortable for you. He got up and went over to his bag for something to help. Upon finding a rag and a bottle of cool water, Legend knew exactly what to do.

In the blink of an eye, he was right back at you side. He wasted no time in wiping you down and his heart fluttered when a relaxed noise left your mouth at his actions. He handed you the bottle of water while he made sure not a drop of sweat was left clinging to you. He did his best to keep his breathing under control and to not wipe down too hard with his shaking grip. After one of the best ten minutes he’s had in awhile, he pulls away and gives you some space.

“Thank… you…” you whisper before falling back asleep. Legend is too laser focused on the damp rag in his hands to respond. He’d look over at you every minute to check on how deep of a sleep you were in. Once he was sure you were fast asleep, he made his escape.

When you awoke in the morning, it was thanks to Wind flopping onto you and squeezing the breath out of you. You shoved the little shit off and waited for Legend to bark out some heated words at him but he didn’t. In fact… where was Legend?

“He’s already downstairs with everyone else. In fact, Time said that he was up before him,” Wind answers the unasked question. He leans in a little with an exaggerated expression on his face. “I’d avoid him if I were you, though. He’s acting sort of- ugh, nice. It’s creepy.”

With the warning(?) in mind, you went downstairs with Wind after you got changed. True to his word, Legend bore a slightly more lax and passive face than he usually did in the morning. You were sure your eyes were fooling you at this point but did he just smile at you???

“Sleep well? Sorry if I made you lose any z’s thanks to my hot flash,” You speak up once you’re sat down beside Legend.

“No, no… it’s alright,” Legend idly responds. This time you’re completely sure that he’s smiling because you’ve never seen him smile so… animalistically before. He may not have had Twilight’s sharper teeth, but you knew a wolfish grin when you saw one. He leaned in close, spurred on by a sudden burst of confidence, and whispered into your ear behind a cupped hand. The words confused you at first but quickly caused your face to nearly match Legend’s tunic.

“Is everything alright?” Hyrule pipes up once he notices you and Legend. The innocent lad tilts his head at lack of response from either of you and you don’t dare to look him in those big ol’ pools of green. Besides, how could you tell him of all people what Legend just said?

He’d never look at his predecessor the same way ever again if he heard that filth.

[sweetkpopmusings]

stray kids soulmate aus | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: eeeeeee my favorite kind of aus: soulmate aus!!! i was going to put all of the boys' pieces in the same post, but i could not resist writing more than a short blurb for them, so they are each getting their own post :,-) i'll add links to each of their names as i post these ! i'm not doing them in any particular order, but it felt right to start with the love of my life, hyunjin <33 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!hyunjin x gn!reader | requests: open

♡ chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin ♡

each soulmate has half a quote that is important to their relationship tattooed on their body.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hyunjin rubbed his fingers over that one spot on his collarbone. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. those words, the half of a whole, were the only tie he had to you. touching that engraving on his flesh was the closest he could come to being held by you, and he craved that comfort the most when his heart raced like this. 

today was the kind of day hyunjin wished would wrap up sooner than later. he knew it wouldn’t, not when the sun had only recently risen and his day had started hours ago. days like this, full of schedules, full of practice, full of work, full of stress–these were the days that went on forever. adrenaline and caffeine buzzed through his body. hyunjin was ready to race through the day, fully aware that his limbs would ache at the finish line, leaving him with nothing to do but collapse into rest as soon as it was over. 

i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. 

hyunjin had missed chan calling his name five times, forcing his eyes to turn in the general direction of chan’s whereabouts when he finally replied, “yeah?”

“we are going to the convenience store. want to come with?”

chan’s question came out as more of a suggestion, and hyunjin did not need much convincing to get a change of scenery. he caught up with his members, walking quickly at the back of the group, his feet falling on the ground in a steady beat of i remember we broke into. maybe the stress had his mind too jumbled to be down on earth. maybe he was lost in questions of what in the world the other half of that quote could be. maybe he was annoyed that he forgot to bring his good sunglasses on a day the sun was shining brightly. maybe he simply yearned for his bed and a break. regardless of the reason, something preoccupied hyunjin, which caused him to bump his shoulder against someone else’s body. 

“ah!” hyunjin grabbed his shoulder.

“i’m sorry! are you okay?”

one of your hands clasped the shoulder with which you had hit hyunjin. in your other hand, you held something that captured all of hyunjin’s attention: a banana man plushie, fitted with a deadpan expression and a bright yellow hoodie. hyunjin, without registering much else of the situation, burst out laughing. you were surprised by this, to say the least. however, once you followed his gaze and saw that he couldn’t take his eyes off your friend’s birthday gift in your hand, you burst into laughter yourself. that banana man, in that moment, was the funniest thing in the world. you and hyunjin knew that for a fact when you felt your stomachs cramp and ache from the laughter. the way that you two were giggling and fighting for air was nothing short of contagious, so all the people walking around you started to believe that the plushie was top-tier entertainment. not that either of you noticed, when all of your attention was focused on something special between you.

hyunjin took a gasp of air he desperately needed. while the banana man was captivating, he looked toward the source of the laughter that mixed so sweetly with his own, and he found you.   for the first time that day, his eyes completely focused on the world in front of him. hyunjin couldn’t look away, and, heart fluttering with a joy and excitement he didn’t quite understand, he smiled and savored the sound of your final chuckles. after you caught your breath, you absentmindedly massaged the point of contact on your shoulder, and you waited for hyunjin to answer your previous question. he stared at you, confusion furrowing his brow slightly, until he felt a small pang in his shoulder and remembered you two had just crashed into each other. 

“yeah, yeah, i–i am. sorry, are you..are you okay?”

you nodded, endeared by his light laughs lingering in the air, the way he stumbled over words as he caught his breath, and his brown eyes. there was a pause, so you moved your hand away from your shoulder to grab your bag, though you had absolutely no intention to leave. something held you there; this moment between you and the beautiful boy in front of you wasn’t meant to end yet (or, at least, you weren’t ready for it to). unbeknownst to you, that simple movement of your hand revealed a tattoo just like hyunjin’s. the words were different, but the script, placement, size, and even the slant of it beneath your collarbone was a mirror image of the words hyunjin carried on his body.

laughter when we saw each other.

hyunjin’s heart raced.

laughter when we saw each other. 

his pulse found a new rhythm, one his mind fell perfectly into step with, as his eyes danced across each letter on your skin.

laughter when we saw each other. laughter when we saw each other. laughter when we saw each other.

hyunjin’s jaw dropped. you looked back at the wide-eyed man, unsure as to why you telling him that you were okay after your collision was shocking news.

“i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other,” hyunjin said softly.

you heard him perfectly clear, though you weren’t entirely sure what he meant by that, so you teased him, “we did just see each other, so i hope you’d remember that.”

he smiled, another quick laugh falling from his lips as he moved his shirt collar to reveal the words on his collarbone, “i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other.”

now your jaw dropped, “oh my god.”

a flurry of butterflies unleashed in hyunjin’s stomach because he couldn’t believe how cute you looked when shock and wonder filled your expression, but he managed to ask, “do you know what it’s from?”

“no, i–”

your answer was interrupted by chan calling out hyunjin’s name. hyunjin whipped his head toward him, signaled with a wave of his hand that he’d be there shortly, and returned his attention to you. you stared at his collarbone, seeing the tattooed words clearly, despite the fabric of his shirt covering them. he giggled as he reached his hand out to you, a new contact page opened on his phone.

without having to think, you accepted the phone and typed in your number, “i don’t think i’ve heard that before.”

“well, i have to go back to work, but would you be able to look it up and send me what you find?”

“of course,” your fingertips brushed against his when you handed the phone back, and you smiled brightly in response to the soft electricity.

“i’m hyunjin.”

“i’m y/n.”

he inhaled as though he were smelling freshly baked bread, and serenity washed over him, “i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

“i sure hope so, with us being soulmates and all.”

he laughed as he waved goodbye, and you laughed as you watched him walk away. i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other.

unable to resist the temptation, you stepped out of the flow of pedestrians and typed those words into the search bar. Ada Limón’s “What I Didn’t Know Before” popped up immediately. reading the last four lines over and over again, you felt butterflies swarm your stomach and certainty rush through your heart.

“I remember we broke into laughter / when we saw each other. What was between / us wasn't a fragile thing to be coddled, cooed / over. It came out fully formed, ready to run."

this poem was, without a doubt in your mind, the correct solution to the question you had been asking your whole life. you also knew, without a doubt in your mind, hyunjin was the right person to hold your heart, after it had been calling out to someone from its first beat. you sent hyunjin a link to the poem, holding on tightly to the banana man plushie as you walked toward your next destination.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Most recent part

Warnings: Dubious consent!!! Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with unclear consent. Mentions of crying during intimacy.

Not really a warning, but in this universe, Ferran is single and not the best person. So the warning is major Ferran character assassination? Sorry Ferran girlies <3

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has been enjoying this story so far. I have been waking up to 99+ notifs on tumblr for the last 3 days now and I can't tell y'all how much I appreciate it. So much that I'm typing this next part in the university library (while wearing my Gavi jersey) .

Also I was wondering why engagement was so much higher on part 1 and I found out that the link to part 2 on that post was broken smh.

Pablo Gavi was notoriously hot headed. Everyone knew this - from players to coaches to commentators to the 16 year old girls making TikTok edits of his footage. Everyone knew he had a temper the bubbled over at a moment's notice. Xavi liked to describe him as a spark: volatile, quickly explosive, but just as quick to come back down to a level headed state. This is what made him a good footballer. He could be passionate and powerful on the attack, and then level his emotions to make strategic decisions in a split second.

"Gavi is never nervous when he goes onto the field. He is confident. It is his game."

But Gavi was not himself for the rest of the day. His usual look of disturbance was deepened, eyebrows remaining furrowed together for the entirety of training. The air of boyish charm he always had dissipated, settling instead into an uncomfortable aura that was felt by the rest of the team. Gavi's irritation was widespread. The main target was Pedri, who refused to tell Gavi when he had seen you at a club. It was at Ansu and Balde, who kept you busy for the rest of the afternoon, so you couldn't watch them train. It was at Martin, who was sending so many texts that, in Gavi's opinion, he looked like a desperate little loser that had never felt the touch of a woman.

Gavi's anger did not spare you. It was one of those days where he decided that he just did not trust you. He had them semi-frequently. When he went into your office and his heart started hammering in his chest. Where his skin felt like it was on fire whenever you touched him. When your voice flowed into his ears like honey and clogged his brain and clouded his thoughts. He interpreted these feelings as fight or flight - his gut's way of telling him you were not to be trusted. Why else would he feel like this? The only other time his heart beat so loudly was in the middle of an important match, when he could not afford to make a single mistake. There was something wrong with you, and sooner or later, he would find out what, and these feelings would subside.

Until then, he continued to glare at the wall of the locker room, wet hair dripping onto his forehead, as he waited for Pedri to finish getting changed.

"-and then she started massaging my chest and it was the best I've felt in weeks. Every day I want to kiss the La Liga president for approving women physios. If she keeps stretching me out, I'll be the next Messi."

Gavi's head perked up at hearing this. He knew Ferran was talking about you. It was not the first time Ferran had made some less-than-appropriate comments about you. The first day you had come out to the field to be introduced to the squad, Ferran had been standing next to Gavi and Pedri, letting out a low whistle.

"Look boys, Xavi doesn't want anything to hinder your performance, not even sexual frustration. Look at the present he brought us."

Gavi's face twisted in disgust at the memory. He grabbed his bag and made his way out of the locker room, deciding it was best not to hear Balde's response to the comment. He wished they would focus on their football skills rather than trying to get girls. Gavi had been told multiple times that it might benefit him to get a girl. It's not like he was a blushing virgin - whenever he felt like he needed to be with someone, he went out with the rest of the squad. Pedri and Ferran would be surrounded immediately. They would then pick one of the girls at their feet and ask, "Have you met my friend Gavi?"

When he was at La Masia, it was harder - what woman wants to be brought back to a football academy dorm? But now that he was in the squad and on TV, women were all but crawling into the Uber with him. They came back to his place, begging for him, and he released any frustration he had. This didn't usually take long. Gavi wasn't looking to be a giver or a romantic. When he was finished, he got up, got dressed, handed the girl her clothes, and asking if she needed an Uber to get home. Was it harsh? Probably. The three girls he had done this to had all yelled at him, strings of profanity about his mother leaving their mouths as they walked out the door. But he didn't care. He was 18 and about to be one of the most famous footballers in the world. Like Pedri told him, "Girls will always be there. Focus on your career, and there will always be a line of women waiting to have your kids. Don't create extra stress for yourself."

Pedri executed this well. He was rarely seen out, and whenever he did go out, he could get a girl and be out of the club in a matter of 20 minutes. He was efficient. He didn't let his after hours activities seep into what he did on the field. Ferran was a different story. Some days, Gavi thought Ferran had only stuck with football because he couldn't become a male prostitute. He was always thinking about sex, talking about sex, or hypothesizing how to acquire sex. He was not efficient. He often tried to see how many girls he could take home with him at once. He always came in tired and sore, hangover causing him to move much slower than he should be. He was always making comments about the girls that sat close to the field in Camp Nou, going on about how he could have all of them at once if he wanted. Gavi usually tuned it out. But he couldn't when it came to you. He hated the way Ferran spoke about you. It made his stomach turn and blood boil. Focus on football.

As Gavi stepped into the hallway, he saw you struggling to carry your bag and a large stack of files. He leaned coolly against the wall, bag slung over one shoulder.

"Stealing all the medical records to sell them to the press?"

You looked up at him, arms shaking from the weight of everything in your hands.

"Selling them to Real Madrid. Ancelotti wants to know who has the biggest dick. Come carry these filed before I say yours is the smallest."

Gavi rolled his eyes and took the files from your hands, surprised by how heavy they actually were. He followed you to your car, thinking to himself, 'Does she actually have our dick lengths in our medical records? I don't remember getting mine measure. Is it self reported? No, it can't be everyone would lie.'

"Gavi. Where are you going? This is my car."

Gavi was taken out of his thoughts, realizing he walked too far. He jogged back to you, placing the files in the back of your car. He watched you bend over to arrange the files so they wouldn't slip onto the floor. Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else. You were still sarcastic and loud and treated him like a child. He had no interest in your ass or any other part of you that couldn't help him get better at football.

"Do you need a ride home Gavi?"

"No I'm just waiting for Pedri. The guys were being too rowdy in the locker room and it was giving me a headache."

You closed your car door, sighing with the effort of making sure you didn't damage the files.

"Alright then. I'll see you next Monday." You said over your shoulder, moving to get into your car.

"Next Monday? Why not tomorrow? Where are you going to be for the rest of the week?"

"I have the week off to study for my field training assessment on Friday. If I pass with an 85% or higher, I can start helping the medical staff on the field when one of you gets injured in a game."

"Right. But if the exam is on Friday you should be here for Saturday training."

"I asked for Saturday off. I have a date."

Gavi's head shot up at the statement.

"A date?"

"Yeah. You know Martin? He asked me to go to Cala Bona beach with him. I never really use my vacation days so I thought it would be good. Besides, the team has a match on Thursday. Saturday training will be recovery. I don't need to be there."

Gavi looked at you with the same distressed face he always had.

"Don't you think it's a little desperate of you to take off work for a date?"

You looked up at him seething. He stood with his bag strapped over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, hood up to cover his wet hair. His eyes were stern and cold, the usual fire behind them having died down to leave frigid disgust. You would be lying if you said you didn't know about how the Barca men got rid of their sexual frustrations.

"Oh I'm sorry. Next time, Gavi, I'll be classy like you and have weekly sex in a club bathroom."

You didn't give him a chance to respond before you slammed your door and started your car, the sound of the engine drowning him out. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment. He hated when you did that - when you acted like he was a stupid kid. But in this case he was. You had refrained from getting into a long term relationship during your undergrad in the US because you knew you would be leaving, and you didn't want to drag someone across the world with you. But you were human, and humans love companionship. So you tried your best to find someone who you could love. Or rather, someone who could love you.

University had been difficult for you, and not only in the academic sense. In high school, you only really got close to one boy. His name was Ricardo. He walked in one day in the 9th grade wearing a Barca shirt, and you couldn't contain your excitement. You both got closer throughout your years at school, sharing a passion for medicine and sports. You even planned to go to the US together, so you could have a companion from home. Naturally, rumors swirled that the two of you were a couple, because friendship among teenagers doesn't exist.

In your final year of school, Ricardo confessed that he had been pining after you for the last year. You didn't know what to say. Your gut told you that you didn't like him, but everyone around you said otherwise. Everyone told you that the way he looked at you should make you feel special. That he had been so nice to you for so long that you basically owed it to him to return the feelings. So you went on a date with him (well, if you consider hanging out in his basement watching Netflix a date). Ricardo was not slick with his intentions. He had his arm around you, and pulled you in close within the first 10 minutes of the movie. At minute 30 he started kissing your neck. You tensed up. You had thought about being physical with Ricardo, but only because of all the times your other friends had talked about it. Halfway through the film, your clothes were off. Well, sort of. Your shirt was pushed up, bra pulled down to expose your chest (since he could not figure out the clasps. Both of you had your pants around your ankles.

"Ready baby?" "Yeah, I think so."

Your first time lasted 3 minutes. When he finished he laid on top of you. A tear rolled down your face. Ricardo looked at you, kissing you on the forehead.

"Hey, are you okay."

You nodded, but you didn't mean it. The realization was setting in that you had absolutely no romantic feelings for this boy. Ricardo got a girlfriends soon after, and you spoke to him sporadically before you moved to the US.

In college, you were fun. You were social, drawing people in with the mysterious exotic nature that came from being an international student. This, coupled with the fact that you were close to a lot of the athletes, meant that everyone wanted to get to know you. You got a lot of party invites. You spent almost every weekend at a bar or house or club. Tall gym bros were tripping over each other to serve you drinks. They were eager to grind up on you in a room full of sweaty undergrads, feeling the way your hips swayed to the beat of the Drake songs over the speakers. It always ended the same way. They whispered in your ear for you to go to the bathroom with them. You obliged. The feeling of the sink pressing against your ass was a familiar one. You drove boys crazy, kissing them like you were taking your last breath. You grabbed them by their belt loops, pulling them close into you. You would grab the backs of their necks, playing with the hair on their nape, and let out some (exaggerated) breaths when they kissed your neck. You always ended the encounter the same way. They would ask you, beg you to go back to their rooms, and you would always respond with, "I don't think you'd be able to handle it."

This got you a reputation around school. Some called you "The Pentagon", because it was impossible to penetrate you. Others called you "ice princess", because you could get men so hot and reject them so coldly at the same time. You became the ultimate challenge for every frat boy: who could get you to sleep with them. Men would treat you like a goddess - wine and dine you, buy you presents, confess that you were the woman of their dreams, all for the bragging rights of saying you gave it up to them. Having your emotions played with started to mess you up. You started to believe that no one really could fall in love with the "ice princess". But you weren't going to stop trying.

[Martin Zubimendi]: I can't wait to see you this weekend.

[Martin Zubimendi]: Send your address so I can come pick you up.

[Martin Zubimendi]: A pretty girl like you shouldn't have to drive by herself for an hour.

[Gavi]: Good luck on your exam Doctora

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey y'all, this part is a little shorter, but I wanted to give some background on the characters' mindsets before I start another eventful part of the story.

This part of the story is inspired by the story "7 minutes is never enough" on ao3. It is a Dabi x reader that sent shock waves through my system. So pls go support that author as well!

Thank you so much for all the love on this series. I really appreciate it more than I can say. Always love to hear feedback, so let me know under here or in my asks. Love you all. Will upload the next part when I can.

[glubsurleseuil]

Don't be scared - Chapter 1

This is the first chapter - Next

A Pennywise X F!Reader fanfic 'cause I need to get these ideas out of my head before they eat me up. I'll post this thing on AO3 when I'm not so lazy to create an account. If I go ahead with it, it'll be NSFW, sexually disturbing, gory, violent, reader is an autistic drepressed suicidal girl… In short, skip it if you're a sensitive soul. For the rest of you, enjoy (I hope).

(Note: It was translated by Deepl, English is not my mother tongue, so I apologise for any mistakes. If you want to correct me, don't hesitate!)

(Note 2: The image is by @fandomscreenshots but you should already know that because what she does is amazing)

You've always lived in Derry, Maine. Well, actually you were born in Derry, went to school in Derry and, like any good citizen, you now work in Derry. You don't like it, you never have, and you know that no matter what you do, you'll never like it.

Firstly, because no matter how hard you try since childhood, you just can't seem to make any friends. Worse, people seem to have agreed to shut you out and hate you. At best, they ignore you, at worst… well, let's just say there are certain people you've learned to avoid at all costs, so you don't have to spend the evening licking your wounds…

Secondly, because there's something unhealthy about the general atmosphere of this town, as if it were being devoured by a cancer that affected not only the surrounding greenery, but also the buildings and even the people. A cancer that could be called suffering, melancholy or despair. And although no one knows where these feelings come from, everyone seems to accept them as an inevitable burden.

Tonight, like most evenings, you're working at the Canal Rouge, a rather quiet bar where people can drink and listen to local artists perform on a small stage. You're a waitress, and it's not the most pleasant of jobs, especially when you're a woman. Fortunately, your boss is a woman too, and she's very strict about the respect customers show her staff, so things could be a lot worse.

But tonight, you're in a particularly bad mood. Fatigue has always been a difficult thing for you to deal with, and lately your nights have been… tormented. You've been having a dream, always the same with little difference, on and off for over a week. It's a hazy, dark, incoherent dream that's hard to remember. What you remember most is anguish, fear… and an unbearable feeling of being watched by something dangerous, making you feel like prey waiting to be devoured. When your therapist asked you to describe this dream, even with random words, you said 'fear', 'red' and… 'clown'. You laughed after saying that last word, a nervous, uncontrolled laugh, like a continuation of the one you always hear in this dream before waking up.

But tonight, the worst is yet to come, because you have to serve Jenny's gang as consumers, young people your own age who, like you, are stuck in Derry and like to pass the time by annoying other people. Especially you, since you met them in kindergarten. You know you won't be able to get home safely tonight…

And your fears are confirmed as you finish your shift. As you emerge into the alley to which the service door leads, you see them laughing at the end of it, looking in your direction. This is the way home. You quickly think of another option, but you know that even if you take a longer route, they'll be able to corner you sooner or later, and that's what they'll do. Unless… you go through the forest…

You don't hesitate, knowing that your pursuers won't follow. Their parents have given them the same instructions as you: never go into the forest at night. Ever. Your father had made it clear that he meant business by emphasizing his order with the back of his hand. But tonight, you're a grown-up, and between your dead father's old superstitions and Jenny and her gang's guaranteed beating, the choice was quickly made.

You head into the forest, at first more worried about your pursuers who, as expected, quickly abandon their target. Then you decide to turn on the torch on your phone, as it quickly becomes very dark between the tightly packed trees in the middle of the night. You recognize the path you're on and follow it to the ancient oak tree where you used to climb as a child to escape the bullies. But even this place, reassuring by day, gives off a menacing aura by night…

All is quiet, too quiet for a forest where animals should be going about their nocturnal lives. You get the impression that a kind of fog is floating around, light but unnatural, and as you look at the thick branches of the oak tree, you get a strange feeling… Like a memory from another life… Like a dream…

Suddenly, there's a sound. A sound you know well, having heard it every night for over a week. A laugh. A clown's laugh… You turn in all directions, shining your phone in every nook and cranny around the oak. And just as you realize that there's nothing there, that maybe it's your imagination playing tricks on you, the laughter starts up again. You jump back against the tree, light pointed ahead, anticipating the appearance of someone, something… The laughter becomes more distinct, closer… But it's not coming from in front of you, nor from the sides… It comes… from above?

With a quick gesture, you point the light towards the branches of the oak tree and there, hidden in the shadows of the leaves, you see it: a clown. No, THE clown. The one who has haunted your dreams, distressed your nights, devoured your sanity. This present moment has repeated itself endlessly in your nightmare and now it's all happening for real, clear as day and just as terrifying.

With a muffled scream, you drop your phone, the lamp face down and your legs buckling beneath you. The little light that escapes from beneath your phone only faintly illuminates the bottom of the tree, but you know IT's there.

And it's not long before he leaps down from the tree. You can only make out a silhouette in the darkness, and as you hear him coming closer, you try to remember the end of the dream. It's all a blur, and all that comes back is a vague memory of a hunt in which you are the prey… Back on the grassy ground, you pull yourself back as best you can with your hands, never taking your eyes off the presence. Is this how you're going to die?

He moves slowly closer, slipping into the shadows. You can make out that he's leaning forward, then addressing you in a childlike voice.

"Hiya Y/N! I'm Pennywise, the dancing clown!"

He suddenly picks up your phone from the floor, pulling it up slowly, light downwards, gradually revealing his appearance as he continues.

"I've been looking forward to meeting you, you know? Don't be scared, I'm not going to kill you…"

As he utters these words, light finally shines on his face, reflected in his abnormally large and sharp teeth, piercing yellow eyes focused on you, and horror fills you.

"… yet."

The instinct to survive gives you new energy. You leap to your feet and flee the way you came, briefly illuminated by your phone in the clown's hands. You run at full speed, ignoring the noises behind you that make you think he's chasing you. If you've got a chance of getting away, you're going to take it. In fact, the forest exit isn't far off. One last push! You close your eyes and accelerate again… when hands often clutch your collar, brutally stopping your momentum.

"There you are, you bastard!"

"I told you she'd come back! She's such a pussy!"

"No way out now, you bitch!"

Jenny and her gang… It was Tim, the big muscular guy who caught you. They were waiting for you just outside the forest…

"Why are you running so fast? Are you afraid of the big bad wolf?"

They burst out laughing, but the sound reaches you distorted. The adrenalin from your run is wearing off too slowly and you can still hear your heart pounding in your eardrums. You struggle on, your brain unable to make sense of what has just happened. Suddenly, you hear a foul noise. A kind of hoarse, inhuman growl, coming out of the depths of the woods like an echo to their pitiful mocking laughter. You feel Tim's hands trembling with uncontrollable fear on your collar and watch their faces disintegrate before your eyes. Tim lets go and they all flee in a single scream of terror, leaving you behind.

You turn around, your body still tired from your frantic run, and you quickly understand what made them flee: golden eyes, shining menacingly in the darkness, perched on a huge, muscular, fur-covered figure, its multiple sharp teeth accentuating the evil growl rolling down its throat. A werewolf.

You barely have time to realize that it's the clown from earlier before he disappears between the trees with a hoot that sends shivers down your spine. Just as you regain your strength to flee, something falls near you. You examine it carefully: it's your phone, and as you turn the screen towards you, you see a message written in a torn red font:

DON'T BE SCARED

You don't wait any longer and run towards town without looking back.