#it's one thing to make the title track the opener but it's another to make it slap so hard you immediately sell your soul to the album

[leighsartworks216]

And All I See Is You

Harvey x gn!Farmer

Inspired by "Thank You" by Dido (Title is from the lyrics). I just,, domesticity really gets me ya know?

Warnings: cold, shivering, nudity mention

Word Count: 1,529

Masterlist

AO3

Another chill shook your body to the core, chattering your teeth and numbing the tips of your fingers and toes. The persistent drip drip drip of water onto the floorboards mingled with the downpour outside, just behind you. A gust of wind blew at your back, as though the weather were endeavoring to reach out and pull you back in. You swore as you forced the door shut. You breathed shakily as you leaned against it.

Familiar footfalls came from further within the house, unfaltering as they approached you, though the pace was a bit quicker than normal. In moments, something fluffy and warm was wrapped around your shoulders. Large hands pulled the edge of the towel over your head to dry your hair and cheeks.

"I was wondering when you were gonna come inside," Harvey said. He sighed disapprovingly, but it was quiet enough it didn't seem like you were truly burdening him. "Yoba, you're soaked to the bone!"

You hummed noncommittally. The only thing on your mind was all the warmth around you. Honestly, it began to burn, like coming inside after playing in the snow all day. Your body shivered violently at the temperature shock as he rubbed at your shoulders and arms. "Buncha fences were broken. I wanted to fix 'em up before the animals found them first."

"It could have waited until morning," he chastised lightly. Hell, he'd probably fix them himself tomorrow. He enjoyed helping around the farm where he could. A medical degree didn't exactly lend itself to farming, but model-building shared some things in common.

He paid no mind to the trail of water you left behind as he guided you past the fireplace and into the bathroom.

It was nothing special. It had a combination shower and tub, a toilet, a sink. Everything you'd need to take care of your basic hygiene. When Harvey moved in, you'd embarrassedly asked Robin if she could make it a bit bigger. She'd practically glowed with ideas as she promised to be right on it, scrambling for blank blueprint sheets and pencils. Still, it was only a small adjustment to make the standing room a bit wider.

He reached past you to turn on the water so it could start heating up, before planting a kiss on your damp forehead. "Get undressed and-" You opened your mouth with a smirk, but he pressed on before you could interrupt. "Get warmed up. I'll grab you some fresh clothes. Tea, coffee or cocoa?"

You reluctantly pulled the towel from around you and hung it lopsidedly on the towel rod. He helped peel cloth from skin as you struggled to pull your shirt off. Memories of hot summer days at the pool or beach, and trying to put your wet swimsuit back on after it had time to grow cold. It was a similar experience, with the same frustrations.

"Cocoa," you finally decided. It was autumn; you might as well have some seasonal whimsy to end the day. "With marshmallows. The tiny ones."

He grinned affectionately, nodding like he already knew exactly how you'd want it to prepare. (He did.) "Alright. Cocoa it is."

Once you were bare, wet and hugging yourself for warmth, clothes in a heap on the tile floor, he urged you into the tub and under the spray of the water. It was a bit warmer than you usually liked it, but it felt too damn good to turn it down. You sighed with relief as you turned your face up to the shower head, letting it all rain over you.

In the background of your mind, you were vaguely aware of Harvey leaving and the door shutting. It opened again briefly, and shut once more for good.

You lost track of time in there. Thoughts of all you had to do scrambled with the steps of washing your hair and body. It could have been ten minutes or an hour before a knock came on the door, with a muffled call that your cocoa was done. The agony of leaving the nice hot water into the cold, unforgiving world was easier knowing you were seconds away from tiny marshmallows.

When you did step out, a fresh towel was hung up next to the one from before. It was warm. On the toilet lid was a neatly folded pile of clothes, also warm. No doubt he'd run them through the dryer for a few minutes for you. That warmth seeped into your heart, emboldening your love for the man.

Steam poured out of the bathroom after you. You worried for a moment about your nice, fuzzy socks getting wet, only to find the puddles you left to be swept away. His thoughtfulness truly knew no bounds.

You followed the smell of chocolate through the air to the living room. Harvey was already sat on the couch before the fire with a steaming mug on the coffee table and a medical journal in his hands. He looked up when you rounded the well-loved furniture and plopped into his side. He didn't think twice before pulling the knitted afghan off the back of the couch to drape over you. And you didn't think twice about grabbing your mug - your mug because it was covered in junimos, won from the fair with more points than it was worth - and cradling it close.

"Warmed up?"

"Mmm. Just about."

You could feel the upturn of his mustache as he kissed your temple.

Nothing was said for a long while. Nothing needed to be said. The fire was crackling away in the brick fireplace the cabin had had since you'd moved in, the rain and wind sprinkled on the roof and pressed at the windows demanding entrance, the marshmallows melted in the drink and your mouth as you eagerly sipped away - it was perfect.

You rested your head on his shoulder, mindlessly scanning the pages he was on. Some of the words (a lot of them, actually) were foreign to you, even as you tried to make sense of them from context clues and diagrams. Others were familiar; you were sure he rolled his eyes when you saw "buttocks" and snorted. But you didn't need to understand it. Not like this, anyway. You knew how to slap together a splint in a jiffy and how to put a bandaid on a scratch, and that's all you needed to know. A farmer's lifestyle didn't exactly lend itself to medicine, but you could make your own life elixirs and puzzle what was wrong with an animal without a vet needing to drive all the way out here.

Mug drained, belly full, and eyes droopy, you snuggled closer to your husband. You abandoned the warmth of your blanket to drape an arm over his stomach, and turned your face into his chest with a sigh.

"Bedtime?"

You nodded slightly with an affirmative hum.

His book closed with a dull thud. Harvey nudged you as he reached forward and slid it onto the table by your mug. He pressed a hand against your hip, encouraging you to stand up.

With a heaving sigh, you forced your eyes open and supported your own weight once more as you leaned off of him and dragged yourself to your feet. It had to be past midnight by now; you only ever got this sleepy past midnight.

Harvey kept a hand on your lower back as you walked together through the house to the bedroom. Once there was room to walk together, you pressed yourself into his side, one of your own hands on his back and rubbing mindlessly up and down his spine.

He eased you onto the bed, so you wouldn't go flopping down face first into the comforter. As he rounded the foot of the bed to his side, you gratefully slipped under the blankets and sunk your head into your pillow. You watched with fading consciousness as he slipped his glasses off of his face and turned off his bedside lamp. He relied on muscle memory and touch as he pulled back the blanket and climbed into bed with a soft groan that made you smile.

Once he settled with a sigh, you scooched closer to him, until you were safely in his arms and your head rested on his shoulder. Closing your eyes now meant well and truly ending the day. There'd be no waking up until that damned rooster crowed in the dawn of a new day.

He rested his cheek on your head. The arm wrapped around your shoulders rubbed lightly over your tricep. The twinkling tags of your pet's collar hitting together announced its presence as it hopped onto your bed. The press of paws through the blanket as it circled around and finally plopped down over your feet.

You sighed contently as you sank further into your husband's warmth. You closed your eyes, letting go of the day for good as you submitted to your dreams.

The next morning you awoke to a few more repaired fences, your animals all fed, the pet bowl full of water, and Harvey dripping wet in the doorway with a bashful grin.

[superthirstparty]

honestly i still can't stop listening to the most recent beartooth album, i kinda have a tendency to obsess over albums that have a 10/10 banger opener

[bidamonalbarn]

PLEASE infodump about drake

okok this is specific to the drake/kendrick drama but i can also do a drake one too - im assuming you know basically nothing. & i barely know this shit so correct me if im wrong. also this will be routinely updated so! check in :D

2011 - Take Care (album) by Drake features Kendrick Lamar on the track Buried Alive Interlude

2012 - Drake has Kendrick open for his Club Paradise Tour. The same year they both feature on A$AP Rocky's song Fuckin Problems (also with 2 Chainz)

2013 - Kendrick called out a few rappers (J. Cole, Pusha T, Big Sean, etc.) including Drake. Drake responds saying he had no response, basically. They do this again the same year (Kendrick says shit, Drake doesnt respond)

2016 (ish) - They continue subtle beef (Kendrick saying Drake has ghost writers, Drake saying Kendrick "sold out")

2023 - First Person Shooter by Drake and J. Cole drops (their first collab since 2013). In the song Drake mentions "the big three" in reference to himself, J. Cole, and Kendrick

2024, Mar. - Like That by Metro Boomin' and Kendrick Lamar drops. In it Kendrick responds to Drake, saying "the big three ... it's just big me", implying that Kendrick is above Drake and J. Cole. Drake attempts to ban Like That from the radio.

2024, Apr. - Push Ups by Drake is released. The song is about how Drake believes Kendrick is being extorted - the track referencing the phrase "drop and give me 50".

2024, Apr. - Taylor Made Freestyle by Drake is released, his second diss track at Kendrick. Here Drake disses Kendrick for "selling out" specifically in reference to Bad Blood by Taylor Swift ft. Kendrick Lamar. Drake also used AI vocals of Snoop Dogg and Tupac - this resulted in him almost being sued by Tupac's Estate. Drake wiped the song from his sites

2024, Apr. - Euphoria by Kendrick Lamar is released. The track is 6 minutes long, cut down from its original 19 minutes. The title is in reference to the TV series Euphoria which Drake is an executive producer of - it's also referencing the sexualisation of underage people, something done by the show and (allegedly) Drake himself. Within the track Kendrick makes fun of Drakes accent, how Drake says the n-word, how Drake dresses... and a fuck load more

2024, May. - 6:16 in LA by Kendrick Lamar releases, less than 72 hours after Euphoria dropped. This track specifically disses Drake for having ghost writers/lots of co-writers. He also implies that Drakes friends are stabbing him in the back and selling his info. This track is co-produced by Jack Antonoff, who co-writes and co-produces for Taylor Swift.

2024, May. - Family Matters by Drake is released. I want to be honest with you, i didn't listen to this until i got this ask. This track implies Kendrick beats his wife. Drake also disses other rappers such as A$AP Rocky, Future, etc.

2024, May. - Drake releases a Buried Alive Interlude Parody on his Instagram

2024, May. - Meet the Grahams by Kendrick Lamar is released. In this track (which is by far my favourite of all the tracks) Kendrick calls Drake a deadbeat dad and accuses Drake of having another secret child (apart from Adonis). Kendrick has a verse dedicated to this supposed child in which he basically parents her - teaching her all the things Drake wont. He also implies Drake struggles with alcohol and gambling

2024, May. - Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar is released. The fourth diss track from Kendrick. In this track Kendrick alleges that there's pedophiles and trafficking within OVO (an indie record label founded by Drake). Kendrick also says that every rapper who's complimented Drake is lying and now hates him for using Tupac's vocals through AI. This track includes my favourite line "Tryna stike a chord and it's probably A-Minor"

[chrollohearttags]

you couldn’t stop staring at it..

your eyes had been fixated to that damn phone screen for nearly an hour, long after he sent it. But who could when something so beautiful was plastered across it? The attachment constantly on repeat and playing in your mind..plaguing it with filthy, perverse thoughts. Causing you to lose concentration for any other task that you had set before you today. Why exactly?

“Ohhhh..fuck..”

it was the middle of the day. You had just gotten out of your last class and was in the midst heading back to your apartment but first? You made a quick detour to the restroom. It was as you were standing in the mirror, reapplying your lip gloss and ensuring that your lace wasn’t lifting from the heat. When your phone would buzz against the hard countertop, making loud buzzing noises resonate throughout the desolate area. What you thought was yet another useless notification from one of the many apps you have muted throughout the day, was actually from the one person you were checking for:

my pookah 🔐🥺🤍

your partner in crime and best friend, Eren, who had just left the gym and like many times before, he checked in with you to see how your day was going. Normally with a funny message or meme..some stupid ass inside joke the two of you had come up with but today’s was rather different..and a little risqué! The only thing on the message was 1 attachment which you immediately opened. It was only by a miracle that you were all alone in there because what followed was something for your eyes and viewing pleasure only..sitting in his car with the front camera titled slightly upward and seemingly propped on the steering wheel, he was glaring directly at you. Those beautiful green eyes glossed over and his tongue glided across those pouty lips. His long hair dangling to his shoulders but tied back by a black bandana. A wife beater with the same color and his grey sweatpants just barely in the shot. You figured this was just another one of his silly antics, even smacking your lips and tempted to shut it off. “This boy play too damn much..all day long—“

but you were immediately halted in your tracks by what followed right after. Suddenly, you see him tug at that elastic waistband. He’d shuffle in his seat for a second until he got them worked down and that’s when his thick cock appeared in the shot. Your jaw damn falling to the floor..for a moment, you had to grab your chest and lean against the counter because you weren’t expecting that! But you certainly didn’t complain nor did you mind. That swollen tip beaming red with precum dripping all down the sides. It was early so you could see a few folks walking in the background but your attention was elsewhere and his? All on you..

“Been thinking ‘bout you all morning..could barely get through my workout.” His voice dropping to somewhat of a groggy, deep tone, almost as if he were entranced and drunk on you. His mind had been running rampant with thoughts of you and all the things you had done a few nights prior from sitting on his face to fucking you in front of the mirror. Anytime the two of you linked, it was so nasty and raw. You had obviously awoken a beast when you gave him the pussy. But he knew exactly how to handle it. Standing against the sink, you’d bite the tip of your finger as you video continued on playing; now intrigued and very much turned on. His fingers were enclosed around his shaft, slowly pumping as his eyes shut and he leaned against the headrest. All the while, he was still muttering and confessing how he truly felt..telling you all the things he wanted to do with you and needless to say, he wasn’t shy about it. Eren was a very vocal lover, no doubt. You learned that quickly. He had no problem telling you how good you felt and that he wanted to nut inside of you constantly. Regardless of how weak it made him look, he was going to make it known that you were the cause of it!

“..wanna fuck the shit out you, mama..so bad. I need that pussy..” Eren cried out with a guttural and pathetic groan..his chest heaving as he gently thrust his hips upward and fucked his fist. Wishing so desperately that it were you. By now, your eyes were all but glued to the screen and thank heavens no one else had walked in because things were intensifying! By now, he had become completely undone. Just panting, whimpering and making his desires known. “..I just know she so wet f’r me. Shit, I wish you were here right now..tryna bounce you up and down on this dick. Make that shit cream all over me. You know how much I love that..you gonna let me have it, right?” Doing that subtle, sexy lip bite that drove you crazy. Especially when he spoke to you in that deep tone. At that moment, it took all your resolve not to answer him aloud. You were losing your mind watching him stroke that shaft, now sped up and making smacking noises. That pearlescent semen serves as the perfect lube. He had even grown right before your eyes. But what really does it for you was when he began pinching his nipples through his shirt and whimpering like a pathetic little puppy. He was such a slut when it came to you. Willing to degrade himself and look as crazy as possible..so as long as he got you as the reward.

“Oh fuck….oh fuck..I’m bout to come so hard. I got to have you, for real. Please let me have that pussy, mama. I’ll do whatever for it..” his voice rising to a high pitched cry at this point and you were practically salivating at the sight. Eren was damn near dry heaving, nearing his inevitable climax when you began squirming around, trying to feint the tiny twitches from your aching cunt. Spasming on nothing more than air at the thought of him filling you. If it wasn’t a shame, you’d finger yourself right there but it's well worth the wait once you two met later on. As for now, you’d watch him fuck himself silly and even go cross eyed as he begged to nut inside of you when he got it again. “You know I want you to have my baby anyways..oh shit. Just promise me I can nut in that pussy, mama. Fill you up just like this. Please..” and the second he uttered that, what followed was a long string of hot white nut flowing down his knuckles and a hitch in the back of his throat. Eventually, he’d regain his breath and seemingly his consciousness, crying out as he came to.

“Fuuuuuck! Goddamnit…”

but it was all for you and he’d do it time and again just to keep you satisfied, both sexually and emotionally. When he was finally of sound mind, he’d laugh and flick his tongue over his lips once more, glaring down at the pool of seed in his lap and splattered all over his thighs. “You see what you do to me, baby? You the only one that gets my dick that hard..makes me act that way..”

and you were the only one who ever would!

[girlystories]

Two sides on the same coin

— pairings: Joseph Descamps x ex-rebellious reader

summary: you get expelled from your all girls school after an incident you get yourself into. cutting all ties with your troublesome friends, your parents send you to voltaire lycée in hopes you change your ways. an annoying prick, though, gets in the way of that, making you constantly on the verge of breaking your promise to your parents.

additional warnings: underage smoking, usage of foul language, mention of boobs ig?

authors note: very creative chapter title, ik. also really sorry for this late update, but i honestly don't haven't any excuse. it's finally here so I hope you enjoy. also i added a character from another movie cuz i can.

words: 3.9k

Chapter 1: The bastard with the dumb glasses

[Name] [Last Name] certainly wasn't expecting her first day to occur like this.

She fell down on her knees next to the wounded boy, who held on his left eye. He was whimpering in pain, making it obvious the punch he took to the face was serious.

Placing a hand on his back, she tried to receive any attention from him. She called out his name but didn't get an answer. Blood was dripping from between his fingers and his groaning increased before she was pulled away from him.

...

Lumière Lycée was nothing but a memory now, all what happened there only for the driven girl to want go remember, whenever she even wanted to. If she wanted to. She couldn't lie to herself and say it was a good time. On the contrary, it was a living hell for her. It wasn't a catholic school, but it was somehow aiming towards it.

She'd gotten in trouble one, two, three, or more times. Times she couldn't even keep track of.

Not that it even mattered now. No one would know of her past, her previous troublesome and somewhat rebellious nature in a place for her old school and only herself. It was a year ago from now, certainly she'd have changed from then. Or, in better words, she wanted to mask it deep inside. She promised it to her parents.

Moving schools meant moving overall, but she was sure she'd get used to the new environment sooner or later. Voltaire Lycée, the only academy daring to take things further and expand into a mixed school containing both boys and girls. Such a big change, things were seemingly passing so fast. It was the only thing the newspapers and radio were discussing about all day long for the past three days.

She was now brushing her hair, styling it while in her bathrobe. She added a small touch of makeup on her lashes, in a effort not to seem as tired from sleeping late the earlier day. Her anxiety forbid her from it. To bring some sort of color to her lips, she applied some chapstick. She didn't want to impress anybody, but didn't want to stand out by appearing like some sort of messy girl. That'd make a horrible impression. She opted to blend in with everybody else, which wasn't as easy since she was expected as one of the other few new girls. She'd stand out either way. How many girls would even attend that school anyway?

Either way, she hoped for a change. From having more than fifty absences, five to nine out of twelve marks, constantly snapping at her other classmates and breaking into fights, to becoming a lady with a future ahead of her.

There was a knock on her bedroom door, "[Name]," a soft voice called from behind it, "are you ready yet? Your father could give you a ride to school."

"No, it's okay," she got up from her chair, giving a last look at herself from her mirror. "I'd lather walk on my first day."

Her mother nodded and left without a word, leaving her to finish in getting ready.

[Name] opened her wardrobe, inspecting her clothes and in the end decided upon a matching set of a top and short skirt that she tried out the day before. Before leaving her room she wore her pair of Mary-Jane's.

She headed to her kitchen, where her parents were already awake, eating their breakfast before work. She took a seat and took a sip of her prepared coffe. "Good morning," she said.

Her father swallowed his own coffe before speaking, "Good morning. How do you feel about your new school?"

"Rather anxious."

"No wonder," her mother said. "A mixed school? It's a much troublesome shift from what we're used too. Wouldn't you agree, dear?"

Her dad finished his coffe, placing his mug down. "Well, we do what we can do. If only you would behave, [Name]."

"[Father name], " her mother glanced at him with knotted brows. "Don't start again."

He ignored her warnings, "Now make sure to get your shit together or else things will be really complicated. I'm saying this from the bottom of my heart."

"I know," [Name] simply said.

Her mother still kept an eye on her husband and sighed, turning her attention at her daughter. "Now you have a nice day, okay? Be home right after school or if you want stop by the bakery."

[Name] finished her butter bread, taking her bag as she got up and went to the front door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she got interrupted. Internally groaning, she went back and kissed her parents on the cheek.

"Alright, bye," she finally said and left.

Since it was still early, she stopped at her neighborhood supermarket to buy herself a pack of Gauloises, thanking the owner and lighting one while on her way. Just then she realized she didn't know the way.

Minutes later she regretted not accepting her parents' offer to drive her to school. Cursing under her breath at her possibility of being late on her first day, she kept her fast pase as she took a turn on the street she thought the school was located.

To her utter luck, she was right. When she noticed the front gate inspector closing the door she jogged there yelling for him stop. He rose his head towards her, earning his attention.

He threw his cigarette, chuckling softly. "Lucky for you, it's your first day, miss, otherwise I'd have left you locked outside," he said and opened the gate for her.

"Sorry, it won't happen again..." she breathed out.

"Well, they haven't made their way inside. Mr. Belanger is giving a speech."

"Thanks," she said and walked hurrily where everyone stood.

On top of the building's stairs stood the school staff, the students surprisingly listening from bellow. She shoved herself between the crowd to catch a word he was saying.

"-Gentlemen, I expect you to...to be as polite, respectful, magnanimous and dignified as I know you can...when on your best behavior."

"Who is that?" she asked herself.

"The school's Dean," she wasn't really expecting an answer, yet a guy replied from beside her.

She nodded at him, staying silent for a moment before talking again. "Damn, I don't even know in what class I am."

"Don't worry. They'll call your name anyway."

Just then, a woman walked forward, holding a sheet or paper. "I'll now be calling the first-year's, then proceed the second year's due to the addition of female students."

"Just like that," he smirked and Mr. Bluebeard began reading the paper.

[Name] breathed out a sigh of relief. "Good. Because I was afraid of almost getting detention from being late."

He let out a laugh, "On your first day? There's no way a person could achieve that record. Not even me. I can assure you I've tried. I don't think you get detention from being late."

"No," she said. "I said almost. Wait, what do you mean y-"

The call of her name interrupted her question.

"That's your name, right? Seems like you're in class 1B."

"Oh, yeah," she said looking as some other students walked up the starts when their names were called. "See you."

She took a seat behind two girls, and as she did so smiled at them when they seemed to acknowledged her. Little by little everyone gathered in class, each taking their seats.

The woman that was calling out the students from before walked in. "I am Mrs. Giraud, your homeroom teacher."

Then, a girl with blonde hair entered the class, eyeing the empty seats anxiously. She had her hair styled with a headband that matched her dress which was beautifully complimenting her figure. It was no surprise everyone was looking at her with either admiration or a tint of desire.

She took a seat at a desk in the front, and [Name] felt somehow disappointed she didn't choose to sit next to her instead.

Mrs. Giraud noticed her gesture. "What's your name miss?"

She got up from her seat, holding her hands together politely. "Annick Sabiani."

"Where do you think you are, miss Sabiani?"

She didn't get enough time to respond at her question.

"Do you think it's okay to sit next to a boy?" she asked sternly. "Get your things."

She began doing so, but Mrs. Giraud interrupted her again. "No. You," she pointed towards the boy next to her. He looked at her for a moment and she continued, "Get up. Go sit in the back."

"But I can't see from there."

"Back row, now," she then looked at [Name], realizing she failed in noticing her presence before. "And what's your name, miss?"

She got up, awkwardly looking around the class and trying to ignore the stares. "[Name] [Last name]."

"You sit in the front."

She gathered her bag and did as she was told, still feeling the stares accompanied with whistling sounds and whispers. The boy tried to do the same, but someone put his foot in the way. That made him trip and almost fall, the group of boys laughing and making pig noises. "It's not your day, piggy."

The teacher did nothing about it, only complaining about being interrupted. "Quiet! As I was saying... Mrs. Giraud, with a "D" as in "discipline.""

[Name] wasn't listening what she was saying anymore, glancing at the person who was at fault of tripping the poor guy. He was grinning at his friend beside him, finding it wholehearted hilarious, like it was comedy gold. He fixed his glasses before he pretending he was paying attention to Mrs. Giraud. Instead he wrote a note and showed it next to him, the duo starting cackling quietly.

Next period was Latin, where she was met with Mr. Douillard. She ultimately ended up not having a really good idea about him, earning already a bad impression by him ignoring the girls when they raised their hand. She grew more and more annoyed when he pretended not to noticed her and she just stopped trying. Sabiani did not back down, though. Still, Mr. Douillard picked the only guy that had raised his hand.

"I think she raised her hand," the same guy with the glasses pointed out in a snarky tone. He pressed his lips together to hold himself from laughing.

Much to the teachers dismay of having to pick a girl student, he side-eyed Sabiani. "Indeed. So?"

She pushed her chair back, fixing her dress. "The Romans welcome Horatio with joy and congratulations and escort him to his house."

"The Romans "cheer" Horatio," he corrected, obviously not wanting to lower to the level of ever praising a girl, wanting to dismiss their existence entirely. "Can you conjugate the verb "ovare"?"

As Sabiani was answering, [Name] noticed the guy from before writing something on a paper, giving it to the person next to him and whispering something. The note was passed down until the teacher noticed.

"Give me that," he ordered, interrupting Sabiani.

The poor guy sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. From where [Name] sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

The unlucky person sighed and stood up walking up to the teacher and handing the note. [Name] knew of him. He was Alain Laubrac, a guy who happened to be in the same gang she used to hang out last year. She stopped hanging out with them after her expulsion, when she was grounded all summer, cutting all ties with them thankfully. She hadn't spoke to him since like the rest. From where she sat she couldn't see anything but by the expression of Mr. Douillard she could tell it wasn't good.

"Think this is funny?"

"It wasn't me."

"Who is responsible for this masterpiece?"

No answer. The guy who drew it pretended he didn't know a thing, placing his pen under his bottom lip.

"Your name?"

"It wasn't me," Alain repeated.

"'It wasn't me'," Mr. Douillard sighed, "All culprits have the same name. They must be related. Okay, Mr. 'It wasn't me'...'"

"My name is Laubrac," he corrected.

"Are you the boy from the foster care?"

The whole class chuckled at that.

"Some nobody's son's trying to graduate? How amusing. Didn't anyone teach you discipline in the care system? I won't let a bastard disrupt my class. Get out."

"But he didn't do anything!" a girl with blond pigtails protested.

"Nobody taught you to raise your hand in your girls' school, Miss Magnan? Or maybe you think you have a free pass because your uncle is the Dean," the teacher mocked, hitting the paper on his palm. "Escort your new friend to your uncle's office. He'll give you detention too."

They both left the room with their heads low, the class filled with silence.

[Name] bit the inside of her mouth, raising a hand.

"Yes, miss?" the teacher complained.

"With all due respect, sir, but you're being really unfair," she said. Mr. Douillard was taked aback and she continued before he interrupted. "It was Picasso over there who did it," she eyed the glasses-guy from the back.

The smile he wore dissappeared, now glaring at her and preparing to argue something back.

"You've got a nerve talking to me like that, miss [Last Name]," the teacher said. "Don't think I haven't been informed of your performance in your past school. I'm not afraid to get you expelled here too."

The class suddenly filled with murmurs.

"Unless you want detention as well I advice you to sit back down."

She looked down and without having anything else to say she sat on her chair. Her grip on her pen tightened when she looked back and seeing the guy still stare at her, slowly forming a winning smirk.

Bastard, she thought.

Finally lunch came, and she exhaled a sigh of relief as she stood up from her seat, an instant need to stretch her body overtaking her. She only wanted to smoke as soon as possible, the necessity of nicotine calling out to her from not being present for a while. She closed her notebook and walked out the classroom as soon as there was space for her to walk through the students.

She walked down the big row of starts, avoiding in pushing the boy in front of her, but still having trouble keeping her patience.

Just as she was about to turn a corner she felt her face being hit with a flat surface, being jolted back.

"Woah, what's the rush?" she felt an arm on her shoulder and was met with a silly smile. It was the guy from earlier in the morning.

"Sorry," she said, feeling embarrassed. She allowed herself to groan, feeling free from expressing her feelings. Even in front of this guy she just met. "I just couldn't stay in that room anymore."

"I didn't know class 1B was that far off," he joked.

"You know anyone from there?"

"Certainly. I could name quite a few if you ask me."

"Ugh, then I'm sure you know. Speaking of, in what class did you end up?"

He placed a hand in his pocket. "2B," he smiled. "If my last name was different we could've been in the same class. Maybe then the school year wouldn't be so bad."

"Yeah, talk about luck," she played along his playful attitude. She didn't know where he was getting at, but he was at least tolerable. "Oh, hey, we haven't met properly before."

"You're right," he extended his palm, smiling at her. "Mick Travis."

She replied with her name, shaking his hand. "Mick Travis? Is that French or..."

"I'm originally from Britain, but I've moved here for a while. I don't know for how long but I'll do what I can in the meantime. Second year in this school and I can't wait to get out of here."

"Did something happen last year?"

"It's a long story," he said simply, changing the subject. "So, where are you headed?"

In the end they sat at a bench, under a tree to avoid the bright sun from blinding their eyes and having to constantly squint at each other. Travis sat sideways, his one leg crossed while the other was extended freely, his head resting on his palm, the other holding his cigarette.

[Name] lazily looked up at the tree as the wind moved it's leafs, making her almost fall asleep. "Are they gotta tell us something for not going to eat?"

"Hell no, I'm sure they know how ass the food is anyway. We're just saving our lives at the moment."

She hummed, putting out her finished cigarette.

"So," he adjusted his head, in a way to look at her. "What do you think of this school?"

"I don't know. But I hope this year passes quickly. Last year was the worst year of my life."

This peacked his interest. "How so?"

"Long story," she laughed when she realized he responded the same way before. "Maybe I'll tell you if I skip a class."

"Fine."

Break ended too quickly for [Name] to enjoy and she dragged her feet to class, with Travis having to sometimes push her while she groaned in annoyance.

She walked inside, making eyecontact with Sabiani and giving her a look of "I can't stand being here already." The poor girl only giving her a sympathetic smile in response.

She was about to sleep on her desk, when a commotion made her raise her head to see what was going on. Descamps and his friends – whatever their names were, she didn't even bother to know – were making a fuss over something, and she noticed quickly a bucket filled with water behind the door. Descamps grabbed it and attempted to place it on top of the door, ordering one of his friends to keep watch from outside in the process.

The class did nothing, and so did [Name]. It took her a while to realize that a prank was happening, so whoever were to walk in would get drenched in that dirty bucket water. She rose from her seat, throwing her chair back and scaring Sabiani from beside her. She did promise not to act out, in hopes of not getting unwanted attention from the teachers, but she had enough from that Latin teacher anyway. She wouldn't let anyone stop her now.

She walked up to him, pushing him and making him almost spill the water. He narrowed his eyes at her, before he flashed her a cocky smile. "What's that? Didn't you learn your lesson from getting expelled from your last school? Are you planning on doing the same thing here?"

She clenched her jaw at the nerve he had. He didn't even know of her, yet acted better than her. "I'll get expelled for this? You're the one putting a bucket on top of the damn door."

She felt a hand grabbing her wrist and she turned around. "Don't get involved, just continue sleeping on your desk like you were before," it was one of Descamps friends.

She snatched her hand away, "Don't touch me." Turning her attention back at the vile glasses-wearing guy, she attempted to take the bucket away from him, only for him to raise it over her head, mocking her in the process. She would've been intimidated by his height, but she was already used to scarier guys from last year. Descamps laughed at her unsuccessful attempts, then motioned something to his friend. He got the memo and held back [Name] by restraining her.

"Let me down!" she yelled, but they ignored her, finally Descamps putting the damn bucket where he planned from the beginning. She looked at the rest of the class, everyone doing nothing about the whole thing and staying silent in their seats. She made eyecontact with Laubrac, her eyes seeking for his help. He only looked away, hiding his shame.

The victim of the prank was Magnan, as the water completely covered her from head to toe. Her braids were starting to fall apart from her cute style. Her frozen body left in shock as she looked around the class, everyone watching her without reaction. [Name] felt shame when she realized the water made the fabric on her chest area visible, being stuck on her skin.

Descamps and his friends were the only ones breaking the silence in the room, chuckling to themselves and breaking out laughing, [Name] being no longer being held back.

Suddenly he swallowed hard and composed himself at the sight of Mrs. Couret. He looked at her nervously and placed both his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Couret was in shock at first, but acted quickly, taking of her jacket and putting it around Magnan. She ordered [Name] and Sabiani to look over the class, but they knew that with both of them combined they couldn't control Descamps and his dumb crew. Moments later, they exited the classroom, headed to the nurses office.

If that wasn't enough, Descamps even drew on the chalkboard, being a picture of who she assumed was Magnan, her chest area being the most prominent. [Name] was about to go off again, but Sabiani grabbed her wrist instead, shaking her head at her to tell her to stop. After a bit of contemplating she backed down. Before she could even sigh in disappointment, a senior barged inside the classroom.

He pushed a guy from his way and swing at one of the guys that indulged in the "prank". Sabiani yelled at them to stop but it escalated even worse. Descamps went to defend him, and this lead to him being hit. In the eye area. Next thing she knew, he was kneeled to the ground. Everything had happened so fast, [Name] was frozen in place.

Without thinking she fell next to him, trying to get a look at his injury. It was pretty hard to do so, as he pressed onto his left eye, his back slouching more and more as he couldn't contain his pain anymore. His groans made him so he couldn't hear the girl from beside him, but the warm touch on his shaking body comforted him even for a bit.

[Name] felt herself suddenly being pushed back, and she calmed herself when she realized it was the Dean.

"Let me see," he said, crouching to Descamps' level.

"My eye...! I can't see..."

"Don't touch it okay? Can you stand up?" when he nodded, he helped him get up. He then ordered Pichon to get the nurse, but she was already there.

"He's got some glass in his eye," Mr. Belanger said softly at his wife, as she placed a hand on his back and led him outside, mentioning something about taking him to the hospital.

"Get back to your class!" he yelled at the students that were watching from outside the door. "Dupin, take your seat. Jean-Pierre, my office. You two, put the chairs back. You wipe that off. And you, clean that now!" he looked at the rest of the class, his piercing look sending shivers down [Name]'s spine. "Everyone else, take your seats!" he ordered and the tone of his voice made everyone do so without question. "Quietly!"

He sighed, "I'll leave you to it, Miss Couret," he said, giving a last look to the teacher that had just arrived before storming off.

The rest of the day seemed to pass way slower that before.

tagging: @kpoploverxx-12 @puchosdementa @tropicalheart13 @luvmacyyyy @aiuragf @idontlikemonday @helchronicles @bubblegum-bitchhhhhhhhh @visndcaitswhore @blueberryblood11 @remusmuse @pookayyyyy @blvckdress @lirominissss @issoais-blog @murxhavia @b3l1z8 @nikkoiiii @beau-min

©ssnowville ©snowville

[tojisun]

i fall to pieces

dilf!toji x college student!fem reader

!! this is a mess of tropes that i’ve always wanted to explore (such as lovingly tending injuries and being in love with your best friend’s dad) - the second one is a major CW; legal age gap (reader is in her early 20s and toji is in his late 40s); mentions of bullying (not between toji and the reader); petnames; no curses au // 2.9k words

: i had fun writing this even though i kinda forgot what the plot is midway; i hope u guys would like it <33; title is from cherry - lana

your knuckles, the ones that aren’t bruised, raps on the door, impatience thrumming in your veins. the ache in your jaw still stings, but you are far too focused on the split skin on your knuckles and how the trickling blood had turned the hems of your cream-coloured long sleeves into a garish sight. your chest heaves at another ragged exhale, your whole body trembling, feeling the burning remnants of exhaustion. 

the door opens after your last bout of knocks.

“jesus, what- y/n?”

you startle, not expecting toji to be the one to answer the door.

“what the fuck happened to you?” he asks when you didn’t reply, reaching to wrap around your less injured hand, clasping his thick fingers and warm palm around your wrist to tug you inside the quaint home. 

“uh,” you say unintelligibly, following him with unsteady feet as he leads you two to the living room. “is gumi-chan here, fushiguro-san?” is what you said instead, not really knowing where to even begin with unpacking the dumpster fire of a fight that you were in just minutes ago. 

he clicks his tongue. “i told you to just call me ‘toji’, kid.” he sits you on the sofa, your body bouncing on the plush cushions in a cartoonish way. “and brat’s with y’r other friend. the loud one with pink hair.”

you hum. “yuuji,” you say even though toji would just forget your friend’s name again.

he grunts. “yeah, that one. a’right, you,” toji points at you. “y’stay here and don’t even think about movin’.” then he disappears, his feet padding quietly on the wooden floors. 

only when he’s left do you realize how tense you still are, your shoulders poised as if expecting an attack. you force yourself to let go, feeling your body tremble at the extra effort it needed to exert to unwind your aching body. your eyes slip shut, your brows furrowing as your side throbs in pain again. fuck, you thought, the bitch got me good. 

any other day, you would’ve found yourself winning a tussle with no injuries. or, you grumbled to yourself, i wouldn’t even be in the tussle. but they had no right to pick on mai like that. 

(“heard you sucked cocks to get here,” fake blondie crooned as she wagged her stick-like finger, tutting like mai was a child.

mai bristled—who wouldn’t? 

she’s put countless efforts to get to where she is right now, and for her integrity to be questioned, because what? mai’s too pretty, too confident in herself, for a smart kid? clearly fake blondie hasn't seen enough of your friend group if she’s baffled by how someone could be smart and pretty and confident. even panda was charming, and no one even knows what he looks like underneath that mask he stuffs his head in. 

so next thing you knew nobara was throwing a punch, with momo jumping at fake blondie, and of course you had to join in; you weren’t going to let your girls fight on their own. but then one of fake blondie’s friends pulled out a bat out of nowhere and hit you at your side. 

you stumbled on your feet, almost tumbling to your knees at the sharp pain. mai’s shrill scream had been enough of a wake-up call before you were reaching at bat girl’s hair and yanking hard, forcing her to crumple before you. 

it was a blur after that. then mai was nudging you out of the alley, murmuring her thanks, before you four were parting ways.)

you hear toji walking back in and you peel your eyes open, tracking him as he makes his way back to you. he falls on the floor, almost between your legs, and your breath stutters when you realize the lack of proper distance between you and your best friend’s dad, so you clamp your legs shut and looked away just before toji could lift his head to meet your eyes. 

you startle when warm hands clasp with yours, your eyes jumping back to toji.

“easy,” he grunts like your heart isn’t thrumming loud and fast within the cages of your ribs. you swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

“ok-y,” you reply, internally cringing when your voice breaks at the end of a single word. fuck, you’re a mess. you clear your throat, feigning nonchalance even as toji begins uncapping the alcohol. “okay,” you repeat.  

he hums, spilling alcohol into the cotton ball before pressing the soaked cotton on your split skin. a hiss makes it past your teeth before you are clamping your lips tightly, trying your best not to jostle your body any more. you didn’t even notice your flinch until you hear toji’s soft shh sounds, his thumb running soothing circles on the part of your skin that isn’t wounded or bruised.

“m’sorry,” you murmur, feeling shy all of a sudden, your lips still pursed at the dull thrum of pain.

“s’fine,” he says. “should’a warned you.” toji pauses, the cotton pinched between thick fingers. he looks at you. “good to go?”

you nod, not trusting your treacherous voice anymore. 

toji’s lips quirk up in a small smile. “good girl.”

your mind screeches to a halt, your breath getting stuck in your lungs. it is like the world has stopped orbiting—it hasn’t, not when you can see toji dressing your wounds with gentle hands and even gentler touch—and all that’s left is the echoing words that toji just uttered.

good girl, he said naturally. genuinely. 

good girl, he said in a voice that denoted nothing out of the norm, the same way we’d say the sky is blue and the ocean is deep and you are a good girl. 

(his good girl.)

good girl, he said like he meant it.

fuck. fuck.

a squeal is building in your throat, your body trembling softly as the emotions seated in your chest began to expand and spill over and–

“ow!” you hiss, unconsciously tugging your hand away from toji’s hold, feeling the bite of stinging alcohol running along your tender skin where scratches and beading blood laid.

toji blinks at you. you blink at him in return, feeling prickles of embarrassment creeping from the base of your neck. 

you laugh, something so fake and brittle, feeling so ashamed and awkward. “sorry.”

toji shakes his head, huffing fondly, and his eyes crinkling in such a soft way. “c’mon kid, give y’r hand to me and we can finish patchin’ it up.”

you gingerly give him your hand again, licking your lips, wanting to say something even though words aren’t structuring themselves properly in your head, only to collapse into silence as toji’s hands cradle yours softly once again.

(he’s always been so soft with you.)

he hums, approval dancing in his tone. “y’r doin’ well, kid.”

before you could stop yourself, a wheeze punches itself past your throat. christ, the praises.

toji looks up, concerned.

“just parched,” you say before he could ask, feigning dry coughs to strengthen your obvious lie.

“…i’ll get you somethin’ after this,” toji replies hesitantly. “you still like those ramune, yeah?” 

“yeah,” you answer, your voice curling as you smile, watching as toji begins to bandage your hand. your cheeks tingle when toji’s lips tug up at hearing your quiet excitement. 

you cough, clearing your throat. “i’m shocked gumi-chan kept a stock here,” you say, after a while, wanting to break the loaded silence. “he said he doesn’t like them anymore.” your nose scrunches in judgement.

toji kept to himself for a moment and you wondered if you said something wrong. shame curls in your stomach, chasing away the previous excitement that had been budding in your chest. an apology sits on your tongue, prickling and heavy, then toji huffs. it’s only then do you notice that the bandages are secured but toji still hasn’t let go of your hand. 

“yeah, megumi’s done with ‘em,” he finally says, running soothing circles on your skin again. “i just kept buyin’ a bunch cause i know you like ‘em.”

“oh,” you mutter, feeling so breathless and choked up at the same time. 

toji chuckles without humour. “yeah. ‘oh’.” 

there’s a certain hesitancy in his next caress, an internal battle flickering from within his eyes, and you feel lost, anxiety and desire mixing in an uneasy tandem, overwhelming your veins to the point of silencing the previous beating you had. then, toji lets go.

your hands twitch, jolting to pull him back, but you catch yourself before your touch can connect. but it’s too late: toji had seen your aborted move.

he looks at you, searching for something in your eyes. a heartbeat passed, and you don’t know what’s gotten into you but you fall into his space, your knees hitting the floor with a loud thud. it’d be another pair of bruises that you’d carry home today but for now, with trembling arms and roaring heart, you let your hope choke you to the point of acting stupidly.

the kiss was chaste, cracked lips just landing on top of scarred ones. the world felt faraway yet scorching at the same time.

you feel toji tense under you and panic explodes in your chest.

stupid. stupid!

you pull back, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but you are stopped by toji’s arms encircling your waist to tug you to his lap. one of toji’s arms snake to your back, his palm coming to rest on the back of your head, before you feel him pulling you back into another kiss. this one is deeper. more heated. more desperate.

good. you think to yourself as your eyes shut close, feeling yourself drowning in toji’s kiss. so good.

you loop your arms around toji’s neck, tugging him closer as if you two aren’t already pressed flushed onto each other, raking your fingers through the straight strands of his hair. 

you savour the kiss, the moment, toji’s touch. you know that after this, there will be nothing between you and toji. a shared kiss is easy to forget as time crawls by, after all, nothing good will come out if things between yourselves are made serious. you’re not allowed to hope.

but god, the way you still do.

you hope that toji would make you his, whatever “being his” even means. you hope that he’d whisper confessions, stilted as they always are from toji’s lips, or praises. lots and lots of praises. you hope that when you two pull apart for air, toji would push himself back in your space and kiss you again, just as yearning as you are.

(you hope he loves you just as much.)

then, despite your internal cries of ‘too soon’, toji is pulling himself from the kiss. you let go, sucking in air desperately, filling your lungs with needed air to distract yourself from the searing loneliness that is crushing you already. 

you clamber off his lap, not meeting his eyes, only to pause when toji refused to let you go.

“uhm,” you begin, trying your best to ignore the tingling of your lips, when toji refused to budge. “toji-san?”

you startle when he cups your cheeks. “told you it’s just ‘toji’, kid.”

“okay,” you murmur. “toji, what’s, uhm, what’s up?”

he chuckles. “well if you keep rollin’ your hips, then somethin’s gon’ be up, a’right.”

you choke, startling on his lap upon hearing his words, the previous tensed atmosphere shattering into something light and humorous. “what the hell?”

but toji doesn’t regale you a response, instead he caresses the skin under your eye, smiling cheekily. “my pretty girl,” he coos. 

your lips part, ready for just as cheeky of a response, when toji’s eyes turn sharp and steely, chasing away the stuttering words on the tip of your tongue. 

“you fought them well, didn’t you?” he continues, his voice still in that crooning tone. “you came to me, beautiful in y’r anger.” toji’s voice has turned into measured murmurs. “and i know you must’ve won—you always do, kid.”

you nod, not knowing where the conversation is going.

“but you came to me, bleedin’ and achin’ and it terrified me.” he leans forward and presses a kiss on the corner of your lips. “and it got me thinkin’–” he pauses, going silent.

you shiver, feeling the way his lips are still pressed on your skin, ghosting with their touch—teasing, caressing. the desire keeps growing in the pit of your stomach.

then, toji pulls back, his eyes finding yours as he says, “i don’t think i can handle lettin’ you go anymore, pretendin’ i don’t love you.” 

“what.” your voice came out as a gasp, your lips (still tingling from toji’s kiss, you noticed with satisfaction) falling in surprise.

“wait,” you say because you couldn’t fathom a reality where toji said he loves you. “what?”

“c’mon kid, up-up,” he replies instead, carefully pushing you off his lap and urging you to stand before he can clamber to his feet. you follow his command, feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed by everything.

he loves you?

“let’s get you y’r ramune,” he continues, pulling you to the kitchen, like he didn’t just drop a bombshell on you. still, you follow him to the kitchen—you would honestly follow him everywhere—hovering by the fridge, bandaged hand intertwined with toji’s own scarred hand, watching as he rummages past refrigerated produce, before pulling out the peach-flavoured soda. your favourite. 

toji lets go of your hand and rips the seal off the nozzle before pushing on the ball. the clink of glass on glass is the only sound in the kitchen as toji turns and hands you the drink. 

“thank you,” you say before taking a sip.

toji leans forward and presses a kiss on your forehead. “always.”

your cheeks burn, your veins thrumming with each wild pump of your yearning heart. the affection you have for him is spilling over and even with toji’s disjointed confession, you know it’s your turn to make the move.

so you step on your tiptoes, kissing toji on his jaw, before murmuring, “i’ve loved you since.”

as if that was all that toji had been waiting for, toji doesn’t waste any time before he’s scooping you off the floor and plopping you on the counter, his lips are hot as they met yours for another kiss. he cups your jaw, tilting your head up to deepen the kiss. the ramune slips from your hold but toji catches the soda, plopping it beside you, before turning his now free hands to touch whatever they could of your body. you reciprocate with the same ferocity, tugging at black strands and nipping his bottom lip, trying to convey the want and the love and the heat simmering inside you.

toji growls, deep and satisfied, his voice rumbling between you two. it was loaded with an emotion that easily reflected the storm raging in your chest, silencing the budding uncertainty over toji’s affections for you. you scratch at his back, trying to hold onto him tighter, afraid that this is just another dream.

(you used to count every single one of them, only stopping when one of those dreams left you too raw, feeling like you have been gutted and left to bleed on your bed.

you don’t remember the whole of it, but even with only the fragments you were left with, you know why you ache: flashes of a little kid with toji’s eyes and your nose; flashes of a life beyond flirty conversations and fleeting touches; flashes of vows that lasted a lifetime. 

you woke up sobbing in your dorm room, feeling so small, so robbed of what you wish life could be with toji.)

toji pulls back, the whine in your throat cutting off into a moan when his lips latch on your throat, sucking and biting—marking you up because you are his. you arch your back, giving toji more room to stake his claim on you. 

lust and love are mixing, leaving you breathless and teary-eyed because god you’ve been waiting for this for so long. 

“love you,” you hiccup, trembling when toji’s hands hook under your shirt, tickling your skin with his ghosting touch.

“shh,” toji murmurs, fond and understanding, straightening up to gaze back at you again. “i know, baby. i’ve got you.” he loops your legs around his waist before toji is hoisting you up in his arms and, without staggering, carrying you to his room.

your eyes flutter when he carefully lays you down on his bed, his eyes watching you with reverence. 

“let me love you,” he whispers.

you nod, softly. desperately. “please.”

his touch is a gentle scorch, his bigger body easily covering yours. when he thrusts, it is deep and and strong and filling, reaching your most intimate parts with measured strokes and unwavering intensity. when you cry his name, he croons and coos, praises spilling from his scarred lips along with his promises of loving you and caring for you, something that is so sentimental even as he continues to fuck you filthily.

“my sweet girl,” he murmurs on your skin, his lips latched on your collarbone. you almost don’t hear him amidst the consistent slaps of his thighs on your pelvis. “my precious, sweet girl.”

that’s how you cum: toji deep in you, your name slipping past his lips like prayer, and your pleasure consuming your every nerve.

you know things aren’t perfect, not yet anyway, but your mind is a mush, overwhelmed with toji (his scent, his touch, his words), your body is singing with euphoric contentment so you bury the worries deep in the pockets of your chest because for now, you are in the arms of the man you love. and he loves you just as firmly. 

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Unfurled Splendor [Yandere Xiao x Reader]

Title: Unfurled Splendor [Yandere Xiao x Reader]

Synopsis: You know daylight existed, once. You just can't remember what it really looked like.

For 2022 Horrorfest request: always night trope with xiao

Word count: 1270

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, isolation

There are certain things that you must tell yourself on repeat or you’re certain that you’ll forget them. They keep you tethered to the ground, sometimes by a thread, so that you don’t simply give up and float away. 

One, you were not always here, in this little house created inside Xiao’s abode. “House” being a lofty term for a space with two rooms, a simple bathroom and open living space. 

You used to live outside, and not the artificial outside that he created at your behest (and begging) but the real outside. With unpredictable weather and animals that did not behave on loops, only capable of repeating what gestures and patterns Xiao had created for you. 

There were other people, people who were mean or nice or somewhere in between. You worked at a job and went to shops and had friends and family. 

And there was freedom, most importantly of all. An elusive creature, now. It’s not something Xiao can create and set onto a carefully tracked loop, though you’re certain that if he could come up with a way to do so, that he would try his best. 

And two--this one is easiest to forget--it was not always night. There had been sunshine, once. Warm, lovely sunshine that dappled through the trees when you walked in the woods; that bore down on you, a hot blanket, in the summertime; that shone through your windows, waking you in the morning with the delighted chirping of the birds.

Yes, you had seen the sun… but that was a long time ago. Before Xiao took you here. Before you had gone nearly mad with being stuck inside all day, and he’d offered up the solution of letting you go “outside,” which turned out to be yet another artificial world of his own creation.

Before he’d decided to make it night time and never bothered bringing back the sun. That was… weeks ago, at least. You don’t know why or when he stopped bothering with daylight. Maybe it was too taxing on him to go back and forth between night and day. Maybe he just didn’t care. 

You do not ask him for the daylight again, because you should not need to ask. Yet that is what your life has become, reminding Xiao of all the things humans need to stay healthy and sane. Like a variety of food and not the same thing day after day; like blankets and pillows; like a bathroom with a  properly fitted tub and toilet. Like books or clothes or things to do. 

Not that he always gives you what you need. He considers most of these things “wants,” to be meted out at his own discretion.  

Sunlight, apparently, fit within that category of “want.” And no matter how often you stared up at the same night sky, wishing for it to fade or at least change, he didn’t seem to pick up on things.

It’s here that he finds you, again, staring at the night sky. Only this time your thoughts have grown so sour and introspective that there are tears in your eyes, sparkling in the cool moonlight that always shines into the window a little bit, dappled through a large, leafy tree.

If the tree were real, there might be any number of nocturnal animals that call it home. As it is, there is only a stationary night-bird that calls out exactly twice an hour. Mechanical. Like a clock. You thought it pretty once, but now you hate it.

There’s a touch on your shoulder and you flinch. Xiao draws back, and says your name. Evidently, he’d said it before.

You turn, just a little, and let him see your tears. Why not? It’s not like he ever responds to them, except perhaps to excuse himself or awkwardly shove a handkerchief into your hands. 

This time, he actually speaks up, although you can see the tension in his stiff posture.

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

There might have been a time where you would have turned away from him, now, and went back to crying silently. Let him worry. Let him figure it out himself, if he could. But something about tonight--tonight? it’s always night, damn it--has you increasingly wound up. Your fingers curl on the windowsill. Your chest aches.

And so you whirl on him, chest heaving. 

“What’s wrong is that it’s been night for weeks and it’s driving me mad and you don’t seem to care.” Your voice cracks on the last word, spiteful tears sliding down your cheeks. 

 He stares at you for a few long moments before looking out the window at the sky he created. And then he looks back at you with such a confused expression that it makes you want to slap him and bring him into your arms, one and the same. 

“You… said you liked the stars,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he doesn’t understand. He treats your complaints like that of a child, demanding something nonsensical in the middle of the day, perhaps due to a lack of nap. “So I’ve kept them there.”

You turn and gaze out the window at the same night sky that you’ve seen for weeks on end. You could explain that humans need daylight and sunlight. You could explain that seeing the same night sky for an extended period of time is enough to drive anyone mad.

Instead--

“Those aren’t stars,” you reply, quiet. 

Behind you, Xiao huffs. 

“Yes, they are. They look just like the ones--”

You turn on him, and your face begins to crack, eyes crinkling, mouth turning down. “They aren’t real stars. I want real stars. I want real sunshine. I want everything to be real. Can’t you understand that?”

Xiao’s eyes widen, and the look on his face takes on an expression of slight hurt. Just enough to notice. He raises one of his hands toward your cheek, moving to touch you.

“I… understand,” he says, finally. Slowly. Weighing your words and his own. You’re afraid to do the same, afraid to see you through his own eyes. 

So you shake your head, blinking away the tears, and crawl into bed. Maybe in your dreams something will be different for once, but more often than not, the night sky leaked into your dreams, too. 

You hear the sound of Xiao sitting down in the chair by the window as your brain begins to drift into the fogginess of sleep. 

When you wake up, sunshine filters through the sole window inside the house. Birds chirp in a pattern that you know will loop, eventually. It’s startling, jarring. Your brain doesn’t make sense of it at first. 

You slowly get out of bed, afraid that it might be a dream. You set aside the blanket, you stand up, you take a few steps to the window--and still, the scene outside is blissful, sweet daytime. 

Your fingers rest on the windowsill, soaking in the scene he’s created before you. The sound of birds--a few you can spot, but you hate to look at them, knowing that you’ll recognize their pattern soon enough. A mechanical breeze that comes every so often (you don’t count the seconds between them, not yet); clouds, lazily drifting by in the blue sky, and all of it lit by an artificially bright sun stuck up high. 

It’s not real. It will never be real. Only you are real, here, the only normal, human, mortal thing that will ever exist on this plane. 

Behind the clouds, you can see the remnants of those artificial stars, still twinkling. 

[wolfjackle-creates]

Please tell me that with 'Johnny and Kitty pocess Superman and Batman' That they are either on a date or go on a date after a fight? Please this needs to happen

@britcision also asked about this one!

So I was looking through what I wrote of this and...it's not that good. It's based on a prompt from back in Nov 2022 and I was still figuring things out back then and needed to rewrite everything I wrote at least once. It's less crack than you'd expect from the title, I'm afraid.

So I'm gonna do part of that rewrite. Because I'm insane and don't have self control. 🤣

Anyway, the prompt is from @zeestarfishalien and can be found here. Oddly it doesn't have half as many notes as I remember it having. Huh. Guess I thought it had more because I latched onto it so strongly.

Anyway, enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

"Danny!" yelled Jazz from downstairs.

Danny froze for just a moment. That was Jazz's something-is-wrong voice. He dropped through the floor to get to her that much quicker. "What happened?" he demanded.

She just pointed to the TV where a news reporter was standing in a city. Behind her, Batman stood next to the open driver's side door to the batmobile while Superman floated in the air a few feet away with his arms crossed.

"Don't look at me like that, baby," said Batman.

"I will look at you however the hell I want. You forgot our date, asshole!" yelled Superman back.

The reporter grinned at the camera. "Looks like quite the lover's tiff we've stumbled upon! Who would have ever suspected Batman and Superman of being in a relationship?"

Behind her, Superman used his heat vision to shoot at Batman who cursed loudly before jumping into his car and speeding off. Superman huffed and flew in the opposite direction. Jazz muted the TV while the reporter continued making speculations about Batman and Superman's relationship. Danny stared at Jazz in horror.

"That was—"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think it was."

Danny closed his eyes and thought about the half finished essay he had upstairs and the history test he had the next day and how his parents would be home in an hour. He wanted to cry.

"I have to go to Gotham."

"I'll take care of our parents. Have you had the flu yet this year?"

Danny's laugh had a hysterical edge to it. "Tuck's been keeping track of my excuses. Ask him. I'll just…" Danny let the sentence trail as he transformed and flew out of the house without another word.

Even flying as fast as he could, he didn't arrive in Gotham until night had fallen. He tried to sense Johnny or Kitty or listen for the chaos that always followed them, but the city was so big.

After over half an hour of searching with no luck, Danny was sitting on a roof with his head buried in his knees trying not to cry. He only had so many hours before he had to be back in Amity for school. If he missed any more days, he'd get a suspension and his parents would be livid.

Just then, the clock tower chimed ten. Danny lifted his head to look at the tall building, one of the tallest in the city. He might not have any idea how to find Batman, but surely the other heroes would. Maybe he could get their attention?

In a matter of minutes, he was floating above the clock tower. With a deep breath, he shot an ectoblast up into the sky. Two minutes later, he repeated the action.

Not long after his fifth blast, two grapple hooks attached to the tower near his feet and seconds later he was facing Batman and Robin.

Danny immediately fell into a fighting stance. "Johnny, I'm not going to let you get away with this. Get out of him. Now."

But instead of calling him a do-gooder nerd, Batman pulled out a batarang and held it ready to throw. "I'm not this Johnny," he growled.

Danny relaxed and sighed in relief. "Oh thank the ancients, you got him out. I'm so, so sorry, Batman! I know you and the Justice League are relying on me to keep the ghosts from escaping Amity. Johnny and Kitty must’ve gotten past me. How'd you get Johnny out? Were you able to help Superman? Kitty is at least reasonable most of the time so I hope she didn't give you any trouble. Where are they now? I'll just collect them and bring them back to the Realms."

Robin pulled out his sword and pointed it at Danny. "What do you know of Fa— Batman's condition? Who is this 'Johnny' you speak of?"

Danny's core stuttered in his chest. The kid couldn't mean… He looked past the blade pointed at him towards Batman. "You… aren't Batman. Are you? You're covering for him while Johnny is overshadowing the real one."

Batman put a hand on Robin's shoulder. "Lower the sword, Robin." To Danny, he said, "I think you owe us some explanations."

Danny buried his head in his hands and tried to bite back the tears. He was so tired. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. They got past me and I failed. I'm so sorry."

“Desist with your groveling and explain!” ordered Robin.

“Right, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” Danny looked up, but the stars were hidden behind smog and lights. He sighed. “I’m Phantom, of course. Responsible for monitoring the portal in Amity and keeping ghosts from coming through and causing problems on Earth. Also for stopping human hunters from hurting any ghosts. Johnny and Kitty, two ghosts, must have gotten past me. I’m careful, I swear. We set up an alarm on the portal so I know the moment someone comes through, but I missed them somehow. I…maybe they came through at the same time as someone else? I’ve had to deal with Skulker and Boxy so far this week. And Queen Dora came for a visit and one of Pandora’s people stopped by to drop something off. So if Johnny and Kitty came through at the same time… Pariah curse it, I should’ve realized. What a stupid design flaw. I’ll be working on a fix for that as soon as I get out of school tomorrow. I’d do it sooner, but I’ve a test you see. And if I miss any more class, I’ll get a suspension, and then my parents really will kill me again.”

Danny winced when he saw Robin’s fingers twitch towards his sword again. “Sorry! No more excuses. It’ll be fixed ASAP, promise. Um, Johnny is generally into motorcycles, but I think he saw the Batmobile and wanted to take it for a ride so he overshadowed Batman. From what I saw on the news, he blew off a date with Kitty to do it so she’s pissed and followed him and ended up overshadowing Superman. Probably so she could use his powers on top of her own to punish Johnny.” He trailed off and waited for the yelling to start.

But they were silent.

Danny shifted from foot to foot. “Again, I’m really sorry. I know you rely on me to keep this from happening and I swear it won’t again. But if you tell me where you think Batman is, I’ll go retrieve Johnny. Same with Superman and Kitty. I need to get this wrapped up by four, maybe four thirty, so I can get home in time for school to start.” He couldn’t hold back a yawn. He just wanted to sleep.

Batman and Robin exchanged a glance and Batman put away his weapon. “I’ve never heard of you or this Amity before. You’re a kid, who is your Justice League mentor? Why aren’t they here?”

“I… What? Justice League mentor? What are you talking about? All of my mentors are ghosts.”

Robin snorted. “Who informed you that it was your responsibility to monitor this portal that allows these ghosts to invade? Why are you the only one preventing attacks such as this?”

Danny bristled. “I’m not alone! Sam and Tucker and my sister help me!”

��Are they kids like you?” asked Batman.

“If by like me you mean ghosts, of course not. They’re fully alive. I’m the only ghost of the group.”

“No,” said Batman after a pause. “That’s not what I meant. I wanted to know if they were teenagers who still go to school like you or if they were adults you worked with.”

Danny shrugged. “Jazz is starting college next year, but yeah. They’re my friends.”

Batman let out a long breath. “Right. And why do you think the Justice League is expecting you, specifically, to monitor this portal?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Because you told me that!” He saw Batman open his mouth to say something and quickly added, “Not you specifically, but, like, the League. This guy Constantine came by a month or two after the portal opened and saw me and relaxed. Said he was glad to see I was already handling things there. Gave me a number and laughed and said if anyone could handle the situation, it’d be me, but I could call if I needed back up.” He shrugged. “And he was right. So far I have been able to handle it. This is an exception and I’ll get it fixed in a few hours tops.”

Robin ground his teeth. “That lazy magician.”

Batman also muttered something under his breath. “Thank you, Phantom. For doing so much on your own. If you tell us how to free Batman and Superman, we can handle it from here.”

“What?” Danny shook his head in confusion. “What are you talking about? You need specialized weapons that I don’t have on me and containment devices and access to a portal to the Realms to get rid of them. Seriously, I can get this taken care of. Just tell me where Batman is.”

Batman sighed again. “We don’t have much of a choice. Fine. But will you be able to get us these weapons and containment devices if we requested some of you? We’ll pay you, of course. And we’d like more details on what you’ve been dealing with. I’m afraid Constantine… did not share the details of your dealings with the rest of us.”

“Yeah, sure. The weapons are made by Drs. Jack and Maddie Fenton of FentonWorks, based out of Amity Park, Illinois. Their son Danny can help you pick out the most useful ones. Some are more torture device than anything, though, so definitely avoid those. Danny will be able to tell you the difference.”

Batman nodded once, jaw clenched. “Thank you. Now, I’ve just gotten an update on the possessed Batman’s location. Follow us.”

-----

Dick is pretending to be Batman here. If they have a "normal" batman out, then they can show the possessed batman is an imposter.

I saw some debate on the original over whether Johnny would possess Batman or Superman. To me, the answer was obvious. He'd possess Batman because he wanted to take the Batmobile for a spin.

Meanwhile, Kitty is the smart one. She'd go for Superman because then she could use his powers and her own to 1) punish Johnny and 2) prevent anyone from stopping them.

Regarding Constantine: He made an oops, but it's not (fully) his fault. Due to time missions from Clockwork, Phantom is shown to be thousands of years old and is known for fantastic feats. If Constantine had known this was some fourteen year old newly dead kid, he'd have acted differently. Instead, he thinks Danny is older than he is with millenia of experience.

This is free for anyone to continue!

[btsgotjams27]

things you don't know (2) | jjk

summary: the aftermath of jimin's party is weighing on your mind and you wonder if you have the courage to face jeon jungkook again.

✨ title: things you don't know (part 2) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: PG-13 ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 3.8k ✨ warnings: pov switch, we get to find out what happened to reader's panties, jimin's a menace, but overall a good friend :'), minor language, reader loves to threaten her friends (in a loving way ofc), jk & reader talk (properly), not really a warning but a mint mojito is a iced coffee drink not alcohol lol ✨ a/n: hi??? we're back with these two :') I didn't think anyone would like the first part that I wrote bc it was so angsty! lol but I'm so happy it was well received. i hope this gives everyone some closure. also, i'm scared of this flopping bc so many people asked for another part. i was so close to not writing it, but alas here it is. as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts. don't be afraid to drop any questions or comments. gonna go hide now, byeeee!

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

~ JK POV ~

A haze of darkness loomed in the early hours of the morning. The night sky should've been clear according to the weather icons on Jungkook's phone. Could it be that his eyes are deceiving him? Were they hazy and cloudy? If he rubbed them, would the sky finally be clear? Or maybe you have blurred his vision, distorted his mind.

As if you weren’t already on his mind 24/7, 365 days for the last seven years. Your prodigal return has made him want to be close to you again, see how you were doing, and see if you had somehow found a way to forgive him. Your appearance at tonight’s party confirmed you must’ve hated him and could never find it in your heart to forgive him. At least, that’s what he thought.

On his late-night drive after dropping off Josie, he went the long way home through the city streets. He ended up at the park where you used to stargaze when you needed to clear your mind, and it was one of those nights for him.

You had taken over every fiber of his being, capturing his heart and holding him hostage. You’ve haunted him every day of his life since you left. At least when the two of you were in school, he could see you in class and the hallways, but once you left, there was no way to keep track of you, that is, until you started posting your college adventures on Instagram. He’d see your stories and how you’d come home to visit your parents and old friends, but of course, you wouldn’t see him. Why would you? He hurt you.

He replays tonight’s events—studying every word, every facial expression, your body language. He’s looking for a way to make it right, a way back into your heart. He doesn’t like it when you’re hurting, doesn’t like it when you’re mad at him, and especially doesn’t like it when you hate him.

He wished he could redo the last seven years and the moment when he decided to kiss Josie. He should've just left Jimin’s and come to yours, confessed his feelings, said how much he’d missed you, maybe even been brave enough to ask if he should go with you to college. Maybe he could’ve saved a lot of heartache for you, himself, and even Josie.

He took a deep breath, exhaling the unease lingering throughout his body. Opening his eyes, he realized the sky finally cleared out. He tucked one hand behind his head, and with the other, his finger traced constellations into the shape of animals—a little game you used to play together.

Thoughts raced through his mind: Do you still have a love for stargazing? Did you find a new spot? Did you have someone to accompany you? Or did you go by yourself? He guessed he’d never find out the answers to his questions.

“You’re coming in late. Or early. Were you with Josie?” Jimin’s sitting at the dining table, sipping on his coffee.

Jungkook shook his head. “Just out.”

“Man, it was good to see ____, right? I haven’t seen her since we graduated. Did you catch up with her?” He shifted in his seat, his foot pushing against the table’s leg, causing his chair to lean back. He licked his lips, suppressing a smile.

“Kind of.” Jungkook shrugged.

The chair made a loud thump when Jimin leaned forward. He set his coffee aside, his eyes narrowed, hands folded. “What happened between you guys, anyway? You were so close in high school, and whenever I ask you, you always change the topic.”

Jungkook looked at his friend, hoping he’d get the drift and move on from this conversation. He wasn’t keen on being bombarded with questions this early in the morning. He pulled out a chair, the legs screeching against the floor as he buried his face in his arms on the table.

“Or you quiet down whenever I bring her up. Well, whatever happened, you should just make out—I mean makeup with her since she’s back,” Jimin suggested, grinning at his mistake.

Jungkook looked up. “I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“See her anyway.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows.

“What? You’ll either sit here and keep wondering what could’ve been, or you can talk to her like an adult and hash things out—get everything out in the open.”

“I hurt her, Jimin.”

“So? Go and apologize.”

“I don’t think she’ll accept it.”

“It’ll be up to her to decide, but at least she’ll hear it from you.” Jimin sipped his coffee again. “And don’t think I haven’t seen you lurking on her Instagram throughout these years.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Your Instagram handle is the alphabet without ‘JK’ in it—so obvious.”

Jungkook's eyes widened. He thought he was careful all these years, hardly posting anything but random food dishes he’s cooked.

Jimin let out a hearty laugh. “Oh—you thought you were slick, huh? I’m quite the detective myself, Jeon.” Jimin pushed his chair out to stand, massaging his friend’s shoulder, shaking his head at him. “It’s time, my friend. Don’t let the past continue to haunt you.”

He lightly tapped his fingers on the table, debating his next move. He knew he had to break things off with Josie once and for all. No more letting her hover, giving into her, or letting her manipulate him. He let her have too many years of him–it was finally time to cut off the head of the snake.

~ reader pov ~

The early morning sun peeked through your curtains, beaming rays of light reflecting off of your mirror, making you sneak a glimpse of the time on your phone.

7:30 AM. It’s too early for anyone to function like an average person.

Propping yourself against your pillows, you begin scrolling through Instagram. You were tagged in one of Jimin’s photos.

The caption read: Look who’s back.

You were tipsy when the photo was taken. You had let Jimin wrap his arm around you, kissing your cheek, as you made a kissy face at Lana, who snapped the picture.

You looked at the amount of likes and comments. Jimin was still popular after high school. Your finger tapped on ‘view all 90 comments’, and then you realized it was just Jimin and Josie arguing back and forth in the comments about you.

Rolling your eyes, you were ready to exit the app, but then you couldn’t help but notice the username of ‘abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz’ in the comment section, also telling Josie to ‘stop.’ You recognized the username because they liked a few of your posts and had seen your stories but never interacted.

You never bothered to look at everyone who followed you, but this username was too creative not to have a look.

When you clicked on the username, their profile picture was a sunset; their bio only had an emoji of a cookie and photos of food dishes. You guessed this person was an aspiring chef. Everything they posted looked scrumptious.

A series of knocks on your door interrupted your train of thought. It’s so early. Who could be here at this hour?

You peered through the peephole, your hand ready to unlock it, until you saw it was none other than Lana. There was a burning feeling in your chest, and your jaw clenched as you debated whether you wanted to let her in. She claimed not to know who Jimin’s roommates were, and you so happened to come to the party where Jeon Jungkook lived? Coincidence? Yeah, right.

“I can hear you breathing on the other side of the door,” she said, moving back to show you she had brought coffee from one of your favorite places.

You unlocked the door knob but left the chain lock intact. Opening the door, you peeked through, staring at the coffee in her hand.

“Leave the coffee, and I shall let you live to see another day.”

Lana rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking–I set you up, but I swear on my mother’s grave that I did not know Jimin and Jungkook were living together.”

You tilted your head and crossed your arms. “You are correct. I believe you set me up, and I won’t be forgiving you.”

Lana sighed, digging through her bag. “I have something else for you too.” She pulled out the very thing you were looking for last night–your blush-pink panties.

You reach out to grab them, but she withdraws, clutching them in her hand. “I did you a favor by swiping them, washing them, and getting your favorite coffee. You’re still not going to open the door for me?”

You huffed, closing the door and unlocking the chain. Crossing your arms, you stood in the way, unwilling to let her in.

She showed off her biggest grin, holding up the tray of coffee and your panties.

You grabbed the coffee before grabbing your panties, leaving the door open if she willingly wanted this to be her last day on earth.

Lana follows you, closing the door and plopping beside you on the couch.

“Anything else you need to get off your chest before you breathe your last breath?” you ask before sipping the mint mojito iced coffee. You forgot how much you loved this drink.

“Yeah. How did the conversation with Jungkook go?”

“I swear to god, you’re addicted to drama.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve me, then I’m all ears,” she beamed from ear to ear, sipping her coffee. “And I also want to make sure you’re okay.” She elbows you before laying her head on your shoulder.

You couldn’t be upset with Lana. You knew she just wanted you to heal from what happened with Jungkook.

Last night felt like a fever dream, bumping into Jungkook. He sprang up on you with no warning. You had no time to prepare yourself—your heart, for what you’d say.

It’s like you had traveled back to that 18-year-old girl watching her best friend repeatedly hurt her. The scene replayed in your mind like an endless film reel–Jungkook and Josie holding hands, finding a letter in your locker, tearfully reading it in your room, and realizing you didn’t have a friend anymore after that day.

“So?”

“He blames me for everything that happened.”

Lana’s eyes widened, and jaw dropped. She put down her coffee, got up, and pulled her hair back. “You better hold me down before I beat his ass.”

You dragged her back beside you. “Stop being so dramatic.”

“How was it your fault?”

“He said he was upset that I was leaving for college and didn’t care to include him in the conversation. Then he went to one of Jimin's parties and kissed Josie, and they started dating.”

Lana’s upper lip raised in annoyance, glancing up at the ceiling. “I'm gonna punch him and his little girlfriend in the face the next time I see them.”

“And apparently, he says they’re not together or whatever.”

She gasped in disbelief. “Not together? She was practically all over him! And he was letting her do it!”

“That’s what I said, but he says it's complicated.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“What am I going to do? Nothing? Absolutely nothing. Avoid them like the plague. What else am I supposed to do?”

“What if he comes looking for you?”

The thought crossed your mind, but you had nothing to say to him. What more did he want from you? Since he blamed you, it’s not like he’d come asking for forgiveness.

“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have moved back.”

“Stop. I'm so happy you’re back. This place is so fucking lame without you.” Lana curled herself into your couch, hooking her arm in yours.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I had to endure all this drama with Jungkook the week I returned.”

“Maybe you should just talk to him and clear the air once and for all,” Lana suggested.

“I don’t know if I can do that without strangling him.”

“I’ll bail you out of jail, don’t worry, or I can help you. We can be cellmates.”

You loved how at least one of your best friends would go to such lengths for you. “God–I don’t wanna be an adult. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“I know, but I bet you’ll feel a million times better if you do.”

You didn’t want to hear the truth but you knew it was what you needed to do. You and Jungkook had unfinished business. Maybe it’s better to just talk to him and close that chapter of your life and finally be able to move on.

You Jiminie 🦗

JAMAN Oh, are you sliding into my DMs?

You 🙄 In your dreams

JAMAN 😂 I’m kidding. What’s up?

You Can I ask you for a favor?

JAMAN Anything for you

You Can I get Jungkook’s number?

JAMAN Huhuhu…the plot thickens

You Oh, stop it. Will you give it to me or not?

JAMAN Idk it depends.

You On?

JAMAN If I get to see more of you

You Jiminie…

JAMAN 😞😞

You You saw me once, that’s not good enough?

JAMAN Let me take you out to dinner. I want to catch up with you.

You Then I’ll never have to see you again? 🙂

JAMAN Sure…

You Fine fine fine Give me his number

You waited a few days to call Jungkook in case Jimin told him he gave you his number. You didn’t want to seem desperate; at least, it would be at your discretion. You’d be more prepared with your heart and your mind.

You sat there, staring at his name, tapping on the screen, and before you knew it, the line began ringing. Ah, fuck.

There’s no going back now.

Hello?

“Hey, Kook. It’s ___.” You can hear him shifting through the line.

Oh, hey. Jungkook cleared his throat. What’s up?

“I wanted to see if you’d be up for coffee or something. If you’re not busy, that is.”

Like today?

You hummed.

Just tell me where and what time.

“Philz Coffee at 2?”

Yeah! I’ll see you then.

You quickly ended the call. Well, the easy part was done. Now, onto the rest.

Even for a Thursday afternoon, the street where the coffee shop was located was rather crowded. You blamed the increased remote jobs and everyone flocking to work from there instead of their homes.

Walking toward the shop, you looked up to see Jungkook sitting outside with two coffees on the table.

He gave a small wave and stood when you approached him. “Hey!” His voice was enthusiastic as he flashed a warm smile, dimple on display. Jungkook gestured for you to sit.

“Do you still like mint mojito iced coffees?”

You chuckled to yourself. You didn’t think he would still remember your coffee order. “Yeah, I do.”

“Cool, figured you still did.”

You gave a half-smile.

Jungkook leaned forward in his seat, eyes on you. “So, why did you want to meet up?”

Your lips thinned before you cleared your throat. “I guess we have some unfinished business.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

You sighed, pulling yourself together to turn to him, looking him in the eye finally. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, talking. His doe eyes sparkled, his boyish charm lingered, and that sweet smile made you swoon.

“I’m gonna say my piece, and then if you have anything to add, go for it.”

He nodded, listening intently to your following words.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “When you stopped talking to me—it hurt, fucked me up for a long time. I convinced myself for years I was over it, but that wasn’t the case at Jimin’s.”

It felt weird to finally say everything that had been building up aloud in front of him.

“It was hard going through college without you. I couldn't talk to you when I wanted, come over when I was bored, and experience new things with you. It was like this big piece of my life was missing, and no one could fill it. Sometimes, a song would come on shuffle that reminded me of you; then I'd get sad because I didn't know your new favorite songs or if you had seen the new Marvel movie.”

Most of all, you missed his presence and how he’d light up when he was excited to show you something or how he’d put a smile on your face when you were down.

“You were my best friend, Kook. I shared everything with you. So it hurt when you felt like you couldn’t talk to me. I would’ve understood if you couldn’t be friends with me because of Josie—I mean, it would’ve sucked big time, but I would never want you to feel like you can’t be honest with me.”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a bit before responding. “I’m sorry about what happened. I was hurting too, and I guess I wanted you to hurt too.”

“Well, it worked.” You let out a sad chuckle; your hand began playing nervously with the coffee cup before you.

He looks at you, scanning your face. “This might not mean anything now, but I know you. I know what songs you like, movies you watched, what made you sad and happy.”

Your gaze slowly flicked to his, your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I don’t want to sound like a creep or anything, but I’ve been following you on Instagram.”

“You have an Instagram account?”

“Uh, yeah. I just don’t post my face or anything.” He pulled out his phone to show you.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my god. You’re alphabet boy?”

“Alphabet boy?” Jungkook’s forehead furrowed.

As soon as he said that, you began to piece everything together. So he was on social media. He was just good at hiding it.

“So, you’ve been keeping up with everything I’ve been doing?”

“You were my best friend. I missed you and wanted to know what your life was like.”

You didn’t know how to process this information. You had been lurking on Instagram, trying to get a glimpse of Jungkook, but after all these years, he was trying to keep a part of you with him.

“Just because you’ve liked my posts or watched my stories doesn’t mean you know me.”

He nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I don’t, but I would like to get to know you again.”

“What about Josie? What is she going to think?” You didn’t want to get in the way of whatever they had going on.

“I’ve tried breaking up with her multiple times, and she keeps on coming back, and I’m pretty dumb for letting her back in. I think we’ve just gotten into that rhythm where we’ve been comfortable with each other that it’s hard to let it go, you know?”

You chuckled to yourself. He was never really good at speaking up, was he?

He looks at you. “Do you think we can start over?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know. I—I don’t think I can lose you as a friend again.”

“You won’t,” he responded immediately.

You liked how sure he was of himself. That nothing or no one could get in the way of a new friendship again. But with Josie still in the picture, you didn’t think it would be as easy as he was making it seem.

A car drives by, music playing loudly from their speakers. It stopped the conversation, giving you time to think.

A part of you would love to be friends again, and the other part was ready to let go and start fresh. You weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had grown up, lived, and loved a little, and after finally getting to speak everything you’ve held onto—you were ready to close that chapter you had kept open for so long.

Jungkook waved his hand, calling out to you.

“Hmm?”

“What happens now?”

You shrugged, and your mouth twisted to the side. “I don’t know, Kook. How about we just take it one day at a time? And I don’t mean like we talk every day or something, but if we see each other, we’ll be able to say ‘hi.’”

Jungkook nodded. “Baby steps.”

“Right. Baby steps.”

“I can do that.”

JAMAN Dinner. Friday. 6 PM.

You Why, hello, Jimin.

JAMAN Right, hi. Dinner. Friday. 6 PM. Be there.

You You didn’t tell me where.

JAMAN My place.

You Is Jungkook going to be there?

JAMAN No, he’s outta town. Going somewhere with Josie.

You tut. Of course, he hasn’t broken it off with Josie. Why would he? No one changes within a week, right?

You Okay, fine. See you on Friday. Can I bring anything?

JAMAN Just yourself 😘

Friday.

JAMAN Hey, I’m running late from work. But make yourself at home! I’m going to grab some food on the way back, too.

You Am I supposed to break in?

JAMAN Oh, you silly girl. The code is 0613.

You ‘Kay, see you soon.

You couldn’t believe you agreed to come to Jimin’s place for dinner. Meeting up somewhere would’ve been safer if you bumped into Jungkook again. But you two did decide to take baby steps.

Keying in the code, you stepped in, eyes wandering around the house. Surprisingly, it was well-kept. No throw pillow or blanket is out of place. All the coasters were neatly lined up. Even the house plants were flourishing.

You closed the door, then heard a shatter of glass hitting the ground along with a ‘fuck’. You didn’t see any cars outside when you arrived. Maybe Jimin was dropped off.

“Hello? Jimin?”

You walked into the kitchen, peering around the corner, and saw someone’s head bobbing up and down.

“Kook?”

He looked up with doe eyes, and his jaw opened. “Oh—hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “I live here,” he said slowly, sweeping the glass in a dustpan.

“Yes, I know that. But where’s Jimin?”

“Jimin’s at work. He asked me to make dinner.”

You huffed, throwing your head back. “Did you plan this?”

“Plan what?”

“This. Us. Dinner.”

“What? No. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket.

JAMAN Oh, hey, friend. I can’t make it to dinner. Guess you’ll just have to eat with Kook. 😘😘

You I’M GONNA BLOCK YOU PARK JIMIN

JAMAN 😘 I love you.

“I’m—just going to go. See you later, Kook,” you said, turning around to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Bye, Kook.”

“Why don’t you stay? I already made dinner and don’t want it to go to waste.”

You stopped in your tracks. Whatever he made smelled good.

He set down the dustpan and walked over to you. “Come on. It’s just dinner.”

You turned back to him, scanning him from head to toe. Why did he have to look so boyfriend in his all-black outfit and matching baseball hat?

You pointed your chin to the ground, staring at him. “Just dinner.”

✨ read part three ✨

[yanderecrazysie]

Hello there, I just read that you do ouran high school host club yandere request. I just love that anime it reminds me of my childhood. And I love your work too especially the angsty cheater ones, they’re my favorites.

So actually going to the request: Yandere Tamaki x fiancé reader but Tamaki is neglectful of them and cheats on them with Haru (angst heaven). Basically Tamaki and Reader where engaged when they were children by their wealthy parents . Tamaki hated this and by extension he hated the reader too. Despite the reader trying to be to be the perfect fiancé and supports him from the sidelines, the reader even make sure that the mansion runs smoothly and even learned how to cook his favorite food and cater to his whims. Tamaki still being blinded by his distaste for the arrange marriage carelessly ignores all of reader’s hardwork and flirts with every woman in the host club. Then comes Haru and Tamaki just falls in love and in the back of his head, what better way to get back at his father than to marry a commoner. Reader finally having enough of Tamaki’s cheating and intentionally humiliating them in public, rebels against their parents and cancel the engagement. The reader just leaves Tamaki behind and goes into the countryside to live a peaceful life.. but surprised Tamaki goes full on delusional Yandere, he misses the reader’s devotion to him and wants to continue on with the marriage. When reader left Tamaki felt empty and he started to realize his mistake, He tracks reader down to beg for their forgiveness and so that they can get married as intended. Tamaki still think of you as his fiancé and he doesn’t realize that reader doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore.

Sorry for the long request, I just got excited when I found out that you write for Ouran High school host club. Thanks for reading!

My first OHSHC request!! Yay!! And it's okay, it’s always nice to have a good plot to work with!

Title: Blind

Pairings: Tamaki Suoh x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes

Summary: Tamaki’s behavior proves too much for his fiance.

Part 2: here

blind

/verb/

deprive (someone) of understanding, judgment, or perception:

Sometimes, you wished Tamaki would just open up his eyes and see you. You, and not the engagement your families had forced upon you both.

You could tell from day one that Tamaki hated the idea and, subsequently, hated you for representing the ball and chain that attached itself to his ankle. You couldn’t blame him for being angry that his future freedom had been taken away, but you wished he wouldn’t blame you for it.

You weren’t much happier than him at first, but you decided to make the best of it. Tamaki was handsome, you could even appreciate that when you both were children forced to play together. He also had a soft side that you rarely got to see under all the silly dramatics. If only you could unlock that part of him, surely you both could be happy!

Then the host club started.

It’s easy to smile and say that you aren’t bothered, but it’s another thing to actually not be bothered with your fiance flirting with girls all the time. You could never help the twisting of jealousy in your gut anytime you heard or saw anything to do with the host club.

You’d tried to visit before. Make the best of things. But he’d blacklisted you as a customer, said with a careless tone that maybe you’d prefer one of the other boys. That stung.

“Make the best of it” became a mantra in your head, a desperate goal and coping method all in one. Eventually, Tamaki would either come to love you or accept that his future was predetermined by a piece of paper with his father’s signature. 

Did you want a potentially loveless marriage? No, of course not. But that’s what happened to most people of your stature, so it wasn’t a surprise. If you could just make the best of your situation, you could be happy. Probably.

The changes in Tamaki really started when a new boy joined the club. You could tell right away that he was naturally a girl, but wouldn’t out him to the school if that’s what he chose as his path. You began to suspect that Tamaki knew this truth as well, because he always seemed so flustered around the boy.

Haruhi. You numbly repeated his name in your head. Even in the beginning, you knew, this relationship would be the downfall of your own.

Numbness overtook you as you caught the pair kissing and holding hands, looking happy and carefree, even outside of the club where there were no requirements for them to act like a cute couple or something.

They were trying to be secretive and, at first, you wondered how you were the only one catching them in the act. Then, it hit you like a speeding train.

Tamaki wanted you to see.

Your daily trips to the mansion were mostly in lonely silence. You cleaned the place like his maids probably should, made him his favorite meals, ran hot baths for him, and sometimes left him notes around the house to boost his self-esteem and cheer him up.

As time went on, it began to feel like empty actions. Duties without reward or even so much as acknowledgment. Things you did just because that tiny voice still cried “Make the best of everything!”

Well, you were getting sick of that voice. That hapless fool inside your head that didn’t seem to realize that things were speeding out of control. How could you make the best of anything, when he continually gave you nothing to work with.

You cried as you did those little things- what had once felt like happy little jobs became heavy chores that you couldn’t figure out why you continued. The tears blurred your eyes as you made each gift for Tamaki- gifts that would no doubt be cast aside and forgotten.

What was the point?

When Tamaki called a crowd together in the school’s entrance hall, standing atop one of the highest steps with his hands intertwined with Haruhi, you knew it was all over.

“Haruhi is actually a girl- and she and I have started dating!” His eyes seemed to dart to yours to gauge your reaction, but you didn’t dare show anything on your face. You were still a regal person, determined to not put your family’s name to shame.

“What? Is that true, Haruhi?” One of the girls in the crowd shrieked.

You didn’t need Haruhi’s answer nor the shy smile on her face to confirm the truth. You’d already known well before that this was the future you’d been helplessly barreling towards.

The crowd had mixed reactions. Some people were supportive and found the couple cute, others were jealous of Haruhi, and many people were confused on the whole matter. Those were the ones whose words shot like daggers into your heart.

“Doesn’t Tamaki have a fiance?”

“What will his father think?”

“Does that mean his engagement is canceled?”

Struggling not to break down, you pushed your way through the crowd, looking for an escape. The crowd was too thick and it was quickly too late.

You broke down crying, your large tears blinding you as little hiccups left your lips. Finally, the sea of people parted and you ran through it. You risked one look at Tamaki and were upset to see him looking concerned. How dare he be concerned when he was the one that hurt you?

You skipped your classes, opting instead to head straight home and confront your parents. The moment you were in front of them both, you broke down once more. They wanted to know who’d hurt you right away and, when your story of Tamaki was revealed, they vowed to rip the contract into little pieces.

They let you stay home the next few days. If you could, you’d stay home forever. How could you show your face after you’d been humiliated and cried like that in front of everyone?

You focused your thoughts and feelings into gardening. Today you cut the stems of flowers and placing them into your basket before bringing them up to the house. The chores you did were fit for the family’s gardener, but he was on vacation and you needed something to distract yourself with.

You heard your name called. Furrowing your brow, you raised your head and shielded your eyes against the sun. Was that…?

It was, a certain blonde boy was speeding towards you at the speed of light. Had he jumped the tall fence or broken the gate’s lock? Either method was concerning, to say the least.

You let out a feeble “hey!” when he kicked up some of the flowers in his path to you, but you were more afraid of what he had to say than of losing a couple of flowers.

Finally, he stopped in front of you and dropped to his knees. You stood, watching in shock as he kneeled in the dirt, in a motion that you’d expect a man begging the queen to spare his life.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n). I- I was so stupid, so blind! I didn’t know how much I’d miss you when you were gone. Please come back, please! I’ll do anything!”

You stared at him in shock, “What about Haruhi?”

The man raised his head, his eyes glazed over as they met yours, “I took care of her.”

It wasn’t so much the words he said, as it was the chilling, lifeless tone in which he said it. You took a step back, nearly tripping over the small mound of dirt behind you.

“What did you do to her?” Your voice came out shaky and unsure. Tamaki would never hurt someone, would he? That thought was laughable, wasn’t it?

Tamaki grasped your ankles and began to cry, looking more pathetic than you could have ever imagined him. You never thought that Tamaki would ever beg on his knees to anyone, much less you.

“I’ll do anything.” Tamaki murmured. Somehow you knew.

He would definitely hurt someone, if they got in his way.

[the-cards-she-wont-show]

TTPD Twin Storylines weaved together & double meanings throughout! ✌️👯‍♀️💕

Attention ALL Swifties (particularly Gaylors) and associates of the Tortured Poets department

PLEASE READ!! (and read with an open mind!!)🤍

Listening to the amazing TTPD on repeat this past week, I am certain that I have made an important discovery that I haven't seen talked about anywhere else yet and would like to get the coversation going, in hopes that Taylor will see that we are all finally listening to her! I'm still piecing everything together, as there is so much to unravel and am far from calling myself an expert on her exact timelines and dates, so am looking forward to hearing thoughts from others that are more knowledgable in her history.

I have been of the belief for a while now that Mastermind and Dear Reader were foretelling of her future, and also that the album title had a double meaning (evidenced by the lack of apostrophe in 'poets'). That the tortured poet would be departing. Note that I am also a believer that she has been closeted by those closest to her and is preparing to ruin her name and perceived reputation, give up the false public version of herself and come into her own true self. Everything as we know it will be destroyed and it is all playing out now, coming together as part of her plan.

Falling in line with all of the two's - the double album, the double meaning in the album name, the two sides of taylor etc, I have found that there are two intertwining stories told throughout her tracklist, AND that all songs also have a double meaning!! None of which are about the perceived muses of Travis, Matty or Joe. The 'evidence' for those relationships are all red herrings (for example 'putting narcotics into all of my songs' - but only in the songs with obvious reference to her beards), to make it seem ambiguous and open to interpretation of who the songs may be about, which is seen often throughout her discography. She uses an incredible amount of metaphors and we must look beyond those to decipher her lyrics - do not take anything at face level with Taylor. Most should realise that she is so much smarter than making obvious songs about whichever male muse she is 'dating' at the time. She has always played into that public view to cover her true self. Many songs have themes of secret and hidden love, which juxtaposes with the public 'relationships' she is seen as having.

She tells us in 'The Manuscript' that "lookin' backwards might be the only way to move forward". Therefore we must listen to TTPD in reverse, from track 31 (13 reversed!) to track 1. I believe The Manuscript also acts as a bookend for both of her stories and should be listened to as a closer after the last song of the story 'Fortnight' ends, to get a complete picture. Once we have listened to the album in reverse order, can we see so plainly that each song tells a different story of a period/situation/muse/love/heartbreak in her life - beginning at her parents meeting in The Manuscript, to current day. I think the songs may also actually have a sister song from the corresponding album/period in time, with similar sound, lyrics or theme that connects them. I believe that each song also has a double meaning and can be interpreted as messages to her fans about things that have happened to her over the years or that are about to happen, and she is trying to communicate her feelings of being trapped, which is honestly so heartbreaking. Many relate to her being caged and forced to hide her true self, in particular by one person closest to her - her father. It is devastating to listen to.

The really brilliant part I discovered next, is that The Anthology tracks also have another hidden storyline being told which intertwines and intersects in the exact right place to fit in with her life story. It includes all of the "THE" songs and is in reverse order from the parallel life story and vinyl variants order of issue (but chronological track list order).

The Tortured Poets Department

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

The Alchemy

The Black Dog

The Albatross

The Prophecy

The Bolter

The Manuscript

Rather than presenting my interpretation of the timeline and each story told in every song, I urge everyone to listen to both stories, in these exact orders, with an open mind as to what she could possibly be describing! My mind was completely blown when I figured this out!! Her mind is incredible, there is no other way to describe the album, other than a masterpiece! I feel so much for the pain she has gone through. This album explains her feelings and reasons for hiding her true self over the years for any fans that will inevitably be feeling upset and deceived. We all need to show compassion for everything Taylor has sacrificed and give her what she needs. She truly deserves love, honesty, happiness and peace. ✌️💜

I'm in the process of creating a document trying to piece all of the hidden connections together just to wrap my head around this amazing body of work, so may possibly link this when I have it completed, otherwise I will add it to this post for anyone that might be interested.

I have a couple of extra personal thoughts, theories and hopes for anyone still reading…

The manuscript of her life story may possibly be the manuscript for a future book/film.

I think one meaning of "Fortnight" is a foretelling message to the fans that havent been noticing any of her many hair pin drops - she has been trying to get the message across but they aren't listening. For the fans she loses when she comes out - she touched them with this album for only a fortnight, before she lost them. She loves the fans but staying in the closet is ruining her life. I think something big could be happening a fortnight after release? Friday 3rd May is International Sun Day. ☀️ Karlie Kloss was always 'sunshine' to Taylor. According to Karlie, their first meeting was at the 2011 Met Gala on May 2, however, there is a possibility that they could have met at the afterparty - after midnight, making the anniversary May 3! 2024 Met Gala is a few days later, could they both make an appearance? If nothing big occurs, perhaps some seeds of doubt will be planted on the 3rd? Or.. It could also be a surprise rep TV (with or without Karma and Debut - surprise triple drop?) with wlw vault tracks?! Who really knows.. I honestly have no idea, but whatever happens, I know Taylor has it all meticulously planned out and everything will happen when it is supposed to.

Taylor is chairman of the Tortured Poets department - the leader of the mass coming out we are about to see. As Chely Wright put - 'we need someone at the top' to come out and pave the way for others to do the same, and to stop the forced closeting in the celebrity world. I think Travis and the majority of her former beards are also queer and there will be many more 'tortured poets' that will join 'the department'.

Karma will be album 1 (TS12) in the 3,2,1 countdown, TS13 is 0 - the album in which she gets all of her full colour back, reclaims her glitter gel pens and finally can sing her truth proudly! She has destroyed her own name and reputation, burnt down the lover house and all her former selves.

Last of all, PLEASE BE KIND! If anyone has made it to the end of this and doesnt agree, I'd love for you to have a listen to the songs in the orders above before commenting. If not, lets just agree to disagree! We all have our own personal takes on Taylor's lyricism and I would never dream of being unkind to another just for having a difference of opinion. 🫶

For Taylor - if you somehow happen to see this - please know you are truly a mastermind, you are loved and we've got you!

🌈💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛🌈

❤️ gerimegs

[cybrsan]

ATEEZ as Benders

Masterlist | A/N: A glimpse into each member and their roles in my upcoming ATLA-inspired, Wooyoung x reader fic for the second part of my title track series. Will most likely end up writing a fic for each member and turning this into a sub-series of its own. Let me know what you think! Edit: As of 11/11/23, this has been turned into a series. Check out the masterlist here.

Hongjoong

Element: Fire

Occupation: Diplomat, Strategist

Personality: Intense, strong-willed, passionate, loyal, creative, intelligent, charismatic

Fun Fact: Hongjoong, despite being young, has become one of the government officials with the best reputation. He is incredibly persuasive and cunning, and he uses his skills to enact the will of the people and do his best for the good of the Fire Nation. He has a lot of secret admirers, often finding chocolates and other gifts in his office, but don't mention that to him or he'll get shy.

Seonghwa

Element: Water

Occupation: Artisan

Personality: Sensitive, nurturing, perfectionist, reliable, open-minded, adaptable, empathetic

Fun Fact: Seonghwa is known to make some of the most beautiful carvings and jewelry in the entire Water Tribe. All benders, no matter what nation they're from, would love to own one of his pieces. But secretly, he loves to make toys for kids to play with and prefers that to his main job.

Yunho

Element: Air

Occupation: Acrobat

Personality: Jovial, spontaneous, free-spirited, romantic, kind, helpful

Fun Fact: Yunho often tours the four nations with his troupe, and his solo act has become a favorite amongst children and adults alike. What makes his routine even more impressive is that he has an incredible mastery over his bending, and performs without ever touching the ground. Incredibly charismatic and entrancing to watch, his performance will capture both your attention and your heart.

Yeosang

Element: Air

Occupation: Meditative Guide

Personality: Unique, endearing, positive, dreamy, free-spirited, peaceful

Fun Fact: People often find Yeosang to be in his own world, a step or two behind everyone else. It makes it hard to believe that he's one of the best meditative guides hailing from the Air Nomads, helping troubled souls find their inner peace through deep and intense focus. Truthfully, he's aware of everything that's going on but only likes to pay attention to the things that really matter to him.

San

Element: Fire

Occupation: Firebending Instructor, Tactician

Personality: Passionate, unpredictable, alluring, strong-willed, independent, principled

Fun Fact: San is one of the best firebenders in the nation, having mastered the technique of blue lightning. People would pay unspeakable amounts of money to be taught by him, but he only teaches those without the means to compensate him, dedicating his time to the underprivileged. He gives free classes at the orphanage his father runs, while he gets his money from the government, advising military leaders on the most effective ways to deploy firebenders and utilize their bending skills in combat.

Mingi

Element: Earth

Occupation: Architect

Personality: Patient, conciliatory, persistent, logical, diligent, complex, gentle

Fun Fact: Mingi loves creating things, but he also finds himself wanting to leave a positive impact on the people and environments around him. That's why, when designing any sort of structure, he taps into the vibrations of the earth, seeking its guidance to foster a harmonious connection between the building and its surroundings. He believes that humans and the earth can live together in harmony, strengthening and taking care of one another.

Wooyoung

Element: Water

Occupation: Healer

Personality: Enigmatic, sensitive, giving, comforting, loving, altruistic, committed

Fun Fact: Wooyoung has mastered a unique form of healing that he calls "Wavesong" where, through singing and dancing, he can project vibrations through water that promote healing within wounded individuals, allowing him to help not only their bodies but their minds. People believe this is because he is moon-blessed, a child born under the Siren Moon that only rises once every 88 years. Wooyoung lets them believe that, not wanting to reveal that his true "blessing" is having prophetic dreams that tend to get him in more trouble than they're worth.

Jongho

Element: Fire

Occupation: Ceremonial Performer

Personality: Courageous, idealistic, adventurous, passionate, independent, powerful, dynamic

Fun Fact: When Jongho isn't participating in a ceremony or ritual, he often busks on the streets of the capital, entertaining passersby for fun. If you manage to see him, either in an official or unofficial capacity, you should consider yourself lucky. Whether it's due to his bending or simply his natural talent, his voice seems to imbue the listener with a feeling of warmth and a nostalgic longing for home.

[chrollohearttags]

This is so corny but imagine musician eren putting headphone around the pregnant belly of y/n and putting his song for his unborn baby to listen 🫢😭🥹

stoppp, this is literally the cutest fricking thing I’ve ever heard! 🥹 also, happy Father’s Day.

because imagine eren in the middle of working at his home studio, downstairs like he had done when he didn’t have guests over. Lately, he had been completing projects there to keep an eye on you as you had just neared your second trimester. Beginning to show a little more and experience a lot more symptoms that came along with being pregnant. So naturally, his guard was up. But one day, you decided to pay him a visit with a snack and your budding belly in tow. “Let’s go see what daddy’s up to.” Whispering softly to your unborn bundle of joy as you turn the knob. Cracking it open, you can hear the thudding sounds of trap instrumentals and his voice slowly on the beat but he immediately stops it when he notices you coming in. “Hey, you two. Coming to see me?” Becoming practically ecstatic at the sight of you waddling in with your little sundress and stomach protruding from underneath it. Your curls bunched underneath a bonnet and a pair of house slippers on your swollen feet. Because of that, he had rearranged his once sacred lair to accommodate his princess and little royalty inside of you. “Of course. We wanted to hear the new song. It sounds so good.” Muttering as he went to pull the futon closer towards his desk so that you could take a seat. Normally, he wouldn’t allow anyone to intrude on his work. It was precious to him and he didn’t like anyone interrupting that time. But for you and the little one, he obviously made an exception. Especially when he had a huge surprise awaiting the two of you.

“That one? That’s just something I’ve been messing around with. I actually had another one I wanted you to hear.”

he’d turn to make a a couple of clicks on his keyboard, navigating the mouse across the screen to a track titled ‘love letter’. You were a bit curious as to what the song could possibly be about, but then he’d reach over and retrieve two sets of headphones. One for you and the other? “For you, angel..” cooing to the baby as he carefully secured the ear cushions around your stomach. Once the two of you were set, Eren then rolled back over to the computer, excited to share his latest creation. A song titled ‘Love Letter’. Once he pressed play, he’d wait patiently to see your reaction. The instrumental would begin with a few piano notes and then…

“Wait…”

“Shh..just listen.”

that’s when the faint thumping of a heartbeat and the soft sounds of a lullaby began playing. The next thing that followed was a soft instrumental composed of piano and a melody of his voice. He’d start by rapping..about how lonely he was before he met you. But once you came along, it changed everything. He then went on to express his gratitude for not only loving him unconditionally but giving him his first child. As you listened on, you began to nod your head and tear up, cupping a hand over your mouth as you took in the beautiful beats and lyricism of your husband’s music. What was even more so special was how he held your hand and glared at you as if you were a precious flower. ‘I should’ve been dead but you saved me, now you got my last name, chain and my baby.’

never had someone so openly and shamelessly poured their heart out to you. Laying himself bare and being completely vulnerable. By the time the song finished, you were an absolute wreck..whether it was from the hormones or just being overwhelmed with love and adoration. Either way, you couldn’t help but to leap into Eren’s arms and hug him.

“I love you, princess.” Kissing your temple as hd cradled you in a tight hug.

and I love you too, little angel. Can’t wait to meet you..

[teag-writes]

Teachers Pet

guess who's back!! me!! yay!! umm another request from my pookie bear @etherealhozier so thank her for this one! (also apologies for the unoriginal ass title, i couldnt think of anything else so yeah!!)

cw: age gap (20 sumthing years idk i cant do math!), pet names, thigh riding, cumming on leg (yum), i think thats it!!

You knew from a small age you wanted to catch “bad guys” for a living. Which is why immediately after you graduated high school, you had already enrolled in one of the criminal behavioural classes at the college you attended, as one of your main classes.  

After about a month of being at your university, you had settled in quite nicely as you got to know all of your teachers and other classmates. Now the love for criminal activity and all things crime being the main reason you were attending college, you promised yourself that you wouldn’t let anything get in your way. 

Until you saw him. Dr. Reid, or more formally known as the FBI agent turned professor, was the one who taught you and everyone else all about the interesting subject. He was tall, slender and had dark hair, and even darker eyes like he was hiding something. The way he talked so passionately about his life in the BAU made your stomach swirl. 

You knew this was completely wrong, having a crush on a man who was at least in his mid 40s, while you were in your early 20s. It almost disgusted you, the things you thought of letting him do to you, bending you over and smack-

“(Y/n). Are you paying attention?” A stern but quiet voice interrupted your daydreams as you looked at the man in front of you. 

“Yes sir. Sorry.” You said embarrassed. If he could read minds, you’d sure as hell be in a lot of trouble. 

He pursed his lips at you, forming a smile and giving you a nod and continued teaching. You groaned quietly, knowing this would be a long semester. 

—————————

After class, you’d packed your things up and were about to head off to your dorm for study time, when you were halted by a call of your name. 

“(Y/n). Can I speak to you for a moment?” Your professor had caught you red handed and you knew you were done for as you walked over to his desk, after he shut the door. 

“Your attention span has been decreasing lately. Is everything at home okay? Anyone bothering you?” He seemed genuinely concerned for you as he asked you. 

“No sir. Everything’s fine. I’m just… it’s hard to pay attention in class.” Your tone slipped out more seductive than it should’ve and you knew damn well what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t care less. Spencer swallowed harshly, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as you spoke to him. 

“Oh? Why’s that (y/n)? I’m not boring you, am I?” He said with a raspy laugh that made your stomach flip. 

“No, not at all sir. If anything,” you said looking him up and down. “It’s quite the opposite.” 

You were so nervous with what you were doing right now that you felt like throwing up. You took a step closer to the man in front of you and looked at him. 

“No. Stop.” He whispered out. “This is utterly inappropriate and so, so wrong.” He stopped you in your tracks and you started at him with embarrassment and guilt. 

“Shit, I’m… I’m gonna go.” You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out the door, Spencer yelling after you but you didn’t turn back. 

That night in your dorm, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened as you got so frustrated with yourself. But within a few seconds, an idea popped into your head. If he really wanted you, you’d have to make him show you. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

—————————

The next day for class, you’d almost forgotten about what had happened when you remembered your plan. Make him want you. You thought to yourself if this was really what you wanted to do, yet you went through with the plan. You jumped out of your current skirt and replaced it with another, shorter, smaller one as you did the same with your shirt. You popped open the first few buttons and let your hair fall loosely over your shoulders, and decided to go with a dark red lipstick, with well as a pair of heels as you walked to class. 

Everyone had their eyes on you. Teachers, students, hell, everyone was gawking at you in awe. Whispers of shock fled peoples mouths as you walked into class and took a seat. You sat front row, as you always do, and waited for class to begin. The moment Spencer walked in, you stopped breathing, remembering that this was all for him. 

“Good morning class…” Spencer trailed off of his sentence as he saw you, and let out a choked cough.  “Pardon me, I must’ve had something in my throat. Please take out your notebooks, we will be talking notes today.” The whole entire time Spencer was speaking, he didn’t take his eyes off you once. And that continued throughout the whole lesson. 

By the time class was done, everyone had made their way out as you remained last again, trying to pack up quickly when an angry seeming voice halted you once again. 

“(Y/n). We need to talk.” Spencer didn’t seem impressed at all, but that only filled you with more lust. You gave him a warm, innocent smile and sat back down as he closed his door again. 

“Is something wrong, Dr?” You batted your eyelashes at Spencer and you hated every second of it, but you needed him. 

“Don’t call me that.” He had a furious look on his face, as he stepped closer towards you. “What’s going on with you today? The makeup and clothes, I mean.” 

You playfully spoke back to him as he asked you a question. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He groaned as you spoke to him, tipping his head back slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me, (y/n). You know what you’re doing.” 

He lunged forward to you and grabbed your wrist, hard but not too hard. 

“Is it working, Dr?” You purred back at him, and that only made things worse as he gently put his hand around your neck. 

“Yes. Yes it is, (y/n). Your little “whore” getup makes me sick. God, you don’t know what you do to me.” He said growling back at you. As he continued his grip on your neck, another hand made its way down to your legs and stopped at your heat. 

“Fucking soaked. Bet you’ve thought about this hm? Me pinning you against this wall and fucking you raw?” 

You moaned at his harsh, lustful words as he continued circling your clit through your panties. His grip tightened when you didn’t answer, making you squeal loudly. 

“Answer me. Have you thought about this, (y/n)? 

“Yes.” Was all you managed to breathe out. 

“Atta girl.” He praised you as he let go of your neck, sitting back down his desk chair. You stared at him with confusion, not knowing what to do. 

“C’mere.” He patted his thigh and motioned you to come sit on his lap. You immediately complied, straddling yourself right over his bulge, making you gasp. 

“If you want this so bad, you’ll get off on my thigh while I grade these papers.” He cooed gently at you, moving the hair out of your face. The angry man that was there seconds ago, was now gone. You whimpered at his command, as you knew you were going to have to work for it. 

“I know baby, I know. You’ll be okay.” He praised softly, as he leaned in for a kiss. You let his tongue swipe yours, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. He pulled apart from the kiss and you groaned at the loss of contact. 

“I know you wanted me to fuck you, but there’s consequences when you come into my office dressed like that. I’m being nice and at least letting you get off, hm? Such a good girl.” 

You couldn’t even be mad at him, his sweet tone had taken complete control over you. You started moving your hips against his leg, slowly and painfully, eliciting a moan from your lips that only made him twitch under you. You slowly started to speed up your movements, already feeling your muscles spasm over his cock. His hands made their way from the papers on his desk to your hips, moving them expertly against his leg. He saw that you were getting tired, so he naturally bucked his leg repeatedly into your wet cunt. 

The familiar coil in your stomach began to break apart and you came tortuously hard on his leg with a loud moan, not caring if anyone heard. He bucked his leg into you again, riding you through your orgasm as you let out sweet little whimpers. 

“Shh shh, I’ve got you baby. It’s okay. Good girl.” All the little praises he mumbled to you made you needy enough to come again, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sit there with your head on his shoulder, all fucked out because of him. 

[int-writersmind]

The Quid Pro Quo

Paring: College! Peter Parker x Reader (reader's an English major)

Summary: On a rainy night, sparks fly when the two of you exchange notes on each others classwork.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff

authors note: hey, I might be a recent college graduate, doesn't mean everything is accurate ok? 🤭

Light rain taps against the window of Empire State University's library windows. You find yourself alone on the second floor at a table, wanting to tear your hair out over your Physics homework.

It was Friday night, the library was practically empty since most students were out partying or at the very least not thinking about their classwork. You, on the other hand, had made a deal with a fellow student to help one another on each’s work, a classic quid pro quo. You, an English major, were gonna exchange helpful notes on your classmate's Frankenstein paper that was due Monday, and he, in return, would help you prepare for your Physics test the following Tuesday. It was a great idea, brilliant even, if only Peter Parker weren’t running late. 

You check your phone one more time before standing up and stretching your legs. You walk over to the big gothic looking window your table was next to, glancing at the rain smacking into the glass.

God, there were so many things you could have been doing right now instead of standing here like a young wife waiting for her husband to return from the sea. Like curling up with a nice book, with a hot cup of your favorite beverage, getting lost in whatever world and-

“Sorry I’m late!” came a familiar voice.

You turn and see that Peter Parker had decided to finally make an appearance after all. With your arms crossed, you watch as he quickly runs up the steps, tripping and almost falling while doing so. “I was starting to think you died or something.” You say quite sarcastically.

“Oh much worse,” Peter says, “Subway delays.” As you return to your seat, Peter sits on the other side, quickly taking out his own laptop and notebook. “What should we start on?”

“I don’t know if I can stand anymore Physics right now,” You glance at your phone,  A Daily Bugle notification on top: Spider-Man v Lizard! Havoc on the A-Line!. You swipe it away, maybe it was better to go straight to the dorms after this. “Let’s just start on this Frankenstein paper since it’s much more open-ended.”

“Boo, I hate open ended,” Peter turns on his laptop, “At least with science everything can be quantified.”

“What about theories huh?”

“Theories can be backed up or disproven! English, it’s-it’s sooo subjective.” Peter sighs, “What do you mean the blue curtains represent depression! I have blue curtains, but not because I’m depressed but because they were on sale!”

“Ha-ha, like I haven’t heard that before” You shake your head and roll your eyes, “So, let’s see what you have. Wait, maybe it’s better if I-” You get up from your seat and walk over to sit on the chair next to Peter. “That’s better, now we can look at the screen together.”

Peter places one arm on the back of your chair, no thought really behind it. You pause for a moment before fake coughing, re-focusing on the screen in front of you.

 Peter was one year older and the two of you met at an English course, Literature by Women, a gen-ed for him but a required class for you. You got to know each other the first week of the semester when your Professor assigned partner work to go through a set of poems. Ever since then the two of you would occasionally text each other with simple questions about class. That’s when you found out Peter was in a higher track for Physics and became an absolute annoyance when it came to questions. But Peter always lent a hand and never with any bitterness. 

“You ok?” Peter asks.

You look at Peter whose face reads concern, “Yeah, just a little tired that’s all. Long day.” You turn back to the screen glancing at the title and opening lines of Peter’s paper.

“Ugh same,” groans Peter, “I got so caught up with something, I forgot to eat lunch”

“Oh, I think I have something.” You stop a few lines into the first paragraph, reaching over the table to grab your bag on top, you dig inside until you find half of a sandwich that you bought earlier. “Here, I didn’t know this sandwich had tomatoes and I just find them disgusting.” You make a face of disgust that causes a small laugh to come from Peter.

“You know you can always just take the tomatoes off right?”

“What about the tomato juices?” You say, “The remnant of the tomato never goes away!” You make a huge swapping gesture, “Do you want the damn sandwich or not?”

He puts his hands up in fake surrender, “Ok, ok.”

Peter takes his arm off the back of your chair scooting closer to the table before digging into the sandwich. You settle into reading Peter’s paper about the ethics of Dr. Frankenstein. 

~

“Ok…ok, what you have so far it’s…”

“Horrible..terrible–” Peter sighs.

You turn and gently smack Peter on the arm, “Oh shut up,” You say, “It’s a good foundation, clear thesis, your paragraphs for the most part support it–”

“But…”

“But,” You widen your eyes and make a face. “You focus too much on the actual science of everything going on, focus more on the emotional. Victor uses the Creature for his own selfish desire not only for scientific exploration.”

“You got all of that from my paper?”

“More or less,” You turn your attention back to the computer screen, scrolling over the paper again. “See, anyone can write a thorough paper if they put their mind to it.”

“And…anyone can pass Physics if they put their mind to it as well. Let’s switch topics.”

“Oh, god no,” You say. “The greatest weakness of English majors…Science!”

You lean back as if you were fake fainting, a little too far back as you almost tip over in your seat, but Peter catches your arm just in time. “Woah there Faint-y, can lose you yet.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Peter closes his laptop, and grabs his notebook, you hand him your Professor given study guide. Peter glances at the document, nodding and shaking his head at certain terms. “Ok little English major, time to blow your mind with some science!”

“Certainly, but not in the way you're imagining.”

Peter just rolls his eyes and points to one of the first lines in the study guide that you're underlining and adding several question marks to. “Let’s start here.”

Your little tipping incident sent your chair slightly further away from Peter’s than earlier. With the underside of his hand, he pulls your chair, and you, closer to him. This causes you to hitch your breath. “Pete you gotta stop doing that.” You joke.

Peter doesn’t look up from the paper. “Stop doing what?”

You huff and glance away before looking back at him. “God are you purposely annoying or just clueless?”

Peter finally looks at you, a slight smile on his face, “I just need you close to me…to-to, uh, to explain this concept. Obviously.”

“Yeah,” You blow a raspberry. “Obviously.”

~

You groan, letting your head fall into your hands on top of the table, “I’m resigned to the fact that I might have to drop out of Physics.”

“No, don't! Physics is super fun!” Peter says with a little bit too much enthusiasm.

You peek one eye through your fingers, “Pete, I don’t think we’re working on the same frequency.” 

“Ok, well I have a totally funny Physics joke for you,” Peter readies himself, “What did the male magnet say to the female magnet? Seeing you from the back, I thought you were repulsive. But seeing you from the front, I find you rather attractive.”

You pick your head up and lightly punch Peter in the arm, “You’re lucky you’re cute, because I’m already–Ah, spider!”

A modest size brown spider crawls out of reach from your hand on the table. You reflexively go to swat at it but Peter catches your hand before you could do so. You glance at Peter’s hand on yours rather than at him. He quickly lets go of your hand before he goes and picks up the spider ever so gently.

You follow him as he walks over to the window, the rain slowing down. He cracks open the window, urging the bug outside. You lean against the other side of the window, arms crossed over your chest, you can’t help it when a dry laugh escapes your mouth, “Sorry, but are you secretly some kind of spider-whisper.”

“Hmm,” Peter closes the window, “Maybe. Just looking out for the little guy I suppose.”

You can’t help but smile, truly genuine this time. You reach out and take one of Peter’s hands. “Come on, I think we’ve earned a break.”

You pull Peter by the hand, taking a second to close his laptop, and throwing your jacket over everything on the table. You turn around, switching what hand is holding on to Peter’s. You continue down one path weaving up and down other bookshelves, passing empty tables, you make a sudden turn down an aisle letting go of Peter’s hand. You trail your fingers over the spines of the books, as Peter follows behind you, hands in his pocket. When you make it to the end of the aisle, you stand in front of a window, the rainstorm continuing on. “I actually find rainstorms to be rather romantic.” You say.

“The Shelly kind or the Valentine kind?” Peter says, leaning against the bookshelf.

“Both.” You peek back, a smirk playing on your lips. You walk over to Peter, standing with just enough space for someone to squeeze through.

“Not so romantic when you’re caught up in it.” Peter glances at the window, then at you. “I’ve been caught…too many times.”

“So have I,” You step a little closer, testing the waters, Peter doesn’t react. “But you have to admit there’s something, I don’t know, intimate, about being sheltered in place, with just one other person. Like under an umbrella, or the awning of some corner store bodega–”

“Or in-between bookshelves at your college’s library?” Peter’s hand comes up to gently grasp your hand, your fingers slowly interlocking with one another. He pulls you in close, in between his legs. You place your other hand on his chest to prevent yourself from falling. “I might not be an English major but I think I can read between the lines.”

“And if I wasn’t so tired, I would totally come up with a Physics joke.” You response, your face flush red. 

He brings his other hand to your face, his palm resting on your cheek, his fingers slowly disappearing into the nape of your hair. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Hmm, maybe…let me ask you one question?” You say.

“Shoot.”

“Can I kiss you first?”

Peter smiles, then nods. You bring the hand that was on his chest upwards, sliding up his neck, until your own hand is entangled in his hair. You close your eyes and lean forward, pressing your lips ever so gently to his. He pauses for a moment before kissing you back, slowly, taking his time. His lips felt soft against your own, warm and comforting, even if you could still taste the tomatoes from earlier. You can’t help but giggle at the thought.

“What is it?” Peter says between kisses.

You move away just a little, you quickly peck him on the lips, once, twice–”It doesn’t really matter.”

Peter deepens the kiss, bringing both hands to hold your face, his thumbs gently caressing the skin beneath them. You loop both your arms around his neck, letting your body fall into his, your chest pressing against his. His tongue enters your mouth and it falls in rhythm with yours, dancing an unseen dance. 

The two of you stop for a moment, foreheads resting on one another. “You know I’m still dropping Physics right?” You say through closed eyes and heavy breathing.

“Then I’ll keep kissing you until you change your mind.” Peter answers.

He holds you in his arms as he stands up fully, keeping his grip on you tight as he kisses you again. One of his hands drifts to your bottom, an open hand just resting on top of your clothing.

“Oh Parker,” You whisper. “Not as innocent as you look.”

“You have no idea…” 

He buries his head into your neck, placing kisses up and down that make your eyes roll back. “We should…we should definitely continue this study session back at my dorm…since you know… the library closes soon.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” Peter says as he now moves on to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. 

You break away from him, pushing him back ever so lightly, taking his hand in yours. You lead him down the aisle, half-walking, half running. 

“Come on, I still have a Physics test to pass”

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

Hey there, thanks for reading! Hope you liked it. If you like this consider checking out my other fluff-y story Potential Customer . Goodbye Void!

masterlist

[rorywritesjunk]

We'll cry later or cry now, but baby, Heartbreak feels so good

Buggy messes up, there's a fight, and he realizes how much you mean to him.

Rating: PG-13ish. Swearing. Warning: A couple fight, angry crying, damage to personal property (kind of not really unintentional). Is mentioning Shanks a warning? I'm gonna say it is. Buggy has Big Feelings and Regrets. A/N: Drama and some angst. Upset Buggy, upset reader. Everyone's upset. I needed to do some angst to balance out some of the other stuff. I have another story later to post as well. Also, at this point the reader in this fic is apparently just the same as the makeup stories and Pampering Buggy. Unintentional at first but it just... happened. Oops. Title comes from "Heartbreak Feels So Good" by Fall Out Boy.

Your screaming was heard throughout the entire Big Top. 

Buggy was convinced you were being murdered, so he stopped what he was doing and hurried to see what was going on. He could hear your screams coming from the kitchen and they weren’t letting up, so when he rushed in, he frantically looked to see what was causing you to make that much noise.

You were standing at the counter, gripping your hair as you stared down at it. He approached cautiously, hand moving ahead of him to touch your shoulder, letting you know he was there.

“Babe?”

You jumped and smacked his hand away, turning to glare at him; the intensity caused him to stop in his tracks. He finally saw what you were so focused on. Your good knives were laid out on the table, the blades bent with chips and cracks along them. One of them even had a broken handle. Next to the damaged knives was your favorite cutting board. He could see the knife marks in it, as though someone had used it as target practice.

Oh, shit.

“Who did this?!” You demanded as you pointed at your damaged tools. “Why?!”

“I can explain.” He held his hands up, hoping maybe you’d calm down, but instead it seemed to make you angrier. 

“Those were my things, Buggy!” You exclaimed, fists clenched as your eyes began to well up with tears. “Wh-Why does it look like someone used them for target practice?! They’re ruined!”

“Someone asked to use some knives for practice… and I said grab some from the kitchen.” Buggy said; your eyes went wide and it was dawning on him how stupid that suggestion now was. “Now, I didn’t specify which knives…”

“Clearly!” 

“But they’re just knives, babe.” He said with a shrug. “I mean, you can still use them, right?”

Your response to that was crying. The tears were coming now and you couldn’t help it. How could he be that stupid? Those were yours. You brought them onboard when you joined the crew. You even told the crew not to touch them, that they were yours for food prep and nothing else. They weren’t meant to be thrown around! 

Buggy didn’t really expect you to start crying. 

“Babe, babe, come on.” He took a step towards you, reaching out to pull you into a hug, but you pulled away, picking up the knife that had the worst damage to it: a broken tip, bent, chips in the blade. You pointed it at him.

“I can’t prepare meals with this, Buggy!” You wailed. “You wrecked my knives!”

He stared at you in shock. He didn’t like being accused like that. 

“I didn’t touch them!” He shot back. “How was I going to know they’d be used?! Maybe you should have hidden them better!” He crossed his arms and snorted. “They’re just knives. Stop crying over them, it’s not like you can’t use them. Stop being stupid!”

Oh, he regretted that when he saw the crushed look in your eyes, but was he going to say anything? Was he going to apologize? Of course not. 

“Fine.” You rubbed your nose and sniffled, taking a deep breath. “Fine! I hope you have an appetite for spiced boiled water, because without good knives, I can’t do much else!” 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” Buggy rolled his eyes. You glared at him as you opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Fresh tears started rolling down your cheeks instead as you shoved past him, leaving him alone in the kitchen. 

~

The two of you really didn’t fight that much. Arguments happened from time to time, disagreements, typical couple things, but this type of fight where one of the sides fucked up and wouldn’t admit it, well, it was ugly. The crew even noticed that you hadn’t spoken to Buggy for a few hours. He tried to get you to acknowledge him, asking you your thoughts on how the performers were doing, but you ignored him as you helped one of the performer’s with her costume, or made sure another’s hair was done right. 

Buggy tried to ask you how his makeup was looking, tried to see if you’d help him with it, but you turned your back on him and walked off. 

Dinner that night was boiled water with random spices thrown in and you served Buggy the ‘dinner’ in the largest bowl you had.

And you did return to your shared room with him but you wouldn’t talk to him. You bathed without inviting him in the tub, you dressed with your back to him, and you crawled into your side of the bed without giving him a goodnight kiss. When he got into bed and tried to roll over to cuddle with you, he pulled back once he felt how you stiffened at his touch and curled up away from him. He went back to his side and listened to your crying.

When he woke up the next morning, your side of the bed was empty, no warmth left behind. You must have been awake for hours at that point. He rubbed his face, wondering if maybe he needed to apologize. He really should have, it was his fault, but he couldn’t admit that. He was stupid, he knew that. He was still trying to figure out how to be in a relationship. With a sigh, he got out of bed and dressed before heading to the kitchen to look for you.

He was surprised to find an empty kitchen. He winced when he saw the damaged knives and cutting board still in the same place as yesterday, a reminder of how he fucked up. Why didn’t he just apologize instead of saying you were stupid and being dramatic? He picked up one of the knives, looking it over. It didn’t look like it could easily be repaired. Maybe he needed to get you a new set to make up for it.

“Captain?” 

He turned to see one of the performers standing in the doorway. He glared at him and they recoiled just a bit. “What?!”

“Uh, just… have you seen the cook? She was going to help me with my hair, and…”

“What?! What do you mean you haven’t seen her?!” He snapped. “Where the fuck did she go?”

“I-I don’t know, that’s… why I’m asking…” 

Buggy threw the knife in his direction; it almost hit him, instead hitting the frame of the door and clattering to the ground. The performer hurried off, not wanting to become Buggy’s own target, leaving his captain alone. You weren’t there. You had been gone for hours. They had been docked for two days at a port. 

He swallowed heavily as he considered that maybe, just maybe, you had enough and decided to leave.

No, no, no, it wasn’t that bad of a fight, right? You loved him. You told him all the time. You wouldn’t leave him over something silly like this, but he remembered how he reacted to your words, how instead of saying sorry he made it seem like it was your fault. He fucked up, not you. 

Could he blame you for leaving? You did so much for him and he was just there. You took care of him, you made sure he was fed, that his clothes were mended, that his makeup was how he wanted it. You did all of that for him, and all he could do was fuck up and blame you for his own stupidity.

He swore loudly as he stomped out of the kitchen to go start his day. Maybe stringing a freak up by their ankles would make him feel better.

~

You weren’t home by dinner and by then he knew you left for good. He overheard several performers mentioning how they saw you leave with a bag that morning, and that they missed their chance to talk to you. Buggy couldn’t believe you’d leave without saying goodbye to him, but he figured that’s what he deserved after how he treated you the night before. Hell, he never deserved you in the end. How did you put up with him for as long as you did when he was just a pain in your ass? You deserved so much better than him, someone who would treat you the way you deserved to be treated, with treasures, love, everything you wanted. 

Yea, he loved you, and he treasured you, but he knew he didn’t ever tell you enough, if at all.

He couldn’t help but imagine someone like Shanks meeting you and sweeping you off your feet. Of course it would be Shanks who you would meet by chance, fall in love immediately, and leave Buggy behind. The thought of it frustrated Buggy. He should have appreciated you more.

He returned to what was now his room, now that you were gone from his life. He went to your side of the bed and stared down at it, knowing that the last time you slept in his bed, you cried yourself to sleep because of him. He never wanted that, and he wished he apologized last night instead of being stubborn about it. He grabbed your pillow and laid down on the bed, hugging it close to his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. 

He wasn’t going to cry but he definitely wanted to. Instead he held your pillow over his face, taking a deep breath, hoping it still smelled like you. If he stayed like that, maybe he would never forget you. The feeling of your skin, your smell, the sound of your voice.

It was almost like you were still there when he thought he heard you say his name but he was imagining things. You left because he didn't treat you well or appreciate you enough. You were the one always making him feel better when he had a bad day, you always said I love you first, and if he ever did, it was always followed by some bawdy comment. You always initiated those little acts of love and he just… was there. 

You’d make his favorite meals for him and he’d offer to wash the dishes, but there were countless times he’d wake up for a midnight snack and find you in the kitchen, cleaning up after he forgot to do so.

You’d tell him how much you loved him, and he’d make a stupid joke before even saying it back, because he didn’t know how else to respond.

And he was pretty sure he was already going crazy without you there because he swore he heard you say his name again and something hit the pillow. He pulled it down off his face and sat up, eyes widening when he saw you standing at the foot of the bed.

“What are you doing to my pillow?” You asked. 

“You came back.” Was his response. 

“What?” You looked confused. “Yea? We’re at a port, we needed some kitchen supplies.” He winced slightly and you glared at him. “I took one of my knives to see if they could get fixed but as I suspected, they are beyond repair.”

"Babe-"

"I can't believe you let someone use my things like that, Buggy!" You exclaimed as you sat at the foot of the bed to remove your shoes. "I asked one thing when I came onboard and was for the crew to respect that the kitchen was my space, that if they needed something to ask me! And then you went and let someone go in there and use my things! Those were expensive knives, I paid good money for them, and I can't go and-"

"'Msorry." He spoke so quietly you almost didn’t hear him.

"Buy replace- what?" You turned to look at him. He wasn't looking at you, instead he was sitting up now on the bed, legs hanging over the side as he stared down at his feet. You got up from your seat and walked over to him, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. "Look at me, Buggy." He winced at your tone but did as you asked. "Repeat what you just said but I want you to look me in the eyes when you do."

He hesitated, it was difficult, but he did as you asked, slowly looking up at you, locking eyes with you, almost muttering again under your glare but he managed to get the words out.

"I'm sorry." He said, trying not to let his voice waver. "I'm sorry for ruining your… things. And for how I spoke to you. And for not apologizing." He looked back down at his feet and slumped forward, resting his head in his hands. "I just don't want you to leave me."

You inhaled sharply, did he really think you left him without telling him? This was starting to give you a headache.

"First off, thank you for apologizing." You said as you stepped closer to him, putting your hand on his head. He took that as an invite to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to him as he pressed his face against your stomach. You sighed. "And second, Buggy, if I was ending things with you I would tell you. I was gone because like I said, we needed some supplies, and I needed a break from here for a while.”

"'msorry." His voice was muffled against your shirt as he tightened his hold on you. "I can't lose you to someone else."

"Buggy, you're not going to." You told him as you reached down to move his head away from you, just enough for you to cup his cheeks and you could look into his eyes. "But Buggy, all I want now is another apology for how you spoke to me, and I want a new, nicer set of knives and cutting board that is off limits to everyone, understand? Because if I catch anyone else so much as touching them then I'll cut their hands off with those nice sharp knives and use their blood to oil the board. Do you understand?"

Buggy could only nod, leaning into your touch as his hands came up to cover your own. "I'm sorry for… how I spoke to you, you're not stupid or dramatic… that's all me, I'm sorry. I'll get you new things, I promise."

"Thank you." You stroked his cheeks gently before pulling back. "Now, I am damn exhausted from all of this and am taking a bath." 

He pulled you back to him before you could get too far away from him. He wanted to be sure you were real, that this wasn’t his imagination, that you were really there. He wrapped his arms around your waist once more, resting his head against your stomach as you put your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them slowly, trying to get him to relax. You were still hurt from the night before, especially how he spoke to you, but it made you feel a little better to see how upset he was, that he did regret his actions. 

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away from him and went to get undressed. You heard Buggy get up behind you, and you wanted to tell him that you were taking a bath by yourself, but when you turned around you were surprised to see him getting the tub ready for you. 

“Thanks?” You were a little confused by the gesture, but you weren’t going to question it. 

“I… love you.” He said as he checked the temperature of the water, making sure it wasn’t too hot for you. “And thank you for everything you do for me.”

You smiled a bit and went over to him, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Buggy.”